Friday, January 23, 2009
The trouble with goats
This is why I don't like everyone to leave here at the same time. As I mentioned in an earlier post, the five of us create school schedules that allow at least one person to be here at all times. Yesterday, when Margaret was leaving, she came back to the house and yelled that one of the goats was screaming. "Sounds like it's got its head stuck in a fence or something."
Jonathan went out and discovered Lil dripping wet next to the water trough. He took her into the barn office, and Katherine dried her with a towel and a blow dryer and let her lay down in a chair in front of the heater until she warmed up, which took a couple hours. No doubt if no one were home, she would have gotten hypothermia and died.
And it's not just goats. We're responsible for all the animals. Last week, another blogger said she was glad she was home for lambing last summer because a couple of lambs would not have made it if she weren't there. Luckily, we have been here to rescue goats that got their heads caught in a fence or fell into a water trough. (Lil wasn't the first.) We were here when a ram lamb got his head stuck in a fence, but we didn't get to him quickly enough, and he broke off a horn -- that is as bloody as it sounds. We've also been here when a neighbor or a stranger knocked on the door and asked, "Are those your ________ down the road?" (Fill in blank with sheep, goats, pigs, horses, or turkeys.) Whenever these things happen, I always wonder what would have happened if we weren't home. I don't want to find out.