Thumbelina's Patience

Early this morning I let the boys out to browse for a few hours, then returned in the late morning to mix it up. Joshua was hanging close to Bully when I returned, and Leo and Whiskey were grazing on the far side of the round pen by Heidi. I got FiFi Mae to come out and reunited her with Joshua in the cool of the barn, then left them to put the boys back in with the geese. Food’s a great motivator; they came a-running.

Joshua and FiFi Mae appeared to enjoy being together. Since they’re both still too young to breed, I decided to let Joshua stay with the does while they’re out today. He’ll have to go back in with the billys this evening. Put in with the does, Joshua was subjected to a bit of hazing, but since they were out and about they put little effort into driving him off. He’s nimble and prances out of the way quickly, then moves on with his day undeterred.

Today I am sure that Thumbelina will be giving birth. She was slow to get up and come out this morning, and then she never wandered more than a few yards away from the pasture entrance. I went down by the house and harvested enough new grass to fill the bottom third of a very large planter, but she had no interest whatsoever in fresh grass. After the herd trotted off to go foraging in the woods, Thumbelina and Raymond stayed back with me.

Raymond started off with the herd but got separated somewhere around the edge of Lucy’s fence, then made his way back to the barn area. Today is the first day he fought against my attentions—when I tried to hold him still long enough to locate and separate a tick from the soft hair on his neck. Ultimately I let him go with the tick still intact. I have to find the dust applicator I purchased with the fossil shell flour, then dust the animals. The ticks are out in force (I pulled them from three animals this morning) and only the first guinea hen has come out from the place where they’ll roost. One hen has no chance against all the bugs we have here; at least I know she’ll eat very well.

I spent some time grooming Lucy, and some time working on the round pen, all the while keeping tabs on Thumbelina. The poor girl: she lies down for a time with her head and neck erect and her belly spread out around her, then she stands in place. This started in the sun, but after an hour or two she moved into the shade of the Trail Wagon. She stands, leaning her flanks or tail against the UTV, and stares inward. It’s odd. I have seen goats stare off into space, but she really appears to be introspective.

After a couple of hours the herd came trotting back with Heidi on their heels. She’d brought them in for a cool drink and a chance to rest in the shade. Even the horned girls were breathing quickly. Recently I learned that the horns serve as temperature regulators and that horned goats have less trouble with extreme temperatures than do polled or disbudded goats. (I wonder where poor Bully falls on the continuum?) Anyway, when Thumbelina had her best buds, Cocoa and Jennifer, by her side for a few minutes I imagined that she was more present, more aware of the world beyond her huge little body. But the girls wandered off within a few minutes, leaving Thumbelina alone again with her changing body.

Stay tuned.