>This time last week there was absolutely no guarantee that my beloved Rosie was going to make it through the night.
She’s moving about with almost none of the hesitant stumble of a few days ago – almost – almost -steady on her pins and if you can believe it, has put on a wee bit of weight… the great hollows in her sides have almost disappeared.
Her eyes and gums are still white because the blood replacement stuff doesn’t work over night but she looks much much better
so all those good thoughts that you guys sent must’ve done some good, eh?
She’s not impressed with the B complex shots in the bum but otherwise all’s well and I can look forward to some sleep tonight.
little happy dance here
oh and one last thing – I believe that I did mention that we’d had an unseasonable cold snap – hence the goat coats – well, it lasted all week, mild but nice days around the low 20s but cold clear nights which I got to experience first hand, and in honour of the very last day of Summer, last night’s minimum temp was 4.5 degrees C and believe me, at 3am in a drafty goat shed, it certainly felt like it.
ETA Saturday morning 7am – well the thermometer says it’s currently 4.1 and the overnight low was 3.1 BRRR
Here’s Ms Rosie today modeling the latest Summer fashions for the steadily recuperating and discerning goat:
We’ve had very cold nights so she still has to wear her Goat Coats ( old blankets ) until she puts a bit of mass back on.
the vet admitted today that he hadn’t held out any hope of her making it through the weekend so I feel pretty good about her condition now, all things considered.
In other news I know how to give an intramuscular vitamin B12 injection to a largely muscle-less goat – although I ended up wearing some of the first one I gave her… and check out the name of the product in the box … and you have to think phonetically
Also, in what was clearly a momentous day, I plied my first handspun yarn and it’s currently ‘resting’ on the niddy noddy waiting for a bath tomorrow
I also skirted a couple of really really dirty fleeces that I’ve been given and I’m trying to work out if it’s worth getting them cleaned and scoured – I mean these must’ve been the dirtiest sheep in history.
Sophie did her usual thing and got seriously silly on the lanolin pheromones in Shirley Sheep’s fleece while ignoring the black fleece from Shirley’s friend Shaun.
ETA a note for Janine C… if you ever need a few kilos of fleece to make up the 20 kg for that guy in Bendy, let me know, ok?
Helped my friendly spinning coach, Diane, with her Japanese quilt and did some last minute finishing on a class sample for tomorrow that should’ve been done a week ago but we all know why it wasn’t, don’t we?
and there was even time for a leisurely cup of chai with Robyn out on the verandah – glorious perfect morning, maggies and kookas caroling, a goat on the mend and a good friend to chat too.
and finally in the ‘ it only happens when the camera’s in the back seat out of reach ‘ file: one small and gorgeous wallaby hopping across the street in the residential area when I was taking David in yesterday morning – Ray Street for those who know Castlemaine
>Rosie is still hanging in there. Fighting me every inch of the way on drinking the electrolyte mixture, but I figure even that shows an improvement that she’s got the energy to fight me.
Brenda next door helped me to get her up on her feet late yesterday and she stayed up – heart pounding furiously and every muscle trembling – but she stayed up for somewhere between five and ten minutes.
This gave us a chance to milk her and she took advantage of the pressure being off her bladder to do what needed doing. I don’t know if all goats are the same but she’ll poop lying down but won’t or can’t wee. SO between the boobage and the bladder, she was probably pretty glad to be up off the floor for a while.
I managed to get her up by myself this morning but she gave me a pained little cry when I tried it at lunchtime so Brenda-next-door [ hereinafter to be referred to as BND ] came over and we managed it again with the same result as before.
Sorry if those of a delicate and genteel nature find that too much info :]
Anyway this time she even managed a tiny wobbly step or two.
I’m allowing myself a little cautious optimism while simultaneously being terrified of what the blood test is going to show.
The last few days have been uncannily like having a newborn on two hourly feeds with two major addendums.
One – I am no longer as young and sprightly as I was when I actually HAD newborns to tend
Two – most newborns are in relative proximity to Mum – not halfway up the hill ! Basically what’s happening is that, by the time I get back inside, I’m wide awake. Being the world’s worst sleeper, I either am still awake two hours later, or just beginning to drift off.
On the other hand I’ve probably had more practice at muddling on while sleep deprived than most people.
Thanks for the continuing kind and positive thoughts … I just love how these here internets work … I was ‘speaking’ to the other Robbyn, the non-caprine Bostonian version, a few hours ago [ knitting Chat every Sunday lunchtime / Saturday night ] and the first thing out of her – well, I was going to write ‘mouth’ but – keyboard, was “How’s Rosie?” Here’s someone on the other side of the planet, that I have never met, who cares about my little family and vice versa.
