There are many things I did not expect to happen in my life. For example, I never expected to live in the South; I never thought I would actually have that wonderful day when I held my first published book in my hand. And I sure as hell never pictured me restraining a mother goat while my wife clamped suction cups & hoses to her, milking her for all she is worth for colostrum/milk.
That is right, dear Reader, we had a goat give birth yesterday. One male; one female. It’s terrible, we gave them names, bottle fed them, & they spent the night in our home.
(They were not nursing on their Mama, it was cold last night… do the math. They stayed inside with us.)
It was an odd thing: two of the dogs took to the little, cute baby goats. Our old Lab, Hersh-Hersh, acted more like a concerned Mama than the actual Mama, trying to get to them, licking & whining over them. Bucky, the beagle, also acted as a bodyguard of sorts, watching over the babies as they slept on a large, padded dog bed.
It was an amazing thing to see. All of the animals, all the species, including my wife, fawned over the little babies… knowing they were babies. And I’m no exception. Yes, yes. I will admit the little guys pulled at my heartstrings.
They are just too damn cute! As well as hopeless. They needed some help. I’m a little guilty of being protective. I might as well admit it was MY idea to bring them into the house last night.
And that is the end of the story. Something short, true & sweet.