Ok here is what happened one week ago today during the baby blizzard.
Around 7 in the morning Peaches begins moaning and groaning and laying down. In between practice pushes she gets up and gazes into the distance or eats the new fresh straw in her stall. Wronny has her breakfast as usual. Lucy nibbles at some hay.
Around 11 Peaches gets more serious. She starts making nests in the straw and babbletalking to her babies. Meanwhile, Lucy gets all glassy-eyed and lays down and then gives a nervous yelp like when you step on the dog’s foot. Wronny has a couple of cookies and scratches her head against the rough part of the stall door.
At noon Peaches accelerates her moaning, groaning, standing, pawing, lying. The farmer goes in and tries to check if there is anything on the way out but Peaches insists on cleaning the farmer and turns the wrong end around every time the farmer tries to check the birth canal. After a few minutes the farmer gives up.
Wronny chews her cud and appears to be thinking about the economic stimulus package. She is skeptical, naturally, but willing to give it a chance. Lucy starts getting up and down. Peaches stops all labor and takes a nap.
At 12:15 Wronny makes a nest, lies down, pushes expertly a couple of times, and shoots out a matched set of perfect little black triplets.
At 12:30 the farmer calls the nice neighbor who knows everything about goats and asks if the neighbor would mind holding Peaches’ head so that a proper examination can be performed. The neighbor kindly agrees.
At 1:30 with the assistance of the neighbor the farmer pokes around Peaches’ ladyparts and discovers that there is nothing on the way out. The neighbor reassures the farmer that Peaches looks fine and is just being a slowpoke. The farmer milks a few squirts of milk out to speed things up.
At 3:30 Lucy starts to push quite seriously, her legs stretched out.
At 3:31 Peaches starts to push quite seriously.
At 3:45 a bubble finally emerges from Peaches. The farmer pops it and feels a foot. Lucy gives a bloodcurdling scream. The farmer hustles over and Lucy has got two tiny feet poking out. The farmer reaches in and sure enough there is a nose coming right behind. Lucy gives another bloodcurdling scream. Peaches gives a bloodcurdling scream. The farmer hustles over and now can feel a nose and a foot but the second leg is back.
“Uh oh,” says the farmer and fishes around to try to get the other foot but can’t get around the big head. Lucy gives a bloodcurdling scream.
“I’ll be right back, Peaches,” says the farmer, and hustles over to help pull out Lucy’s first baby, a strapping buckling. Lucy lays stretched out, completely spent and flat as a pancake, but gobbles a cookie when the farmer puts it in her mouth.
The farmer hustles over to Peaches’ stall where a fat little white and black buckling is enjoying some warm milk. “Excellent,” says the farmer.
Lucy gives a bloodcurdling scream and when the farmer gets back to her stall a second kid, this one a little doeling, is laying in the straw. Oddly, Lucy is still lying flat as a pancake with her legs like boards. In fact, she looks paralyzed. “That’s odd,” says the farmer. When the farmer stuffs another cookie in her mouth, she gobbles it without moving anything but her mouth.
Peaches gives a not that bloodcurdling scream, more of a half-hearted bellow. A second little black and white buckling, this one not quite as fat, is enjoying some warm milk. The farmer hustles back to Lucy’s stall, where she is still lying flat, stiff, and completely motionless. The farmer is not in the mood.
“Snap out of it, Lucy,” says the farmer. Lucy shakes her head like a boxer who has had his bell rung. She sits up.
“Thank you,” says the farmer.
The End.
Diary of a Dairy Goat. This blog is the diary of one goat, Baby Belle, a Nigerian Dwarf who lives on a small dairy farm in Western Washington.