Archive for March, 2017

Sometimes farming is a Shit Sandwich.

Several years ago I was a speech therapy assistant and the amazing speech therapist who I worked under told me that when writing summaries of a student’s progress to always format it in a shit sandwich, the good, the bad and then more good.  The past two weeks in farming has been a shit sandwich.

The good layer: We were finally able to acquire our 5 piglets this past weekend.  With the extreme cold temps and much snow we were put on hold for two weeks. Two weeks does not sound like much but when you have the kill date all set two weeks are pounds lost and pounds are dollars. On Saturday, K. Bob, Patty, Stu, Barbie Q and Madam Curry joined the farm family.

The SHIT layer: A week ago this Sunday I went out to do chores and Lilly did not get up promptly and meet me by the gate with her girlfriends.  I looked in and beside her was a little white, furry mound.  Shit, F&*%, damn.  I hurried and moved the rest of the herd into a different pen and went to assist Lilly.  Shit, F&*%, damn this was not supposed to happen for about 23 more days… but it was happening.  She kidded out a set of triplets.  Beautiful triplets.  Large triplets.  But very flaccid triplets. Yet they were alive.  They were quickly brought inside and Lilly was administered to.  We lost the biggest of the three in the first hour.  The smaller two were fed every two hours and we eventually lost them as well.  Lilly was not doing well, the vet was summoned, many tests were run, many shots were given to whole herd to bar against any possible contagious diseases, worm medication was given, tums for calcium and Gatorade for electrolytes were doled out in massive quantities.  Life in the barn was a worry, a stress, a holy shit week.

The second good layer: All tests came back negative for any contagious diseases. Although many dollars were spent and we will never know what caused Lilly to prematurely kid,  knowing that none of the other girls should have this unfortunate situation happen is worth it. Olive is due the 4th of April…let’s hope the shit sandwich has been served and it is time for dessert.

 

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Well, actually it is a Beau, Sam and Jerry but you will get the idea as this post goes on.

Last post I discussed the pros and cons of having a buck on the farm and that we had “agreed” not to have one and pay for stud service.  Well, my readers that was a big freaking screw up (pun intended).

Beau came (another pun, you may get used to these therefore I won’t point out any more) and serviced the does in November.  But due to circumstances beyond his or our control he missed his mark on two of the does. If you remember he slipped on the ice and damaged crucial parts to make another visit. So we hired Jerry to do the does.

Jerry left Sunday. Tilly seemed to truly enjoy Jerry’s company I believe that even when he was screwing around she took him seriously.  Stella….apparently needed a little more of a  Marvin Gaye style and less of the blubbering drunk  guy at last call style, because this morning,  Stella decided to announce to us, the neighbors and anyone else in a 5 mile radius that she was ready for love.  Who the hell was going to  was the hit a home run was the question…we had no batters, no hitters and unless she was going to immaculately conceive with no buck in sight we were screwed because she wasn’t going to be.

Enter in Salty Sam Elliot.  Sam is the buck of some good people who tried driveway breeding to no avail, (been there didn’t get it done either) and decided (much like us in the past and are going to again) to get their own buck.  Thank the goat breeding gods they did…one text message and Sam was here this afternoon.  Sam is a Nigerian and Stella is a Nubian but here is hoping that even though it is a tall order for him I think Sam may rise to the occasion.  Everyone cross their fingers and toes, because  I am truly so done with goat sex and sexual puns at this point……

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