Saturday, May 20, 2017

Gold Nugget- November 2016



I thought I found the perfect future Billy of our herd.  He was from good milking lines, cream colored with blue eyes and naturally polled!  Great qualities to pass on to off-spring.

Sadly this little buck would not live long enough to pass on anything but heart-break.  His name was Gold-Nugget.  When I picked him up from his breeder, he seemed very tired and lethargic.  I thought it was cute how he snuggled up on my lap, although he smelled awful of full grown buck!  He was in with the adult bucks, and I'm sure that's where the smell was coming from. 

I should have known better then to buy a limp kid.  I thought he acted sick, and I was right.  He was sick.  He didn't make a sound the whole trip home, which started to concern me.  Shouldn't he cry for his herd?   Things only got worse from there.  He never played, like little kids do, and he would just lie in the hay and nibble here an there on hay and I don't think I ever saw him with his tail up.  Not even once.

The weather was getting colder, and one morning I found him nearly life-less in the barn.  I quickly took him inside and he lived for a few days in a pack-n-play in our living room.  I thought he was improving when he jumped out one day and made a puddle on my carpet so I let him return to the herd.  Yet once outside, he crashed again in the hay. 

We went to buy him a thick coat to ward off the chilly weather.  It was in the 40's and he was only outside for the afternoon while we went to buy the coat.  When we returned, he was nearly gone.

Now I had tried everything I could think of to save this little guy!  I bought all the recommended medicines and vitamins and had tried everything that was suggested to help him ever since I brought him home.  Yet as I saw him struggling in the hay, I knew he was dying.   But I could not let him go without knowing why.  Quickly we rushed to the vet.  He was looked at immediately, but the vet shook his head saying he couldn't be saved.  Tests were preformed anyway.  He was free of parasites and was not dehydrated.  However he had the worse heart-murmur the vet had ever heard.  His best guess was that the little guy was born with a heart condition that would have manifested itself eventually, but the stress of moving him from his familiar home brought it on even faster.  Poor Gold Nugget never came back home.  He died at the vet's office a little while later.  We only owned him for a short 2 weeks.





Gold Nugget's death shook our household.  For he had been bought as a means to heal from the very recent loss of my Grandfather.   My girls and I had just got back from attending my grandfather's funeral when we picked him up.  What could be better to heal a heartbreak than a sweet baby goat?  So to see him suffer and go downhill for two weeks, and then to have him die, well it was hard.  It was hard on me and my girls. 

My oldest held him as we drove to the vet.  She said a prayer that he could miraculously be saved.  To walk away from him and that hope was crushing.  And it really brought all the emotions of the past month up to the surface to flow over in tears and grief.  I cried more over this little buck than I did at my dear grandfather's funeral simply because I was overwhelmed with both their loss. 

The breeder Pat, was sympathetic and offered to give us another little buck.  I thought that was kind and honest of her.  She didn't have any currently available but we held out hope that she would have another blue eyed or polled little buck in the early Spring.  Here are some sweet pictures of Gold Nugget and my girls during his short stay here.




Songs From the Heart 
Poem:  Hearts Cannot be Forced

He died.
Young but never.
A hope I had for bright tomorrows, now lay in the ground.
And it is so very cold.

Walking out without a word today.
Not a glance my way.
He didn't see the tears.
Didn't take the risk.

How warm is sorrow
sliding down a cool cheek.

Desperately looking up cures online.
Save the goat
Save face
Save some love
Save the day for my children.

Warning them that prayers are not magic.
Leaving empty handed.
Crying for the miracle that wasn't for us.
Wasn't for them.

Wanting to run away with the dying.
To make it stand up
Make it play and bounce and bleat.
Make it be ok.
Force the heart to stop breaking apart its chances.
Force the heart.

Hearts that wont, and cannot be forced.

 



No comments:

Post a Comment