Anonymous Poster
Epic Contributor
- Joined
- Sep 27, 2005
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I went out yesterday morning to feed, and found one of the six new two day old kids missing. It was yingyang. I spent three hours tromping back and forth across the pasture searching for this baby goat. Peering into pens, gazing suspiciously at the pigs, giving downright dirty looks to the dogs. I was devastated, but no more so than the mother. She spent the entire day roaming about, calling.
My husband got home around seven, and we made another circuit, hunting, peering, calling. I'm prodding him along, 'c'mon' I say 'maybe there's hope'. He was not optimistic.
I finally reached the sad conclusion this morning, that she had been taken by a predator. As I got dressed to go outside, I said my goodbyes, and got on with it. Went on out to feed, reluctant to face the mother who was still calling to her little one. Heartbreaking, that calling and calling with no response.
I gathered up the goat's share of thrift store bread and turned to head off to the fenceline to throw it over. As is my habit, I called out 'c'mon goats!' This alerts them to the fact that I am on my way and they always respond with a chorus of bleats.
My hearing is not that great, so when I thought I heard a faint 'response' bleat coming from inside the shed, I didn't get excited. I froze, cocking my head from side to side, trying to figure out if what I heard was actually behind me or in front of me.
The second time I heard it I knew I had found my missing baby. I scattered loaves of bread to the four winds and raced inside and plucked her out from under a work table, scaring her to death in the process. My only thoughts were toward getting her back with her forlorn mother.
I raced across the yard holding this baby goat up to the heavens like kunta kintay, (I think) and exclaiming 'Donkey! I found your baby!' over and over like a mantra.
If she got excited, she didn't show it, as a goats facial expression rarely changes. There were a few tense moments when I thought she wasn't going to accept her back as she'd been gone about thirty six hours, but yingyang settled it once and for all when she grabbed a nipple and began to make up for lost time.
Donkey let out a little sigh and a contented bleat and as I handed her her bread, she nuzzled my hand.
'I'm sorry girl, I wish I could have found her sooner'.
I left the two to get reaquainted and went on to feed the others. Over the course of the day I have returned to the window over and over just to look, and I see the two babies in stark contrasting black against the deep green of the grass and I sigh. All is right again. For the moment.
My husband got home around seven, and we made another circuit, hunting, peering, calling. I'm prodding him along, 'c'mon' I say 'maybe there's hope'. He was not optimistic.
I finally reached the sad conclusion this morning, that she had been taken by a predator. As I got dressed to go outside, I said my goodbyes, and got on with it. Went on out to feed, reluctant to face the mother who was still calling to her little one. Heartbreaking, that calling and calling with no response.
I gathered up the goat's share of thrift store bread and turned to head off to the fenceline to throw it over. As is my habit, I called out 'c'mon goats!' This alerts them to the fact that I am on my way and they always respond with a chorus of bleats.
My hearing is not that great, so when I thought I heard a faint 'response' bleat coming from inside the shed, I didn't get excited. I froze, cocking my head from side to side, trying to figure out if what I heard was actually behind me or in front of me.
The second time I heard it I knew I had found my missing baby. I scattered loaves of bread to the four winds and raced inside and plucked her out from under a work table, scaring her to death in the process. My only thoughts were toward getting her back with her forlorn mother.
I raced across the yard holding this baby goat up to the heavens like kunta kintay, (I think) and exclaiming 'Donkey! I found your baby!' over and over like a mantra.
If she got excited, she didn't show it, as a goats facial expression rarely changes. There were a few tense moments when I thought she wasn't going to accept her back as she'd been gone about thirty six hours, but yingyang settled it once and for all when she grabbed a nipple and began to make up for lost time.
Donkey let out a little sigh and a contented bleat and as I handed her her bread, she nuzzled my hand.
'I'm sorry girl, I wish I could have found her sooner'.
I left the two to get reaquainted and went on to feed the others. Over the course of the day I have returned to the window over and over just to look, and I see the two babies in stark contrasting black against the deep green of the grass and I sigh. All is right again. For the moment.
