Discovery of electric blanket meant I didn't freeze so the night was almost event free if you forget that my room is next to the kid pen...the little buggers scream randomly throughout the night and since I am in the middle of nowhere (had I mentioned that?) I am slightly on edge. Screaming in the dark will wake me. As will Dean, a large billy who head buts my wall.
One of our poorly kids made it, the other was a kiddy corpse by morning so Ahmed joined the others for morning feeding. This morning we had one dead and one hypothermic weedy little one very near death. He was presented to me limp and cold so I could save him. Righty ho then. I stuck my finger in his mouth to check his temperature which was very low indeed, so sat him in front of the fire (still cold), got a hair dryer on him (still cold), bundled him in a towel (which smelled god awful) and eventually plonked him in a bucket of hot water (started to warm up). In between short fits he was completely limp and his eyes were cloudy...I was very sure I was bathing a dead goat but occasionally he let out a week scream. I put some honey on the roof of his mouth then set about drying him with my hair dryer. There really isn't anything quite like the smell of hairdryed goat. I didn't have high hopes but my challenge had been to keep him alive so I wasn't going to give up until the others had returned from morning rounds. And guess what... HE LIVED! I saved the little blighter, got some milk in him and a couple of hours later he was skipping round with the others. I'm sure the more I do this the less exciting it will become but I definitely saved his life so that's a small victory for now!
Charlie and I left to check the fences leaving K'Marie trying to make the house a bit more sanitary. Ayrlie's attempts to save goats the day before meant there was an awful lot of goat excrement on the rug which combined with the fusty towel and newly dried goat was less than ideal.
We herded goats back into the paddock (no asbo billy this time) then spotted a dead goat stuck in a fence up ahead. When I got close I realised dead goat wasn't dead, she was very stuck and had been attacked by a cat. (The cats out here are HUGE and feral). Her back hooves were very tangled and it took a fair bit of effort to free her and her face was very bloody from the cattack. Once freed we lifted her over the fence to the right side (not a small goat) but since we are on foot carrying her back was not really an option. Ayrlie came by later and goat was still alive with a couple of kids nuzzled up to her so we popped them all in the ute and took them home. One of the kids was noisily reunited with its mother en route (very funny) and the other one has joined our menagerie. I have called her JY. Will wait to here how fence goat gets on. She was a very sad sight.
When Ayrlie and I returned Alex, a Scottish chap who used to work here and I'd heard a lot about, had arrived. Ayrlie: 'God, am I pleased to see you. This is Tiffany'. Nice. Alex stepped out of his ute, can of xxxx in hand and within minutes his 3 dogs were tearing around the yard, one with a chook (that's a chicken to me and you) in it's mouth. Watching a mass of feathers, dogs, goats and a man with an Aussie hat and beer in hand all running round was hilarious to say the least, it just needed the Benny Hill theme! We are now a chicken down.
We didn't see delightful Farmer Chris today because he is at home with Q fever. An infectious disease caught from goats. I only know this because I overheard a concerned Ayrlie asking Alex if he'd had his jab....not to worry about us then!
It was nice to have a new face in the house but my overwhelming memory of today will be the image of Charlie's right armpit that hasn't been shaved for her 3 month stay. Not fine.
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