Mud, Muck and Improv! Oh My!

This has been a very strange winter. One day it's seventy, and the next it's twenty. But the one thing almost all the days have in common is rain. Last fall everything was bone dry, and now a dry place can't be found. The wonderful thing about goats and rain, at least here, is hoof issues. Through the years we have probably tried every remedy know to man, brought home everything the stores had to offer, and the vet, and then moved on to the experimental phase. Almost everything is off label use for goats, luckily it's hard to kill a goat with meds. Goats are bent on killing themselves in some beyond belief fashion and are determined that you are never going to do anything to kill them.

I have the day off today and so I decided that at least one goat had to be worked on this morning regardless of what the weather was doing. So I caught the worse one, which wasn't difficult since she had gotten into the habit of picking somewhere to lay and me serving her breakfast every morning. She was at all happy about having the lead put on and even less enthralled with the hoof trimming, cleaning and medicating that ensued. I do wish that I had thought to video her sad walk to the barn. After cleaning her feet and looking at the forecast for the rest of the week, I decided she needed to come to the barn for a few days to give her feet a chance to dry up and heal, before sending her back to the mud field. To hasten drying and healing I put three of her four hooves into booties filled with copper sulfate. She is one of the yearling does and has never had booties on before so it was step, shake that foot, stop, yell, step, shake, stop yell all the way to the barn. The guardian dogs decided I must be killing her and came to investigate, which slowed the procession even more. But finally she was in a stall with feed, water and hay, and dry! At least when she finally gets a bootie off I stand a chance of finding it!

Here's what we have concluded works best for the hoof issues we have here. None of which are listed as goat treatments. First, we have started giving Fusoguard vaccinations to all the goats at least twice a year, and sometimes more. Fusoguard is for cows to help prevent hoof rot, and and incident rate of severe hoof rot has almost disappeared with the Fuso shots. Most of our kids make it well past their first year without incident, and some (usually the ones that aren't as object to regular trimming) go very long periods without trouble. When one does have issues, we clean, trim, and bath the hoof in oxytetracycline, we don't inject it, we use it topically and usually it does the trick. In the event that the weather is really wet (like now) I might opt to pack the hoof with copper sulfate. I've tried Koppertox and all the other such stuff out there and it was like pouring expensive water on the hoof. We found that a bucket of copper sulfate that is used in ponds works well though. In the past (before Booties) we saturated gauze with a solution of it, packed it between the hoof and wrapped with vet wrap. Then I found the goat booties at Jeffers ( I plan to order more). I have had great success just putting the copper sulfate in the boot and putting it on the goat. So far I haven't had much trouble getting them on, I can do it by myself. The goat does a great job spreading it round the hoof and the boot allows better air circulation than the vet wrap did and if the goat keeps them on longer than three days they are a lot easier to remove. Usually the goat does it for me and I just have to pick them up. They are bright blue, so I haven't lost one yet, but I count on losing a couple at some point. It's a farm everything gets lost eventually!

weather

it's true! Farmers talk about the weather a lot! Probably because the weather plays such a big role in farming, and there's no controlling it and we still aren't that great at predicting it. January here in southern middle Tennessee has been strange. One day it's seventy degrees and the next it's thirty. Just like humans animals don't do well with the constant change of seasons on a daily basis, so we have hoof issues from the rain, and snotty noses from the up and down of the thermometer. Some of the goats have started to shed their winter fuzz, just in time for the next wet cold spell. Spring plants have started pushing their way up and I have even spotted some blooming buttercups already. I've double checked the calendar, and it says February 3rd. This warm wet winter will lead to a very bug laden spring and summer, so I've started upping the worming and fly prevention already. Maybe I can put a small dent in the coming tide of insects. Right now it's cold and windy, but two days ago it was near 70, today I'm waiting for the afternoon high so I can go fill water tanks and trying to convince myself I don't need to make a chocolate peanut butter cake. :)

Ordinary farm life

Some mornings when the mud, much, and sheer amount of things that need your attention are overwhelming and you just wonder what on earth you are doing, you look up and the sheer beauty of the January sky reminds you, that you are doing this because it's absolutely beautiful.
 My boots developed a leak several weeks ago, about the same time I came down with bronchitis, and it has been truly all I can do some mornings just to get the critters fed and watered. The cold muddy water seeping up through my leaky boot, paired with the icy wind and the remnants of the bronchitis had me in a not too happy mood this morning. I was trudging toward the field to feed the majority of the goat herd, horse and the two herd dogs. As I headed toward them, all the things I needed to do with them, for them, flooded through my mind. I need to move the buck from the field, need to trim hooves, give shots, sort who's going and who's staying. Then I saw the sky, it was January gray, icy looking gray clouds filled the horizon, and directly above the blue open sky with sunlight striking the white bare trunks of the tulip poplars. It was breathtaking. Only God can paint such a beautiful canvas and speak to our troubled minds to just look up and remember He's got this.

