Archive | 4:36 pm

Bambi’s Lucky and Daisy is Crazy

9 Jun

Saturday was a wild and crazy day from start to finish, and I didn’t have my camera for any of it.  It began with my 6:15 am check of pregnant girls wearing my night shirt and muck boots.  That’s pretty much standard “checking goats” attire.  When I went out the door, I saw the tails of the entire herd (including three llady llamas) headed over the hill in the bean field.

Myson climbs on the panels. He’s actually accidently climbed over and not been able to get back.  Old twine can’t handle his weight.

It ended with my 10:15 pm check of pregnant girls, once again in jammies and muck boots.  I couldn’t find Bambi.  Seriously.  I went around the barnyard and through the whole barn like three times.  My heart sank.  That meant she was in the Back Forty with her baby or babies.  Alone with coyotes.

Bambi (about a week ago)

I took my little flashlight and started sweeping across the hill in front of me.  I knew they had gone out late, so she had to be on this side of the ditch.  That made the area to search much smaller.  I was hoping to glimpse a flash of Bambi’s white as I swept the light back and forth.  I thought I saw her once, but it was just an old stump.

Ironically, I have a picture of the stump because it’s the one Antigone got stuck in last summer.

I kept going on the bottom.  I would occasionally call her name.  No answer.  Then, as I was walking, right in front of me was a place where the foot-and-a-half tall grass was all flattened.  In the middle of that flattened grass was a bright white baby all dry and curled up asleep.  No Bambi.


I scooped up the Lucky baby and kept walking, thinking bottle kid and coyote and all kinds of horrible thoughts, but logic kicked in.  There was no blood.  The baby was snuggly happy.  She probably was trying to hide herself close by.  I kept calling to her, but she didn’t answer.  By this time, I was heading up the hill back towards the barnyard.  Lucky got a bit fussy and started calling to his mom too.  Then I saw a flash of movement out of the corner of my eye.  There it was again.  Bambi was headed down to where she had left her baby.

I called to her, and Lucky called again, and she changed her course to us.  I let them bond for a minute while I kid a bit more searching for any other baby; although, it would be completely unlikely that she had them in two different places.

The goat that avoids me like the plague was glued to my side as we walked back to the barnyard.  A lot of times, you  have to hold the baby in front of them and coax a mom to come.  Not this time.  She was practically leading the way to the barnyard.

She was quite happy to be home with her little Lucky boy.  I think the look says it all: Why weren’t you out there to help me sooner?  Sorry, Bambi, it was quite the day.

This morning, I noticed Daisy.  She wasn’t really doing anything overt to suggest she was going to kid, but she looked like she had dropped and…

If you’re going to have a baby, why not on the compost pile?


Last year it was on top of the work bench.

Kidding in 2018

She never pushed.  The bag was out. The bag broke.  She had contractions, and she never pushed.  Finally, I decided I had to intervene.  Because if she’s not going to push, I have to pull.  Daisy, however, is crazy.  I couldn’t catch her.  She ran, I tried to corner her; she eluded me.  She tried going out to pasture, but I snuck past and headed her off. I finally found a couple of cattle panels to sort of block and direct her, and I finally got her trapped in a corner and drug her across the barnyard.  I do literally mean dug–I think her hooves left inch deep furrows all the way.

Daisy and her 2019 doe

We got to the greenhouse, and I snapped a collar on her and felt big feet.  She really just needed to push.  Anyhow, she has a big daughter.

This little girl looks a lot like daddy, Zeus.

Crazy brat.  (By the way, she gets it from her maa, Bambi.)  Hopefully, the crazy skips this generation.

Only two more to go!