Where Do Goats Sleep on Cold Nights?

...and the answer to this question is one of the main reasons I am so happy for spring! According to our local weather station, last month made history as the coldest February ever recorded (somewhere back to the 1800s, when our obsession with tracking these statistics began). I was determined not to bring the goats inside this winter, but when sub-zero temperatures hit and Elliot started waking up covered in frost (even in their closed shed), I relented and set up this improvised pen in the garage. It's been over a month since they've been back outside, but even now on chilly nights, Elliot stands with his nose pressed against the garage door - Remember that cozy bedroom we had, brother? Please?? Not a chance, goat. You might recall warmth, but the memories of horrendous clean-up each morning still haunt me...

In general updates, our cousins' goat Leia has apparently made a full recovery from the first ever recorded case of myasthenia gravis in a goat and is nearly weaned off all her experimental drugs (from six doses a day down to one). Findings will be published in veterinary journals later this year, approximately the same time my sister makes the final payment for Leia's ICU stay, x-rays, spinal tap, etc. Leia's transition back to the barn was more challenging as she had discovered not only the garage, but also the living room and eventually the master bedroom, where she tried valiantly to pretend she was just another dog in the heap who inhabit their king size bed.

Here at home, Elliot has had two doses of our latest attempt to eradicate his parasitic infestation. The same liquid we squeeze monthly on our cats for flea and tick control, this chemical apparently also kills mites on goats. Unfortunately, goat skin is impenetrable to the cat formula so Elliot gets a weekly whole-body treatment from a spray bottle. I wear full rain gear as Elliot does not particularly enjoy this procedure - as quickly as I spray it on, he shakes it off. At least I'll be protected from fleas, ticks and mites this spring!

Happy Shamrock Day!

A happy St. Patrick's Day from our deck to yours...With a wee bit of Irish blood in my ancestry, this is a holiday we always anticipated in years past. Almost more fun than filling the stockings on Christmas Eve was sneaking around the night before Shamrock Day to hide pennies, color the milk green and overturn furniture - mischief to be blamed on those tricky leprechauns who messed everything up and left little green footprints all around the house. One year our snow white cat even sported green stripes.

Sophisticated college girls now, my daughters are no longer awed by upside-down chairs and books turned backwards on the shelves. I might put Shrek ears on a goat, but the lure of plotting with imaginary little green men no longer exists. Still, those were good times...

How does a middle-aged mom stay current with teenagers who seem farther and farther away every semester? I try to connect by reading their book recommendations, watching Breaking Bad, listening to Vampire Weekend and learning about the Twigg Stitch (a knitting term, if you're wondering), but still the chasm widens as my once-little girls grow up. So I ask, can you blame me for what I tried today?

Home for spring break, Megan's been keeping busy with friends, projects, and daily workouts in the basement. Maybe it was the trendy yoga pants or the pert ponytail, but as I saw her heading downstairs the words just spilled from my mouth. "Wait up, Megs, I'll work out with you today." (After all, I used to do aerobics when they were first invented, took a class even, before kids. Here's an activity we can do together - surely the steps haven't changed that much in twenty years?)

Megan is nothing if not gracious. Her hesitation was barely evident before she nodded. "Sure, Mom, that's great. I'm doing a high-intensity cardio-dance video today. Ready now?"

I like to learn new things - here's my lesson for today. When you're my age, stick to goats. Push a broom back and forth, haul some hay bales. Leave zumba and hip-hop to the kids. Nine hours after that last uncoordinated kick, my limbs are still quivering jello and I may need help getting up from the couch. Just like leprechaun mischief, maybe some things (like the mamba triple-twist scissor kick) are best kept as distant memories...

Elliot's Struggle: A Little More

Yesterday was a rough morning for Elliot, like one of those days when you just want to crawl back in bed and start over. Plagued by unrelenting parasites that cause him to rub and bite himself raw, he faced the horror of  another vet visit. Chained to the deck railing, he was injected (steroids, antibiotics), shaved and scrubbed with betadine. The result? He looks cleaner, perhaps less itchy now that the bugs can no longer take refuge in his matted fur, and his sores will be easier for me to treat. Unfortunately, along with the humiliation of his shorn appearance comes the loss of any natural protection against winter chills, so he is confined to the garage except on the sunniest days. His stylish new coats are now standard wear, even indoors. Every day, we pray for spring!

Those who know us may recall that Ellie fought this same battle for some sixteen long months in years past, until we finally conquered the parasites last spring. This present recurrence, his apparent new resistance to parasecticide treatment and his unaffected brother leads me to wonder, will this be a lifelong struggle for Elliot? My veterinarian concedes that, yes, this may be a war we ever fight but never win. As I sweep piles of crusted hair from the deck, scour the treatment supplies and shed my soaked and stained clothing, I wonder how long I can do this. Ellie trembles at my approach - how will she hurt me this time? - and shivers even under his coat. The question hovers just beyond asking, can he endure a lifetime of this?

I scratch his ears, the one place he feels safe allowing my touch. I promise him days of sunshine, someday, long walks by the creek and warm nights to sleep on the shed roof (his favorite place in the world). Just hold out a little longer, Ellie, spring is almost here. We can face anything then.