The Frailty of Life

 

Cocoa has never been a beautiful goat in my opinion, but she certainly has been one of my favorites.  She has a personality like no other:  not afraid of you, not needy of you, not even concerned what you might be offering.  She lived her life satisfied.  These last few years, you could usually find her head to the core of a huge round bale, totally content to eat and ruminate. 

We bought Cocoa in 2017 with her half-sister, Mocha.  They had been pets.  We got them for a bargain price and I knew good goats when I saw them - at least genetics and herd names. As I mentioned, Cocoa wasn't a beautiful goat and she became known as my "wonky goat" because she had an injury to her neck that prevented proper neck movement and posture.  She has always been more of a "dairy" animal than an animal known for better conformation like her sister.  

I was surprised to learn that she was pregnant last month when an ultrasound was done.  Multiples at that!  I was excited.  I wanted more babies out of her.  Her daughter, Mandy, was a beautiful doe and I looked forward to breeding her this fall.  Mandy fell ill and ended up dying.  

The other day, my Cocoa fell ill.  I couldn't put my finger on what looked odd at first, but the second time I visited her I realized her eyes were sunken in.  I looked it up and asked around and it seemed the consensus was dehydration.  But something didn't fit.  I couldn't reverse anything. 

Next day, I managed to get her to down electrolytes and she ate so much all day!  I was optimistic that she would turn around and get better. I could feel her babies jumping around, she was eating, standing, and seemed to be drinking.  She was more vocal than she was earlier in the morning.  

She went to sleep last night, belly full and ruminating.  

This morning, my girl was not able to stand up.  We carried her out of her dome into the sunshine.  She wouldn't eat, wouldn't drink, moaned and cried.  We lifted her to her feet and held her up.  She was only able to stand on her own four feet for a minute before I noticed her collapsing to the ground.  I couldn't feel any movement in her belly no matter how much I thumped or manipulated.  The babies "appear" to be dead.  Cocoa appears to be at her end. 

My thought is leaning toward pregnancy toxemia. She has been treated accordingly for well over a day.  I will never know for sure because we just do not have the money for the extensive blood work that is needed to pinpoint the cause.  We have a rule that the medical care can not exceed the cost of the animal.  It is a wise rule, but a difficult rule to live by. 

I was hesitant to take a photo of her sitting out in the sunlight.  I don't want to remember my girl at her weakest and quite frankly, her ugliest.  But I wanted to capture her frailty - the frailty of animals in general.  

These animals are domesticated.  In the wild, she would have been dead already.  Let's face it, most of our animals would be!  With all the intervention and protection, medicines, vitamins, minerals, and feed, these animals have their lives prolonged.  And in all seriousness - they are our animals and we should do the best we can.  

The best I can do isn't the same as the best someone else can do.  You may not have the same rule I have "to not have the medical care exceed the value of the animal", and that may a be far more willing expense paid out if you have animals worth far more than we do.  What is the same is the love we have for our animals.  We do the best we can to care for them and give them what they need within our means. Why do we think we can do any more than that?

I cried this morning when I realized that Cocoa was seeing her last day.  I want to quit after so many losses this last year.  I lost a handful of newborn kids, Orinoco, Java, Anne girl, Galveston, Woodstock, Grady, Jazz, Mandy, and now Cocoa will be next.  Her body telling me she just can't any longer.  

My heart screaming I just can't do this again.  

Another hole dug... 

another goat euthanized...

and another mound to remind us just how frail life really is.