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The title of this post is indicative of black humor. This is not actually a humorous post. If you are in the mood for something funny today, try Bedtime Story or An Unfortunate Affair.
This is a farm and this is our journey. It’s not all pretty, and sometimes it’s sad. It’s real. That’s all I can promise.
One morning last week I went out to give cookies to the goats. Fanta really wanted one. She’s curious about me and my treats. She’s the braver of our two new girls. Sprite hangs back, waiting for Fanta to tell her if I’m okay. Fanta is the bold leader. She almost got a cookie, finally, but she hesitated a half-second too long and a chicken ran up out of nowhere, snatched it, and raced away.
I went back to the house then I realized Pepsi hadn’t come for a cookie. Pepsi always comes for a cookie. I went back to look for him.
I found him dead on the goat house porch.
I don’t know why. There was no warning. He looked like he just went to the porch, sat down…and died. He had been fine the day before, no apparent signs of illness. No coughing or runny nose, no diarrhea. His coat was healthy and he was eating. The only slightly odd thing I had noticed about him were moments when he seemed to stand oddly still. Goats don’t really just stand still. They’re looking around, eating, grooming themselves. I noticed repeated instances when he stood very still. I watched him, but there was no straining or crying, as would be if he had a stone, which I always worry about with a male. He’d just stand really still for a minute in a strange way then go on and act normal. I actually thought about calling the vet and saying, “My goat! He’s STANDING STILL!” But that sounded a little silly. And I couldn’t see anything wrong with him.
The day after I found Pepsi, it just so happened we were talking to a vet from the USDA about enrolling our farm in the federal scrapie program. Scrapie is a fatal degenerative disease in sheep and (more rarely) goats. (We don’t have any reason to believe Pepsi had scrapie–this was an unrelated event.) Scrapie is evidenced by signs such as excessive rubbing and scratching, lack of coordination, tremors, etc. It’s a disease of the central nervous system. The federal government operates a program to identify and track sheep and goats through assigning flock numbers to individual farmers and providing free genetic testing. (If you’re interested in enrolling your farm in the scrapie program, contact your local USDA office.) To our fortune, the vet became quite interested when he found out about our animals as we have such unusual breeds. He was particularly interested in our Jacobs and Fainting goats. Often, they just assign a flock number over the phone, but he said, “I want to come out and see those critters.”
And so the very next day after that, he was here. Usually, unless there is a specific reason to believe there is scrapie present in your flock, they start out by testing the ram(s). Mr. Cotswold enjoyed the whole process.
Scrapie has been found more often in Suffolk sheep than any other breed, so Annabelle got a test, too, as she is a Suffolk/Dorset cross.
We bent his ear about Pepsi, of course. And we told him about Honey, too. (What is it with boys? Why can’t we raise a boy here???) He listened. He examined each and every one of our goats. He even went over Jack and Pocahontas. He was here for two and a half hours. (I can’t imagine what an on-site veterinary visit of that length and extent would cost. This was FREE.)
Clover loved him.
He told us that when a goat dies suddenly, he looks at four main possibilities: parasites, stones, poison, or pneumonia.
We worm our goats regularly with a liquid wormer based on weight that was recommended by our vet. This was a wormer we only started using several months ago, so while animals may become immune to one type of wormer over time, we hadn’t been using this one very long. There’s always a possibility Pepsi wasn’t responding to this particular wormer. The other goats checked out good as far as parasites, though, so it seems unlikely Pepsi died due to that cause. His coat was healthy and he didn’t show other signs of having a dire parasite problem. As for stones, there was no crying in advance of Pepsi’s death. Stones are very painful. (When Honey had a stone, there was no doubt he had a problem that was hurting him! He wailed pretty loud and pretty often–I dosed him with vinegar and he recovered quickly.) The vet said he’s never known of a goat to die of stones without making a big fuss about it first. He felt comfortable ruling that out as a possibility. Could Pepsi have eaten something toxic in the environment? Again, not likely as we’ve been keeping goats in this same yard for over a year and we’ve been over it and know of no toxic plants here. Pneumonia is common in both fall and spring with seesawing weather changes. Young goats are particularly susceptible. In particular, interstitial pneumonia can bring down a goat in as little as 12 hours, with little to no symptoms. One of the few signs relating to interstitial pneumonia is an odd standing about, standing quite still, apart from the herd……
And yet we still don’t know why. Even after making a “federal case” out of it by having a federal vet evaluate our farm and our animals and our methods. Maybe it was Clover in the lounge with a candlestick. We are left with some suspicions of what may have taken him, regret over not following up on a nebulous gut instinct, but we don’t know for sure and won’t know for sure as it was too late by then to have a necropsy. (He also gave us the name and number of a USDA inspector who would come pick up an animal for us so that we can have a necropsy if this should ever occur again. The not knowing why is the worst part.)
