And in other news, today was spent doing odd jobs about the Ranch whilst counting heads. The goats are kidding, which is good. On the other hand, the results are less spectacular than they could be, and we suspect we are seeing another sequelae of the Month of Storms. Goats gestate for right about five months, and the middle month of this kidding is the Month of Storms. Just as with homo sapien, fetus' of pregnant goats are affected by high anxiety levels experienced by their dams.
So, damn, not all of our kids are surviving. We've got eight still bouncing around fairly happily, and one is on the binnicle list with a swollen knee joint. This one may actually survive becuase of that injury, since now RuthieMom is in gear, and supplemental feedings (which biological mom was providing, however, the twin thrived better? more? hmm, losing the grammer here) are in effect while the youngster enjoys a slightly warmer shelter and poultices on the swollen joint.
We count a maximum of 18 kids this kidding. Three we are reasonably certain are lost to predation, two to coyote and one probably to an owl. These losses are unpleasant, but much more acceptible than losses to "neighbor" dog uncontrolled. Not any of those this time around, though. The remainder, sadly, are all kids we found in the morning, simply did not survive through the night (cool, not yet truly cold for what North Central Florida can be).
The eight bouncing around are all apparently quite strong, as was the ninth before that leg was twisted somehow. And the Border Collie Bros are being very conciencious in their nightly duties out in the paddocks (one of the reasons we've only lost two to coyote, the Boys are rather possessive). However, even a Border Collie Brother is somewhat helpless to the swoop of an owl.
Just now, it's time for dinner. Pot roast, and we knew this bovine, too. Yum!