The next dog in our life was Lucky, he was Aaron's dog. I think Aaron was four and tired of sharing Harley, so he asked for a spotted dog like Snoopy for Christmas. So the search for a beagle began. I finally located one near where Keith's parents lived so we made arrangements to pick him up the next time we were there to visit. Santa left an ornament with a note that said the actual dog was at the grandparents. We went to get Lucky and he was probably a little older than we were told and had an enlarged rib cage, which was fine with us, but made him a not very useful hunting dog. So Lucky was introduced to subdivision life. Lucky and Harley did fine together. Lucky was just too smart and Aaron taught him all kinds of bad habits. Like how to climb the chain link fence, the ladder to the fort, and other such feats of escape. Walks often ended in Aaron flapping in the breeze behind Lucky or everyone running after Lucky. When we bought the land here and started building the house, whenever possible we would bring Harley and Lucky out for awhile. Lucky was so happy, so many wonderful beagle type things to smell! That's when we learned that Lucky had allergies. Poor thing, would sometimes sneeze so hard that his whole body would lift off the ground and do a shimmy in mid-air. But he would always go right back to the nose on the ground tracking. Lucky usually stayed close to his pack (the boys), but unlike Harley, he was better suited to tromps through the woods. Lucky picked up a limp at one point which was caused by a broken foot that Harley got. Lucky was fine,  I guess he just thought if Harley was limping he should too. He was always right with whoever was outside. When no one was outside he was usually in his house or on the porch. He did however like to poke his nose into places that perhaps his nose shouldn't have been. Which once resulted in a very nasty snake bite to the side of his mouth. It was really cold outside but we drove to the vet with all the windows down, because right after up close personal skunk smell that is the worse smell ever. His little beagle face was swollen, and foam was dripping from his overly swollen face. You knew he was bad because when we got to the vet, Lucky who strangely loved going to the vet and always promptly plopped himself into a chair in the waiting room like a person, but this time he just lay at Aaron's feet. Amazingly Lucky made a full recovery from his snake encounter, although he did avoid the firewood pile after that. One of my favorite pictures is Aaron and Lucky laying on the driveway together. Let's face it there's nothing like a boy and his dog. :) Maybe I'll figure out how to post pictures here soon and add some of the pooches pics. Anyway, Lucky too had a wonderful long happy life, until cancer reduced him to a feeble little skeleton. Even then as weak as he was he would try to follow Aaron, and Aaron would come carrying him back home. Ms. Denise graciously came out to the house and helped us say good-bye to Lucky. I tried to send Aaron into the house, but he insisted on staying with him, and honestly, he handled it better than me. We buried Lucky in the woods where he and the boys had spent so many happy hours together.

Have you seen the previews for the new movie entitled, "A Dog's Purpose"? From the previews I have a suspicion it will be a movie I want to watch and that I will most likely cry and laugh all the way through it. There have been many dog's that have come through Green Meadow Farm over the last seventeen years and almost every one of them has taken a piece of my heart with them. I love dogs, they always look at you as if you are the greatest thing ever and it's almost like all they really want in life is to make you happy with them. Our first dog happened long before the farm, it was Jared's dog. When he was about eighteen months old he asked for a dog. He was going through chemo and had just lost his right eye to cancer, of course he was going to get a dog! The problem was no matter how many dogs we looked at there was never a Harley. Yes, the name came before the dog. Now, I had purposefully avoided the pet store in the mall, because my loving husband had said he would NEVER buy a mall dog. To be fair I didn't really think it was a great idea either. But, as fate would have it I did not get by the pet store fast enough one day and lo, and behold Jared yells out "Harley!", and that was it. Harley was a blonde cock-a-poo at the mall pet store. I don't remember how much we paid for Harley. I do remember that Keith's parents chipped in half to buy him and that he came complete with a load of worms, kennel cough, and a few other health issues, that took quite a few vet visits to clear up. We tried to let Harley live in the house, but me and Harley had differing opinions on where he should sleep, so he went outside and came inside to play with Jared. Harley was very dedicated to his boy. Even though he was far to old for the adventures the boys went on when we moved out here he would follow them through swamps and thickets, until his long coat was so entangled that the boys would come get me to cut him out of a thicket of briars. Once free he would continue following. He saved them from a Cotton mouth before we moved out here, they were playing in a wading pool on the patio and Harley was in the fence and having a absolute fit. I finally went over and laid on the ground where he was barking to see what he was looking at and heading straight for the pool was a three to four foot long cotton mouth. Keith got the hoe and I grabbed the boys and put them in the house. Harley had put up such a fuss that the snake had turned an headed toward him instead of the water. What followed was a battle royale, between Keith with a dull hoe and a snake that was determined to win, and I was trying to hold Harley back and the boys were pressed against the door. The snake finally lost. If Harley didn't like you and I didn't know you, you were likely to be asked to leave. Harley would go blackberry picking with us and he learned to pick the berries somehow, however, he always ate what he picked. :) He also learned to say "FOOOO-oooo-oood", which he would greet us with every morning. Harley lived a long and happy life and is buried just outside the picket fence under the witch hazel tree. I've always thought of him as a gift to Jared from God, but he was a gift to all of us, a wonderful, loyal, loving part of our family. Tomorrow I will try to write about the next dog, which was Aaron's dog, Lucky the beagle.

