Life is fragile

If you live on a farm you quickly learn how fragile life can be. At 3:30 this afternoon, Cascabel was up and drinking from her mother. I went back out to feed a little after 5 and found that she had just died. I still had her in the box, since I did not want her mother stepping on her. The swelling had gone down, so I was sure that she was going to make it. It was a shock to find her gone. A year ago, I would have cried buckets over her, but I guess I have learned that you cannot save them all. The best you can do is try all the standard treatments and hope for the best. If the veterinarians were more familiar with goats, less expensive, and not so far away, I might have taken her in to be checked. As it is, with so many others to care for and a poor prognosis, since she was less than a week old, waiting it out was the best thing to do.

Now I have to hope the mom will mourn quietly, since it depresses me horribly to listen to them cry when something goes wrong.

Hope to see some of you here for the shearing in the morning. And I sure hope Penny is feeling better!