Thin thin line between Life……and Death

Just to let you know. I never do tell you about my aggravating day, just my heart wrenching night.

Ironic, but today, I’m blogging about the blog. I changed the theme because I was having problems with the last one. It just wouldn’t let me put the translations at the top of the page and that bothered me. How is a non English speaking person supposed to read the words….Translations are available further down this page? So, I shopped around and found this theme but it ate my translation code and my flag counter…bummer. Took me hours to fix it, but I have the translations back up. And now they are seen right off, yay. See, it wasn’t vanity, or the need for a prettier background, it was so this can be read, by whoever wants to read it.

Today, before I tell you about my aggravating day, I want to show you my coat. When I was a child, my mother taught me a crochet stitch. Through the years, I learned 2 more. When I got my goats, I was a naive baby in the fiber world. Before I learned what I was “supposed” to do, and “how” to do things, I just winged it. They came out great! I can’t follow patterns, my brain hates that kind of thing, so my neighbor walked me through the first part of a sweater pattern. The collar down to the armpits. After that, I just did what I wanted to do. I did not make the item in the pattern. I used a mother and daughter combo and that was the one and only time I carded. YUK and boy is that hard on my arms. So, around 4 months later, this is the result of my play.

I was recently asked for the pattern. When I told her that most of it was designed by me, she asked how much money to make another. I could never make another identical, because I made it as I went. I could however make one similar, but due to the extent of work required before I even begin crocheting, I told her around $2000. I figured she would gasp and run. Nope, she wanted to know how much that was in Australian dollars. Well, I haven’t heard back from her but just the idea that someone might pay that much for something I made, is staggering. The sweater, as you can see, became a coat. My coat. My coat weighs 4 pounds and it is ever so soft and warm. I feel like royalty when I wear it.

My Fur Coat

Which brings me to the topic of mohair and fur coats. To wear a fur coat, first the animal has to be stalked or trapped, killed (who knows how humanely), and then skinned. To wear a mohair coat, first the animal has to be caught, put on a stand, given hay to eat and then sheared. No pain. That’s it. The same goes for alpaca, llama, angora(rabbit) and wool. No animal dies to create the coat. I wish you could feel the softness through the internet. And that reminds me. Animals have fur, people have hair, and goats have fiber? Whoever thunk that one up ought to have their cookies taken away. It is their fur. Their curly soft ringlet fur. If people thought of it like this, they might not need to kill, in order to wear softness.

I try to post at 8:00 every night.

As I type this, my Cherub is laying on the floor on a towel, struggling to live. It’s been a very long day. I noticed that her stretch was different today. It was a hunch type thing, turning herself into an upside down U shape. I called the local expert and she said it was fine, that a hunch stretch was a good stretch. I didn’t give it any more thought. Feeding time came, at 5, and I see an aura or look of concern on Yoki’s face. I look at the baby and she looks dead. See, I told ya the mom might not have enough milk, but she was doing the stretches fine. Till today. Maybe the stretches aren’t all they’re cracked up to be. Just like the eyelid thing but I won’t go there now. I run in and stand her up. Splat, three times. I said, Yoki, I’m sorry honey but your baby is sick and I have to take her. I’ll bring her back when she’s better. I put her in the playpen which I never took down from Lovey, knowing we may have need. Gave her nutridrench for strength then a bottle of electrolytes, which she drank quickly. Asked for 44 Legions of Angels to come. Back in the playpen. She stood up and I thought she had turned the corner, so I went to finish dinner.

Soon after my husband came home, she went the other way. She stayed with me after that, not in the playpen. She shivered uncontrollably so I put her under my shirt for my body heat. Lordie, the wheezing and the cries. Not the normal baby goat cry, but a pitiful thing. Constantly. I had asked for prayer on face book. Then she locked her head in death mode. I even took off the little coat I had on her so she could die as a goat. Just wearing her fleece. All this time, tears rushed out, dropping on her and getting her wet. Finally, it seemed as if she was in so much pain, that I asked…if you’re not gonna let her stay, then end it now. I told her she’d see Kya and Koko, Duchesse, Lulu and Bella. I told her to go.

Cherub, as she lay dying

Next thing I know, she’s sucking, in the air. Then she turns her no longer frozen head and sucks on my sleeve. I threw her in Andy’s lap and ran to make a bottle. She ate. Then she shivered again and back under my shirt she went. The heating pad took forever to heat up. Then the wheezing and rattling started again, as well as the cries. It was happening all over again. How does a person keep pouring out tears when they never drink water? The yoyo effect has had it’s wear on me. Then, she sucked the air again. More bottle. More cries, but the cries are louder now. So I laid her on the floor on the towel at my feet. And she had a bowel movement of tiny berries and urinated as well. She sleeps, wakes, cries, sleeps, wakes cries. She’s crying now. I don’t know what to make of it all, but at the moment she is alive. She appears a bit stronger, but I thought that many times tonight.

If she had died, or if she does die, I won’t be getting a coat, fleece to remember her by. Some people have their goats skinned so they can have the hides and curls. I cannot. I can only hold out hope that one day soon, I will be making another coat, using the beautiful soft curls of my Cherub. Signing off at Curly Locks Ranch…Oops, I have a P.S. She took more bottle and this is her picture as of 10:55pm.

My Cherub


9 thoughts on “Thin thin line between Life……and Death

  1. I am sending Love, Light and Healing to your sweet one – been there more times then I want to count. I know you are doing all you can but this is the part that sucks big time.

    Love your coat..

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