Keeping Warm

The morning after the snow arrived, the air was clear, crisp, and bone-chillingly cold. This became readily apparent when my fingers began to hurt before I had even opened any gates outside. To unfasten the gate at the top of the orchard, I first had to break the ice coating free from the snap latch. This required me to remove a glove for improved dexterity and gave me a first glimpse of how the chill air would be treating me that afternoon. When my fingers began to ache before the gate was unlatched, I realized just how cold it was outside. After breaking the ice crust miring the gate bottom to the snowpack, the cattle panel (gate) moved freely and allowed me to pass.

Our young roo, Prince Eric, was fluffed as fluff could be--putting as much space between his body and the chill air as he could muster.

The spotted saddle horses, Stella and Millie, were hunched together in front of the chain-link kennel as if by crowding each other underneath the little overhang of roof they might spare themselves further chills. Both their backs and the tops of their sides were coated in ice, and icicles hung like fringe from their full winter coats. They were not eager to move when I asked, but moving them was necessary in order to reach the dairy goats in the front half of the kennel, and then the dog dishes in the back portion. When I glanced up the hill, I saw that Lucy and Janet were similarly crowded together in front of the barn--which was silly, I thought, for they could easily have gained shelter beneath the roof to the run-in portion of the barn in the rear. (Later when I reached them, their coats testified to their having sought shelter during the freezing rains. They were at the front of the barn to ensure that I noticed them when I doled out grain.)

Luther waited by the home pasture gate and Molly and the pups crowded along the driveway gate. All were eager to pile down to the kennel for their kibble. After they had piled into the back of the kennel and the dairy goats had sipped at the warm water I had brought out, I headed into the home pasture and up to the barn. The alpaca mamas and their crias along with Gwen and Mary all came out onto the ice-covered snow to greet me. Goldie Rose's topnot sported a shining ice coating and little Mary skittered alongside her mama--visibly shivering. (She had shucked her fleece coat the day before and been left overnight with just her own black-and-white fur coat and the heat lamp in the stall.)

Something looked odd in the next stall and I glanced over to find both Jennifer and Thumbelina crowded together under the heat lamp in that stall--and little Will was standing squarely on his Auntie Jen's back practically kissing up to the heat lamp. (I had to slide the camera through the stall grate to capture that!) After snapping the photo shown, I then saw Will literally nuzzling up to the heat lamp. Understanding just how chilly the goats perceived the air to be, I bustled about getting Mary suited up in a double-warm getup. The green fleece snugs close to her body and one of the boys' abandoned wool-lined jean jackets provides a secure outer layer. (Yes, the jean jackets had dried from their last use and I made sure that Gwen still recognized her gal beneath the smell of little buckling before leaving Mary in her snowsuit.) 

Before leaving the animals with their hay for the day, I did add layers to the stall divider for the Nigerian Dwarf does. Not only do I want the kids to keep warm, but now both Cocoa and Jennifer are there waiting to kid. That trio and the boys did not get out to romp in the fresh air today, although I am sure they would have loved the opportunity. This year I am erring on the side of caution and keeping the littlest kids sheltered from potential airborne predators. (Mary Packer is not much bigger, but she sticks close to Gwen and moves fast. Besides, to pick her up a hawk would have to take on Gwen and I doubt she would be very receptive to the idea of handing her kid over as a snack.)