I was about ready to turn in for the night when I remembered one of the babies I separated from the herd for weaning had escaped into the calf field and was probably scared spitless and alone in the dark at the far end of the pasture.
This one never was a bottle baby so wasn't going to come running when I called. It was going to be a stealth mission, creeping up on him in the dark and grabbing him before he could run. Picture this: I am stealthily tiptoing across a pasture in the pitch dark, caver's headlamp strapped to my forehead and turned to red light because goats can't see in dim light, trying to bleat like a goat so he will let me get closer.
Then I hear KA-lump-KA-lump-KA-lump behind me. Lilybell the 350 pound cow has decided to come help. "Lilybell!" I hiss. "We're in stealth mode!"
I creep forward and Lilybell waits for me to get six feet ahead, then KAlumpKalumpKalump...she gallops forward and butts me in the ass with her massive forehead.
Cursing under my breath, I cover the last 50 feet in herky jerky motion, step step step step BAM. Step step step step BAM. Finally I am almost within reach of the goatling and drop down to my hands and knees to sneak in for the grab.
That's when Lilybell gets impatient and charges right past me, the goat leaps for freedom, I snap the headlight on full glare, see the goat running past and DIVE!, snagging one back hoof. Then it's the long trek back to the barn carrying a 30 pound, struggling and yelling goatbaby.
Good thing the asthma meds finally kicked in.
May 11, 2013