Lisa has Energy; Thumbelina has Scours

Loyal tastes his Auntie Jenn's ear.

When we got home this evening the hour was late. Frost covered all the metal surfaces, making feed bins and fence gates chilly to the touch and slippery in the hand. The dogs had been fed, for which I was grateful; our farm sitter had been engaged through the morning only, but that nice fella from Barns & More construction was on site in the afternoon and promised to dole out hay to the critters who would be interested in it. Thanks, Jeff; you're the best.

Still, I wanted to check the maternity stall. Did the keets have water and food? (Water yes, food no.) Did the kids have access to the heat lamp I'd set up for them? No because as she'd been just before we left, Thumbelina was tucked directly beneath the bulb's heat. Odd. I had moved yesterday evening and set up a blockade, but that had necessarily been removed to open the crate to the keets. So go the days on the farm. After forcibly moving Thumbelina, I replaced the blockade.

Lisa's trying to climb onto Auntie Jenn's back, but she can't quite get up there--yet.

Then I fed the keets goat rations because the turkey starter I'd left in the barn was out, watered the nursing does who had completely emptied their bucket, parceled out a few flakes of hay into the stalls, and grained the nursing does. The littlest kids were sleepy, but Miss Lisa was bucking and bouncing about, playing as if it were noontime instead of nearly midnight. She was having a delightful romp. With Jennifer and Cocoa focused on food, Loyal was attentively tasting his auntie Jenn's coat and ears and horns. Lisa seemed more interested in climbing onto Auntie Jenn, although I did not see her actually succeed.

The maternity stall smelled rank. Someone had developed loose bowels just before we left, and the situation had not abated. The kids appeared clean. Cocoa and Jennifer were eating voraciously and also looked clean. Thumbelina was standing hunched over, nuzzling at the insulating wrap on the dog crate, trying to get into the heat lamp closest to her--inside the dog crate/keet brooder. I lifted her tail: bingo. What a mess.

Lisa, pulling most determinedly on my pant leg.

The poor gal has got the scours in force. I skittered down to the house, rustled up a bucket of warm water laced with goat electrolytes, filled a syringe with Vitamin B complex, replaced the defunct batteries in the ID-chip reader/Bio thermal scanner, grabbed disposable gloves and headed back up to the barn. Of course, I had not used the scanner in some months and was frustrated when I got the unit to turn on, but kept having it shut off without even searching for ID chips. Perhaps I'd left it out in the barn for too long? Whatever the problem, it was not working and I was not about to stick a thermometer anywhere near Thumbelina's filthy backside--so I gave up on the temperature and moved to treatment.

Although she had clearly lost a good deal of fluids over the day we had been gone, Thumbelina was not interested in the warm electrolyte mixture. (Goats usually are eager to accept warm water, so this was not a good sign.) She suffered the Vitamin B complex injection unhappily. I removed the needle from the syringe, rinsed it out, then filled it with the electrolyte mixture. Thumbelina was okay with that arrangement and began accepting the electrolytes in minute doses. When I stepped away to refresh the does' grain, she even snagged a mouthful before Jennifer bullied her away. She stood for a time mouthing the grain, possibly chewing it, then returned to worrying the side of the keet brooder in search of warmth.

Thumbelina gets dressed. Here she is in a thermal undershirt.

Before leaving the barn, then, I dressed the poor little goat in layers--as she had seen me do to the kids in the wintertime. At least the thermal top and pullover sweatshirt should help her feel warmer tonight. I snapped a picture of her beginning to doze off before leaving the animals for the night.

After I got back to the house, I reviewed the instructions for operating the chip-reader and discovered that the unit is working fine; 'twas the operator who'd been confused. Still, I wasn't about to trek back up to the barn again. After all, I may have to undress poor Thumbelina to read her chip. I'll let her rest tonight.

Thumbelina, dressed for winter & down in the dumps.

Please, God, let the little goat get some rest tonight and help her to feel better come daybreak.