>well she managed to make it through the night and doesn’t seem to have lost any ground.
She’s eating a bit and alert, just can’t move herself.
Thanks for all the kind thoughts. I’m hanging in there. Stressed, tired, emotional and in need of some serious hugs, but hanging in there.
Nadie offered to jump in the car and drive up here but I don’t want her going through what I am.
You know animals never cease to amaze me. Just when you think that you’ve figured them out, they do something to confound you.
Case in point:
Goats hate getting wet. Really really hate it… to the point where they will huddle in a complaining bunch under the meagre protection of the eaves, standing up all night, rather than sprint a few dozen yards to the dry goat house.
Last night it rained, and Rowan and Robbyn were shut out of their house [ Ruby was in there for company and because she would behave]
Rowan and Robbyn kept a drenched vigil against the side of the shed all night long, never moving more than five feet from Rosie’s position.
who said goats are dumb animals?
Rosie hasn’t been well lately and has gone rapidly downhill in the last 24 hours. She may not make it.
If I can get her through the next 2 days she may have a chance but we just don’t know yet. Can’t do bloodtests till Monday and until they’ve come back, the vet doesn’t know what’s causing her severe anemia, and muscle loss.
I’ll be pouring electolytes into her every 2 hours over night and keeping fingers crossed… and in the ultimate irony she’s hypothermic and the weather which has been scorching for weeks has turned into rain and I’ve had to bundle her up in old blankets.
I know that she’s ‘just a goat’ but she’s my girl
I’m not handling this very well at all. I’m feeling weepy and tearful and alone … David’s here but of course he doesn’t understand and isn’t able to comfort.
and btw – have you ever tried to move a 60kg animal that can’t get up ?
>Jeanette and I decided that today would be a good day to go over to Daylesford.
We were both free for a few hours, so why not?
I had some class samples and a requirements list for the Spa Quilters who meet there, every Thursday.
We both wanted to go to Purl’s Palace and check up on Zoe and Andy [post massive spinal surgery]
and of course, the prospect of lunch at the Himalaya Bakery which isn’t open on a Tuesday when we go over there for Purl’s Princesses, our knitting group.
I had arranged to pick her up at 10 but when I got there, the new Avon lady was ensconced and talking the hind leg off a donkey – and given that I was vaccinated with a grammophone needle, you may take it that this lass is a MAJOR talker… pleasant, chirpy, but by Christ, could she talk!!
Anyway we eventually got underway about 11ish, had a pleasant half hour drive over to to Daylesford and our first stop at Purl’s.
Zoe and Andy were in Melbourne for a post op checkup but we were looked after quite nicely by the lass who was holding the fort. By a mere whisker, I managed to avoid the trap set for me by a beautiful book on kimono silks but there’s the distinct possibility that it will still manage to ambush me on a future visit. They’re wiley like that.
Anyway, after buying a small something to be added to Beryl J’s berfday goodies – and if you don’t mind I won’t show you just in case – off we trotted to the Holy Cross Hall – same place that Karen and I clog on a Monday night, to find …
locked up tighter than the proverbial drum
Yes folks, we had managed to choose the one Thursday probably for the whole year that they had decided to all go down to Melbourne for the Australian Quilt Convention.
lunch at the Himalaya was as nice as it always is. and vegan cupcakes were purchased for Ms Nadie’s next visit and are currently ensconced in the freezer.
A quick troll through the Bargain Shop- cheap knickers for Dave and some incense sticks, and cards and bits and bobs for Jeanette, and we hopped back into la voiture for the trip back to Castlemaine. The scenery changes so dramatically over the course of those 50 km. I really never get tired of it.
basically we had a lovely day out but given that the whole reason for the visit was the class stuff … oh well, ya just gotta laugh, right?
Now I believe that there is the unfinished business of some spinning to be addressed.
Unlike a certain Sheepish Annie who has been elevated to spinning deification through her ability to produce consistent laceweight yarn, I am currently at the stage of swinging madly from lace weight to super bulky, and from over spun to hardly spun, all in the space of a foot-and-a-half of thread.
If you’re after lumpy, uneven, completely one of a kind, ‘rustic’ Border Leicester Cross yarn, well, look no further, I am SO your girl!
I believe that there was also a request for current goaty pictures?
Ruby and Rowan
Robbyn being an antisocial grump
and mama Rosie who is in Caprine Coventry because I’m still trying to wean Rowan.