So, what did you do on your Mother’s Day? Any notable mentions?
I bet you I beat you in the excitement category.
After a lovely day at my mom’s, filled with ribs, salad, corn on the cob and strawberry shortcake, the fam headed back to the farm. I’ve been putting off giving the baby goats their first vaccine.; I don’t like giving shots, especially to those cuties. But it had to be done.
So, Renaissance Man and I headed up to the barn to do the deed. I didn’t do too bad on the first three, but that last one, Barry the Adorable, did me in. He squirmed left when I went right. Then, I poked him clear through the skin, only to push the entire vaccine onto Renaissance Man’s jeans. Ugh. Now I had to do it all over again.
With hands shaking (I told you, I don’t like poking the cuties), I made my way back up to the house to find another…dah, dah, dah…needle. Sigh. Back to poking Adorable. This time I only spurted a tiny bit onto R Man’s leg. You’re suppose to get better at this as you go, aren’t you?
With the success of vaccines under our belts, Renaissance Man declared he was ready to do the baby boy castrations. Baby boy goats, that is. Just wanted to make that clear. We did not castrate any human baby boys. Our children were safe. Honest. Hee. Hee.
Armed with his Banding Gun (okay, it was not really a gun, but it sounds impressive), R Man placed a small rubber band over the boy parts as I held the poor fellows in position. I was relieved that they didn’t cry. At first. Barry the Adorable just laid his sweet self down. Albeit completely on his side as if he’d been shot. But Gary the Weanie, let out some cute little bleats. Poor guy. They both walked pretty funny at first. But you know, who wouldn’t?
We used the “Elastrator” because well, that’s what we saw demonstrated at the Goat Conference, and just about every goat raiser we know uses one. We’ve heard about the “Emasculator”. Yes, it’s actually called this. I just can’t get myself to buy it. It just seems wrong. And don’t worry. I’ll save you the embarrassment of explaining what it does. I just won’t talk about it. Unless you want to talk about it. Well, then that’s a different story.
So, see. You had a nice laid back, mellow Mother’s Day compared to mine. I hope you enjoyed it.