Yesterday I went to do morning chores and found a touching scene in our main pen. There was TouchOFrost our homebred eleven year old doe, who had died during the night, and laying tail to tail with her was Evensong, a three year old home bred starting her delivery pushes.
We moved Evensong to a clean kidding pen, and then turned to Frost to get her taken care of. She had been suffering from a long term respiratory condition, and regardless of how we treated her, she finally succumbed. We knew her time was coming, but during the years we've learned to let goats go in their own time. Hurrying them only serves us, unless they are in pain. A goat with a will to live will do just that.
Evensong went on to deliver four little kids, two boys and two girls. The first little boy was weak to begin with, less than half the size of his siblings. He was nearly lifeless when he was born, but he tried. His bigger siblings had taken so much of the nutrients that he was delayed in his maturing. He was born without teeth, and though we did get him to drink colostrum from a bottle, and gave him some Selenium orally, he did not make it.
But such is the life of a farm. Life is fluid, and the love of Frost passes on to the new kids, the traditions of mothering passes to Evensong, and Frost's energy passes to the beautiful land we live on. It's not easy on us, but watching it happen all in one day reinforces how little we can do about it, but how important it is that we make every day count for us, for the animals and for the planet, for our time with them is way too short. Live on TouchOFrost in Evensong's girls, who are withholding their names for awhile until I get to know them better. For little boy, come back and visit us when you're ready. You were a fighter, but the timing wasn't right for you this time. Thank you, Frost and Evensong, We've been blessed to know you both.