The last of my nannies finally kidded out. Meet “Inspire and Revive.” Odd names for goats, you say? Well, there is a back story. There is always a back story.
I was perusing the Dr. Carson for President FB page when I came on a photo of a guy wearing the same “Ben Carson for president” T-shirt that I have. I thought to myself – why not. I’ll snap a selfie of me in my T-shirt and post it to my FB page to show support to what I believe may be our only hope for this struggling country that for decades has gone so very, very wrong.
With cell phone camera in hand and donning my freshly washed and oh-so-comfy wearable bumper sticker – I head for the general area of the goat shed where adequate lightning is sure to be had. As my finger lingered over the shutter button, a distressing sound emanated from the goat shed. I have heard that sound often enough to know that a goat was in need of assistance.
Sure enough, my last nanny was trying to give birth. This was her first time kidding and she looked as if she had been at it for some time. She was tired and weak. I could see tiny feed inside of the water sack “bubble” protruding from what I will refer to as “the baby shoot.” I know – silly – but there are some words I have difficulty saying, let alone typing.
I don’t have dainty little girly hands. There wasn’t room for me to reach in and help pull the baby. I couldn’t do a goat episiotomy without running back to the house for a sharp knife. Remember, I was dressed for a photo shoot – not capra aegagrus hircus obstetrics.
I broke the water bag and was able to barely get hold of the tiny hooves. I pulled and “Checkers” pushed. The baby came out backwards. Rather large for a first time momma. He was lifeless. I cleared the sack from around his nose and mouth and gave him a brisk shake. He sucked in his first breath and commenced to coughing. I tossed him toward Checkers head and waited for the next. It’s better for first time mommas to have singles, but not uncommon for them to have twins. I could tell by the way she was acting there was another one in there.
Checkers got up and down several times – totally ignoring the little buck she’s just given birth to. I left her alone for a few minutes while I ran in the house to get some clean towels. I was covered in goat-goo from my favorite T-shirt to the bottoms of my Dickies.
Back at the barn, Checkers was on her side and struggling to push out baby number two. I was able to reach in this time and feel for two feet. Backwards like the first. I winced as I pulled. It always feels like you are going to pull off their little legs. Out came a multi-colored, lifeless baby goat. I cleared her mouth and nose. Nothing. I hung her upside down by the feet and swung her around. It sounds cruel – but has revived a lot of babies by clearing their lungs. Still nothing. Shit. Aside from the momma and twins I’d lost a few weeks earlier – I’d had an excellent survival rate of 100%. I cupped my hand over the babies muzzle and blew several good breaths. A few seconds later and the baby sneezed and coughed to life. I tossed her alongside her brother and backed away. I learned if you interfere too much – the mommas can reject the babies.
Checkers is doing exceptionally well for a first time momma. The babies are thriving and healthy. Inspire and Revive buck, kick and strive to keep up with their rambunctious cousins nearly two weeks older than they. I soaked my Dr. Carson for president T-shirt in Shout and set it to cold wash. It came out surprisingly clean with no trace of blood or goat-goo.
Needless to say, my photo-op would have to wait until another day. Back at my computer I posted a reply to the post of the man wearing the identical T-shirt. One of the posters suggested I post a picture of the babies and name one of them Ben. I thought about doing just that. However, I’m not sure how city folk would respond to being named after a goat. I thought about naming them Ben and Candy – or maybe Carson and Mrs. Hughes… (Downton Abby friends will understand where I’m going with this.) Instead– I opted to call them Inspire and Revive, part of the slogan representing the healing hands of a man I feel would make an excellent President. A man who has not lowered himself to the reality TV circus that has become the norm in today’s politics. A man who in every debate has been the only contender to answer every question to the point and with integrity.
Unlike my T-shirt – we can’t toss the country in the wash and hope for the best. We need to wake up, pull our heads out of the sand and take action. Like two little goats that came into this world kicking and fighting for their first breath – I pray that Dr. Carson kicks and fights his way to the White House despite the odds. I whole heartily believe the very breath of our country depends on it.