Thinking back over the course of this winter has me certain of one thing: I have very little control how this life unfolds and am basically along for the ride.
Horrendous winds, unseasonable thaws, and deep freezing temperatures... ain't nothing you can do about that. The weather has been unspeakable, unpredictable and mostly unpleasant.
The wind blew upwards of 90 miles an hour this week- just one of many windstorms we've endured recently. Then the temperature plummeted to the vicinity of 25 below, though it was only 15 below here on the mountain. Now it's supposedly going to hit 36 by the weekend. Craziness.
Sometimes you just have to throw up your hands and accept that it is what it is, and it will be what it will be and quit worrying about it. Take for instance, the unfolding of Pleasant's twinbirth which took place over the last few days.
The gestation of a goat is 150 days. Around day 143 I start watching 'em pretty close, though last spring I had one go on day 140. Pleasant pushed it to day 154 this time. She was extremely slow to progress... it seemed excruciatingly slow from my viewpoint, but I trust nature and I trust birth and I was willing to let it go as it would.
Her bottom got soft. A couple days later her tail got loose. Next, the babies dropped down low. A few days later her milk came in. Then mucus started to drip. The next day she finally dilated and the birth sac began to bulge. After the leisurely approach to birth, all hell broke loose.
Out came the placenta. Knowing this was a very bad sign, and that an emergency was suddenly at hand- I opened the box of OB gloves that I had waiting and dove in. A large perfectly formed doeling was lined up at the entrance, but it was everything I could do to pull her out.
Either Pleasant didn't have enough hormones on board, or the baby was too big, or something. I don't know what, and will never know. I got the baby out and tried to revive her to no avail. As she expelled more birth fluids, I spotted an extra set of hooves. Detached hooves, unattached to a kid. Yikes.
So I went back in to see what I could find. All I found was goo. Off color goo like old decayed tissue. It took two days for Pleasant to pass the decomposed twin. There were no bits bigger than a quarter... a few pieces of skin, hair, bone, and lots of goo.
Meanwhile, I had started nutritional therapy and homeopathic/herbal treatments right away to get her back on track lest I lose the doe as well as the expired kids. Then I did something unprecedented and put her on a 5 day course of penicillin to avoid the metritis I felt was right around the corner considering the circumstances.
Could any of this been avoided? Perhaps. Or maybe not. But one thing is certain. I'm not in charge.