As we have had such bad luck with bucks, I went through a small depression thinking I should just establish a goat nunnery.
Mother Cloveresa.
Sister Mary Nutmeg.
Sister Catherine Fanta and Sister Magdalena Sprite.
And yet…… That’s not going to get me any cheese. And so we went over everything with the vet, had him put his hands on each animal, discussed our housing and feeding and supplements and medications.
And were reassured and encouraged.
We will perservere.
Pepsi had a special relationship with Pocahontas. He spent more time with her than any of the goats. She liked to lick his ears. And he let her.
Nothing worth having comes easy. Especially a farm.
We love you, Pepsi.
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Don’t give up on the bucks though… I’m anxiously looking forward to your posts about all of the kidding!
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I read this, I cried.
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Blessings,
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I have sheep and when one of them dies it is heart wrenching. There will be a new buck in your future.
Your does will learn to love him, too.
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Awwww Suzanne – it’s never easy. After losing our wether Houdini, I felt the same way about the males. But I’ve had Tommy now for almost exactly a year.
Beth aka oneoldgoat
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Beth aka oneoldgoat
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http://sprucehill.typepad.com/
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~Jenny~
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Yes, it is part of normal farm life, but the sense of loss is very real. If we get to share in the joys of your farm, we must also share your sorrows, Suzanne. We will all miss your Pepsi…
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A nice thing though,you have all those beautiful pictures for memories.
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(((HUGS)))
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I’m reminded of what a farmer told us years ago: “If you’re gonna have livestock, you’re gonna have deadstock.” A little brutal, but true.
I still remember one of our goats, a milking doe, that we found dead one morning. Had an autopsy done, but even that failed to reveal what happened to her. Sometimes you just never know.
So sorry about Pepsi.
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can’t even type thru tears
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Your USDA guy was amazing, so kind.
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So perhaps his little heart just exploded with love at the thought of not 1 but 2 such lovelies.
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We are milking the momma who lost the baby and I have been making goat cheese. I posted about it on my blog today. We are loving it.
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Too bad about your little Pepsi though.
take care,
Juli
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So sorry about your beautiful boy.
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When I bought my first bullmastiff, Boo, the bredder told me to be hyper-vigilent about her personality quirks because bullmastiffs have such a high tolerance for pain. She said the minute I see the slightest difference in personality that I should race the dog to the vet.
I dismissed it & didn’t give it a second thought.
Until one day when walking Boo she suddenly stopped in her tracks & laid down on the ground. Something she never did & suddenly the breeder’s words came rushing back to me.
I left Boo there while I grabbed the keys, pulled the car around, loaded her 125 lb. butt up & raced to the emergency vet.
By the time we got there, Boo was her usual happy, smiling self & the ER vets looked at me like I was crazy. “This is the healthiest dog we’ve seen all day!”
I stood my ground & made them run a blood test on her. They shook their heads & gave me all kinds of weird looks. But in the end, the blood results showed that a liver enzyme was through the roof & that if it was controlled quickly she could die.
It was then that I really learned…always trust your gut – no matter what anybody thinks of it.
Much love from an overseas Army wife,
Jennifer
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I too have lost several animals lately and know just how you feel but I wouldn’t ever not have my little farm because while I had them they lived a very good life…just like Pepsi. And what more could an animal want?
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Never give up.
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He shall deffinately be remembered.
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=^^=