And I got goats. We got up early this morning and I was going to make coffee, but we were out of sugar. So, I go into town and half way there I get a call.
Backtrack.... Three goats survived the great mountain lion devour and I gave those three goats to a friend of ours six or seven months ago. He enjoyed them and bred them (that came out wrong) and last night and this morning two of the three goats kidded. One of them had a single and the other had triplets. One of the triplets died. One was not doing well and going down fast. The other triplet was ok, but not great.
So, I get a call. "Come get the goats. I'm too old for this."
I have not had coffee yet. But, he sounded slightly desperate. So I bypass the grocery store (and post office and bank which I also had to stop at) and head straight there. By now, it's 8:30am and I am seeing my morning coffee getting further and further away.
I get there and I look around and do a quick glance over view synopsis of what is happening, track down the sick babies, and figure out what is happening. We place the down kid on a heating pad, get warm water with a bit of honey in him, and try to get him to perk up enough to be able to survive being moved. I get the other goat on the teat. Two hours later, I am loading the goats in the van and putting the downed baby in a sling. Yes, I am using a baby sling on a goat. Maya Wraps are not just for humans anymore.
Driving down the road, goats in the back of a van, wondering what happened to my morning, and when I would get coffee, dreading what was to come next (no tarp on the floor of the van) I hear the unmistakable sound of urine hitting the carpeted floor of the van.
So with a van full of goats, a baby goat in a sling, and errands still needed to be run, I hit the bank. I go in, baby goat in the sling and all, and cash a check. They take pity on me and hand me a cup of coffee. I head next door and get the mail. Then comes the grocery store. The one item I came into town for to begin with.
Granted, this is a grocery store so I do understand.
I walk in with the baby goat in the sling, still needing the body heat and too weak to be in the back of the van with the other goats where he'll get stepped on and this is the point where said baby goat decides to perk up and yell out "baaaaaa!"
With the attention on me thanks to Little Mister Noise Maker, I quickly explain the situation. One lady had said that she used to raise bottle goats. Her uncle was a goat farmer and when there was a reject, he would give the goat to her mother and they would bottle raise it. My ear perk up and I give her my number.
I go pick up the sugar and on my way run into the owner. She was not happy. Understandable since there was an inspector there. I quickly grab what I need and head out.
I ended up back at the grocery store two more times today. Once after my La Leche League meeting and again after I got a phone call from the lady who grew up raising bottle goats. I gave her the one that I was carrying around in the sling.
So, what started out as trying to get some sugar so I could have coffee, ended with us getting our old goats back and then some.