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Nigerian Dwarf kid Kendall, bundled into the vet supply basket indoors.
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Yesterday evening I got up to the barn later than usual. Most of the animals had settled in for the night, but the maternity suite was still rocking: those kids sure are feisty. When I entered the maternity stall, I noticed that Kendall was flat out on her side beneath the heat lamp, not moving. She was breathing only shallowly. Her head was turned back in a reverse "C" posture such that her nose pointed over her spine towards her tail; the posture is not uncommon in dying ruminants, but I was not ready to accept the loss of this doeling.
I don't know if I should take the blame for this one, but here's what I'm thinking. In the morning, after I had wrestled Nigerian Dwarf doe Jennifer to allow Kendall to nurse, Kendall still did not appear full, so I took advantage of Thumbelina's having only one kid remaining and put Kendall on her. Well, Thumbelina was quite unhappy about the arrangement, and I'm thinking that she may just have taken out her wrath on the kid later in the day. I do not know if goats seek revenge, though. It could have been simply the combination of the cold weather, spotty diet, and Kendall's diminutive size that got the kid down.
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A sated Kendall rests in her box below the heat lamp after a tube-feeding.
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Whatever it was that got her down, Kendall revived when I picked her up--enough to squall for her momma as I carted her away from the barn. Inside, the time the tendency to throw her head back and point towards her tail gradually lessened. Her body was cold, though, and her hoofs downright chilly to the touch. I thought that continued contact with a human's bodily warmth would serve her well. An elastic band was procured to serve as a sanitary belt and a pad inserted beneath it at her tummy and her back, effectively diapering the kid for indoor living. (In recent years I've seen pet diapers in pet-supply catalogs and thought I should give it a try.)
She wouldn't suckle, so I inserted a tube to her stomach and forced two ounces of warm Marcie-milk into her body. This followed by a vitamin B complex injection and warmth were the extent of my medical interventions. If she made it to the morning, I would call the vet for further guidance.
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Kendall, sun-worshiping kid in a box.
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I cuddled her beside me through the night, and woke to a kid with mucous-filled eyes and nostrils. Dr. Whitlow prescribed a tiny dose of the antibiotic Naxcel which his office staff dispensed in seven diminutive syringes. By mid-afternoon she could stand and look about, but her little body wobbled quite a bit, and when she took any steps they were unsteady.
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Little Kendall looks out from her chosen corner.
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Late in the afternoon, when I was headed to the barn for evening feedings, I placed Kendall in a four-sided box to contain her, bundled her into a Newborn size hooded jacket (pinned to shrink it to her size), and left her beneath the heat lamp. We were quite pleased when, upon my return, we found she had climbed out of that box, escaped the direct heat, and curled herself into a shaded corner behind the toilet paper storage tube. We were pleased to see her taking some initiative, although she still required tube feeding and did not speak.
The next day or so will be critical. Come on, Kendall, hang in there. We're pulling for you!
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