A little while back Lee had knee surgery and we thought it went pretty well. In six weeks he would be able to run the hills of West Virginia chasing goats, we thought. When Lee went in at the last knee doctor visit, Lee told the doctor what all he had been doing. He had been riding the tractor and going out repairing fence. He had even cut down a few trees for the goats to eat, plus give us some future firewood. Lee did mention that one of the trees had got hung up in another tree and when it fell, it fell towards Lee and Lee had to out run it.
During all this time Lee was explaining that he thought this was some of the light stuff he had been doing to slowly get back into the swing of things on the farm, the doctor stood there gaping like a fish. Before Lee could even finish his entertaining tale of out running a falling tree, that knee doctor went slightly ballistic. He let Lee have it with both barrels. Basically, he wanted to know what was wrong with Lee, didn’t he know he had some serious surgery and he was suppose to stay quiet?!!
Now, I was there during the surgery and the first visit back to the doctor’s and he never let on how serious the surgery had been in rebuilding Lee’s knee. He was a jolly doctor who told Lee to not go back to work, take it easy, and go to physical therapy three times a week. Well, at least Lee did one of those - he went to physical therapy. And, we made sure he didn’t get out among the goats so they couldn’t run over him and bump into his knee. But, somewhere along the line, the doctor missed the part where we were farmers. He thought Lee was town folk who mainly exercised their brain, not their bodies. The most some do in physical activity is ride around on the riding lawn mower once a week.
After the doctor was through chewing Lee out good, he told him he was to stay quiet another 4 weeks and take care of that knee. Lee calmly let him finish and then asked if he could carry square bales. That went over like a lead balloon. And, is Lee being good and doing exactly what the doctor says now? Let’s just say, I’m not admitting nothing.
Anyway, here I am, back alone again with over one hundred head of goats and fortunately, they still mainly think I am harmless. That means I can usually catch and doctor them before they know what happened. I did have two teeny tiny problems though.
It was our breeding season and the nephew came out to help sort the girls and put them with the different bucks. Yes, Lee did handle the gates, but he didn’t let the goats bump him. Everyone got sorted and things were going reasonably well. Then, a few days later, I noticed one particular girl with diarrhea and this girl was a really wild doe. She was acting sick, but still fast enough that I couldn’t slip up and catch her and in this pasture there was no place to corner her. That afternoon she was looking real bad but still faster then me. By morning I probably could have caught her, but odds are it would have been because she was dead. So something had to be done and done fast.
I decided to put that whole herd in the backyard, buck and all. The goats think it’s a special treat to be allowed in the backyard, so in they happily went. I skulked around in the house, peeping out windows, keep an eye on that sick girl. Finally, I saw her decide to bed down beside the back porch. She was still flowing with diarrhea and looking even sicker, but still faster then me. I can’t help it that I am slower then a turtle that’s on antihistamines.
I hurriedly got the wormer and the medicines I wanted to use on her because I figured this would be a one time thing, and stuffed my pockets full. Peeking out the window I saw she was still beside the back porch. Without a moments hesitation, I threw the patio door open, leaped off the porch and as she stood up to take off, I snagged a hind leg with my hand and worked forward and bull dogged her down. I was determined. I had her and I wouldn’t allow her to die without trying to help cure her and stuff a lot of medicines down her.
Of course, when I did grab that hind leg, she was trying to run like demons were on her tail, she was also squirting diarrhea like crazy all up and down my arm. Now that’s twice this summer I’ve been plastered with diarrhea. Nothing like that has happened to me in over thirteen years with goats and then one summer I’m smacked twice with it. But, I did get her doctored and she was fine by evening, diarrhea gone and feeling great and also faster then ever.
A week later I noticed one of my horned does with diarrhea. She’s one of the few horned ones I have on the place. We usually take the horns off as babies, unless they come from somewhere else and it’s too late to disbud. But, this one was one of my tame ones. What a relief.
She was lying down, napping, with a pool of diarrhea behind her. I got the dewormer and decided to do my usual thing with the young does, to straddle their necks and use my legs as a squeeze chute so both hands would be free for dosing the wormer. She was so relaxed with me standing there, that she didn’t bother to get up. I thought, all right. We can do this with her lying down.
I stepped across her and used my ankles like squeeze chutes and started to dose her with wormer. She came awake suddenly and said, "What’s this?!!" And, with a lunge, stood up and in the process I felt my feet fly up above my head.
I remember looking up at my feet that was above my head while I were still in the air, thinking, "This looks ridiculous." And, my second thought was, "This is going to hurt."
But, thankfully, on the way down I landed on the doe’s back as she was making her escape. I then rolled off flat on my back on the hard ground.
Hey, I might be down, but I’m still game and saw that she had taken a dozen steps and had stopped. It seemed I had accidentally knocked the wind out of her. I caught her up in a second and wormed her and then stood and petted her, telling her she was a wonderful doe and we parted close friends.
I still can’t help but wonder how she threw me. It was an advanced Judo move for sure. I need to pay more attention to what these goats do out in the pastures out of my sight. When I find the Judo instructor, I need to sell her. But, until then, I see I have a boo-boo on my elbow from the fall and need to get a band-aid. I think I still have some of those dinosaur band-aids left. I just love those. Wished they made Boer band-aids.