Nearing the end of another soggy day as I went through the evening feeding routine I realized having been distracted by a couple of calls I’d skipped one group of goats. Making a second round I continued on to where the dogs were frolicking. It was time to put up the puppy in her night quarters. It was then that I saw what looked like one of the goats pinning another to the ground which is very unusual.
Rushing over I realize the one standing had her horns caught in the other’s collar. Panic set in as I raced around the electrified paddock to turn off the power which of course was on the opposite side. Reaching the girls, Copra freaked out when I tried to remove the collar from her horns. She did a complete roll and ended up on her feet again causing the collar to get even tighter around Spot (or Imbuti her SiSwati name) who is lying listless on the ground. Her eyes are wide open not blinking, there is bloody foam coming from her open mouth as her tongue hangs out the side. I can’t tell if she’s breathing or not, but it doesn’t look like it. With the adrenaline rushing I was able flip her back to her original position.
Of course I’m praying the whole time as I tried to figure out how to get back to the cart for something sharp to cut the collar. Speaking of the collar, I use cheap collars with plastic buckles that will fail if put under stress. Why hadn’t it popped? I couldn’t even feel the buckle or get my finger under the collar. All of a sudden I remember the knife I clipped to my jacket pocket a few weeks earlier (don’t ask me why, it’s been hooked there never having been used). This had to go perfectly so I wouldn’t cut Spot’s throat since the cut had to be made toward her. The cut is precise, Copra pulls away with the collar still hanging from her head and horns.
Spot isn’t breathing, I’m pumping on her chest, rubbing on her, hollering at her trying anything to stimulate her, there’s no response. I use my finger to wipe the bloody foam from her mouth so I can try CPR. I notice there’s blood coming from her nose too. Just then I think I feel her tongue move, there it is again, a slight movement. I’m pumping on her chest again & rubbing her and then I hear just the slightest raspy breath and then another one. She’s breathing!
As I assessed the situation I realized having been laid out on her side she’s now bloated. Laying on their side is not usually a good thing for a goat & especially after having just eaten. I try to lift her rear end to get her standing, I kind of lift it up, but can’t keep that end up while trying to lift the front end. Of course my phone was in the cart so I couldn’t call for help. Getting her propped up in a prone position as best I could I made a dash for the phone. Dialing Stu I turned back & there she is standing on her own. Yay!
With his help I was able to relieve her bloat and go check on Copra who’s having nothing to do with me, acting her usual least friendly goat of the herd self. Stu goes to get items I need to help Spot and while I’m bent over listening to her gut sounds I hear something. Copra the instigator in this whole situation is standing at Spot’s head nuzzling her ears and goat talking to her. She is trying to get her moving and being encouraging to her. Wow, we people could take a lesson from that.
A little over an hour after this traumatic event began Spot is looking around for something to eat and walking a little bit. I gave her pine branches one of their favorites and she began to nibble at them. It was getting dark and knowing I’d stay out for a while more to be sure things were ok I asked Stu grab my headlamp and bring me a glass of wine. I sure needed a little relaxing by then.
Standing out in the dark surrounded by the herd that had now gathered together checking on Spot I put on the Worship music I had been trying to listen to for most of the day. But, now it’s on a whole different level as I express my thanks to my Good Shepherd as I seek to be their good shepherd. There was something special in that moment, it was a Holy experience far beyond what words can explain.