This morning, I didn't notice any goats outside eating their hay, which was a little surprising but not out of the realm of possibilities. They do have hay inside the shed. A couple hours later I heard Jip barking up a storm.
I peeked out the bedroom window and again didn't see anything wrong in the pasture. But Jip was barking so insistently I looked out a front-facing window... the goats were out! 😩
A quick check of the pasture gate showed that it was closed, so they had to have escaped a different way.
I threw on chore clothes and ran outside (leaving Jaron to finish his breakfast on his own for the time being). My mind raced to all the tender leafy plants just making their appearance on our homestead: the fruit trees finally leafing out, the hostas (nailed by the goats so often last year) poking up, a bunch of trees and shrubs yet to be planted, my colorful flower pots...
The goats didn't go back in nicely as I hoped. I also couldn't see where they had gotten out. And then I heard Gerda's whining cries from inside the shed. She sounded like she felt left out and/or was stuck, so I figured the goats had somehow gotten to the other side from inside the shed.
I went back in the house to grab Jaron. He was thrilled to go outside so early in the morning! I corralled three of the goats back into their pen. Then we went to check out the shed
This is what we found.
And then witnessed the goats I had just chased back inside jump right back out the chicken side. 🤦♀️
So, I blocked the chicken door so the goats couldn't escape the shed, chased the goats back onto their own side through the human door, and moved the bail so they wouldn't be able to hop over the pallets separating the two sides. It took a long time to get Gerda unstuck. Her horns wouldn't go back through the small opening. I ended up cleaning out the hay that had been blocking the underside of the hole, giving her more room to pull her head through. Whew!
What a morning.
And it wasn't over yet.
This next story is not for the faint of heart... 🥺
A friend of mine came by later in the morning to pick up her weekly dozen eggs. She and her son like to look at the animals when they do their pickup. She sent me this text, "Heads up I think Jip either killed or has nearly killed one of your chickens. Black and white speckled, did not get close enough to verify if it was dead but it was not moving at all."
Heart sinking, I raced outside again.
One of the trampoline chickens was huddled on the ground within Jip's tether range. My best guess is that it wandered within Jip's reach, thought it could escape into the shed, and didn't realize there was a fence blocking the way. That happened the other day with a couple mature chickens and thankfully I was outside to intervene. We definitely need to cut a chicken escape hole in the corner of the fence.
Jip was excited to see me, not really paying attention to the bird. But the damage had already been done. The poor thing had a big gaping wound between its neck and shoulder. It was shaking, clearly in shock. I picked it up and brought it into the garage to put with the two little ducklings that recently hatched.
Part of me hoped that we would be able to nurse it back to health, but the realistic side of me knew that we were going to have to put it out of its misery...
I had hoped G would volunteer to do it once he got home from work, but in the middle of busy season, who knows when that would be. He told me I had to do it. 😫 I knew he was right.
You'd think growing up on a farm would have prepared me for this more, however, most of the time nature took its course before we needed to intervene. That or my dad took care of it. There's only one time I can ever remember putting down an animal, and that was back in high school. Something was wrong with one of the baby lambs, and the vet said it was not going to make it. She recommended putting it out of its misery. I remember giving her the go-ahead and she gave it a shot. I'll never forget watching the life slowly drain out of this poor little lamb's eyes. Later, Dad chastised me a bit because the shot cost $60 (or was it more? I remember it was a lot) and we could have taken care of it ourselves.
Back to present day. I had hoped my in-laws would be available to watch Jaron while I did the necessary task. No such luck. So, with a heavy heart I strapped Jaron to my back and went outside to grab the chicken. I started crying before I even got to the spot I chose to put it out of its misery. And once I had taken care of it, I sobbed harder than I have in a long time. Thankfully since he couldn't see my face, Jaron thought my crying was actually laughter and he laughed to copy me.
We went in the house and read books and snuggled until I felt better.
I really hope this isn't a frequent occurrence. I don't know if my heart can handle it. 😭
No comments:
Post a Comment