It was a dark and stormy night. Isn’t that how all good stories are supposed to start? Tonight was that dark and stormy night.

We arrived home to the clap of thunder from a long day in town doing errands. I was in the process of looking at a new book, I’ve Got To Talk To Somebody, Lord, and passing out assignments as we were getting out of the van, when Mandy came running.

‘Mom, MOM, Clarabelle is pushing!” Just then the thunder clapped.

I quickly changed out of ‘town clothes’ and headed for the barn. It was 3:00 and had just begun to sprinkle. Children ran errands, I made myself and Clarabelle as comfortable as we could be in an open faced barn in the middle of a rain storm. And it did rain. Clarabelle and I and the occasional child waited it out hour after hour.

The rain finally stopped at 8:30, as Clarabelle’s  water broke. “All right now! Here we go!” We waited, and waited and finally at 10:00 I was worried. I went to the experts, Homesteading Today’s Goat forum. “You have got to go in.” Go IN, I gulped?? This is only my 3^rd goat to deliver in my first year of owning goats and I have to GO IN?

The only thing I knew about this was from watching reruns of the English vet from All Creatures Great and Small.  James Herriot would ask for a pail of hot soapy water and wash WAY up. Turns out one of the posters on HT suggested the same thing. I took a look, in my best English accent, asked for a bucket of hot soapy water and some old towels, and a cuppa tea for good measure.

With my arms washed as far as my shirt would roll up, I ‘went in’. EWWWWW!

I could just barely touch the hooves of the first kid, no head. Next contraction the hooves were out farther, I could get ahold of them. With the next contraction I grabbed on and pulled. Together we delivered a big buckling, breech. Everything appeared fine and I took a break and let mama have a few minutes to clean off baby. I knew there was at least one more, but I had to stop shaking.

When baby number two didn’t arrive after 30 minutes, I knew something was wrong. I ‘went back in’ and to my horror, found a back presenting! Again I relied on the English Vet James Herriot. “I have to push her back and turn her,” he calmly told the fidgeting farmer. Ok, if an Englishman could, so could this American lady. After her next contraction, I pushed the baby back and began looking for feet, ANY feet. Contraction, OUCH, Push back, search for feet, turn baby. I had them! YEAH! I maneuvered them around and with the next contraction guided him out.

I am happy to report, the mother appears to be happy and no problems. Both bucklings are up, dry and nursing. And this homesteader is headed to bed on this dark and stormy night, very happy and VERY tired.

Pictures below.

A tired mama

Curious bucklings!

Joyfully,

Cheryl