Life and Death on The Farm

One of the first things you need to think about when deciding to raise livestock is how you feel about death. What I mean is that you WILL experience death in some capacity, whether it is from animals simply growing old, getting sick at some point, or dying at your hands for food.

I had been stressing out about Nutella, our oldest doe, all week long. Her due date was a week before and I had started to second guess myself about whether I accurately wrote down her breeding date or not. I get inside my head and create these stories. I’m telling myself, “She’s too old to go more than a few days past her due date. Something is wrong. I’ll end up having to call a vet and have an emergency c-section, which will result in her AND the kids dying. This is my fault. I should have allowed her to retire.” Spiraling, to say the least.

Thankfully, the day started off with signs that Nutella was in fact going to have her kids, and soon! She quickly entered the licking phase of labour and by 11am, she was pushing her kids out. Two does and a buck! All on her own. No assistance needed. A perfect last delivery for my herd queen. Stress for nothing.

Feeling very good about how things were going, I took a little break. When I returned to the kidding barn to check on how everything was going, I found something awful. One of Midge’s little girls, who had been born a few days prior, was laying on her side, mouth open, dazed. I hoped it was one of those naps that goats sometimes take that take your breath away but when I touched her, I knew it was not. She was dying.

She called out, her body mostly limp. Something was very wrong. Panicking, I called Scott to drop what he was doing and come help me. Get the thermometer, what is going on? What do I do? I called my mentor to hopefully have a miracle answer. Floppy Kid Syndrome, she thinks. But there’s an easy solution! A bit of baking soda diluted in water. It will pull her out of it quickly! I knew we did not have much time so we ran to the house and made the remedy.

I think I knew it was too late to do anything when I first found her laying there, but we had to try, and I try to always be optimistic. It’s an awful place to be at when you suspect that putting an animal out quickly is the better course of action, but what if there is a way to make things better? To give them a full and happy life? What If you put them down and there was something you could have done?

Sadly, this little girl passed quickly in my arms while I cried. Not more than 5 minutes after we found her, she was gone. 3 days old. Dead.

I am broken. We have never lost a kid. In seven years, we have NEVER lost a kid.

They say that 5-10% mortality from birth to weaning is a normal range. I suppose this would put us at somewhere around half of a percent. I know that I shouldn’t be surprised that this happened. It was bound to happen. And worst things will happen than this. They have to. That’s how the universe keeps its balance. That’s part of farming.

I feel responsible. I’m not sure what I could have done because I’m not sure what it actually was. Was it floppy kid syndrome? I don’t think that would have brought her down so far in just 2 hours. She had good eye color. She had healthy milk poops. She was up and bounding just a couple of hours before. I could have done a necropsy to maybe find an answer, but it didn’t feel right. Poor Midge. She doesn’t seem disturbed in the least. She has 2 other kids keeping her busy. Does she even know? Does she care?

I cried on and off during the day. Just before the sunset, we walked down the hill and buried her. I’m not sure if Oakland understood. I told him that she had gotten sick but she wasn’t ok. He gave her some gentle pets, a hug and a kiss. He helped us fill in her tiny grave and say goodbye. Maybe it isn’t normal for a 2 year old to learn about death. But on this farm, it is part of our life. Death is part of every life. And it is important to respect death so that we can appreciate life for all that it is. The sad parts in life make the happy parts that much happier.

So why am I writing this? I’m not sure. Maybe to make myself feel better. Honestly, at this moment, I don’t feel better. I feel awful. I feel like I let that little baby down. I wish I knew what happened to her, so I could do everything in my power to prevent it from happening again. I suppose I do feel thankful that we have managed to go 7 years without the loss of a kid. And I am thankful that Midge has 2 other kids. And I am thankful that I have such an incredible following of supportive people sending messages. That uplifts me. I’m not alone. And hopefully, we go at least another 7 years before we have to feel this again.

Tomorrow is a new day, with new possibilities, and maybe even new babies. All I can do is look ahead and keep doing whatever I can to make sure my animals are happy and well.