Today with warmer temperatures farm life has taken a backseat to the latest decision dilemma. Yesterday the result for a radon test that was done at our office building came in and they were extremely high. The readings were equivalent to those from in a coal mine, which means that the health risk for working there are very high. I've been wrestling with the decision of whether to retire now or continue working for several months now and every time I think I've figured it out something happens that really makes me question my decision. But this recent finding has me very concerned, not just for myself, but for everyone who is and has worked in that building. If I were in charge no one would be in that building until a second reading was taken and if the readings were confirmed no one would be there until abatement had been finished and the building was back to an acceptable level. I will be talking with my bosses about my concerns and I plan to spend as little time in the building as possible. Those who know me well know that I certainly don't do this job for the money, I could make more almost anywhere else and I have zero benefits through my job, so if I were to get sick from this toxic environment that I've worked in the past five years, theres nothing about my job that would prove helpful. So if you're reading this you're probably saying that this seems like an easy decision, just quit, why risk further exposure. Well, it's the whole reason I applied for the job, the only reason I continue to do the job; I feel like I'm doing something good, something worthwhile, something that might make a difference in a child's life. If I come to the decision to leave this job I will definitely miss watching  the learning and growing process. So what too do? I kind of feel like Hamlet, I ask to be or not to be, that is the question, whether tis nobler
to stay and suffer the ill effects now or later or cut the risks.
I think of it like this.I like to swim in the ocean when I'm there. I swim happily without hesitation  not knowing whether there ad sharks or jellyfish nearby, but if I see or know that sharks, jellyfish or dangerous conditions exist I don't go swimming. So while I didn't know the  conditions of the building I went there without regard to whether there was an added risk, but now that I know there is an added risk it is going to be difficult to make myself stay in the building for very long at all.

Ahh, the glorious adventures of farm life. One more night of below freezing temperatures, one more night in the barn for the ancient horse. Cisco (the horse) seems to have had a tussle with one of the goats and took a horn to the side of the face, which is now a small abscess. He hasn't put up too much of a fuss when I've flushed it with peroxide and antibiotics. He was feeling pretty good this morning, as he actually wanted to trot to the field from the barn this morning. So we both got our exercise in. :) Although I'm not a fan of the cold I do treasure getting to spend a little extra time and attention on my ancient horse. Cisco was a rescue, with lots of scars, from previous beatings, and when we first brought him home everything spooked him. He was somewhere in his twenties and was 'FREE" with the Arabian we purchased as my son's thirteenth birthday present, that was ten years ago. With time and gentle care and a lot of love, he learned to trust me. Although, he calls the shots, meaning if he doesn't want to be caught you can forget it. Ten years ago I did ride him, just around the farm. We had a wonderful time walking around the farm together, until Aaron would race by on Radar (the Arabian) Yelling for Cisco to keep up. Cisco would then respond by speeding up to try to keep up with his field buddy, progressing into this bone jarring run, due to the amount of arthritis in hips. But he was determined to keep up, at least till I forced him back down to a walk. We were both happy to just walk. Now, when I get time, between goats, cows, and chickens, I bring him treats and brush him, and occasionally he lets me give him a hug. He's like a grumpy old man denying that he enjoys the attention, but I know he does.