No photo this time.
Holly, one of our Gulf Coast twin ewes, is very pregnant with (at least) twins. She seemed to be going in to labor last weekend. Separated herself from the flock. Acted very weird. A little mucus popped out. A little bit of panting. A push or two. But, she wasn’t bagged up, and she had no milk. Ok…preemies…we could handle it…my friend raises dairy goats and they’re kidding right now…could probably score some colostrum. But, she did not progress. Just got more and more addled and shaky. Wouldn’t stay in a jug we made for her in the garden (her chosen “I vant to be alone” locale.) We got 4 inches of rain, and she insisted on standing out in it.
The vet came on Monday. We plopped her, Holly, not the vet, into a wheelbarrow and took her to the little hay barn. She seems to have toxemia. But…we couldn’t get her to pee to see where she was in the land of ketosis. So. I’ve been living in the barn. Filling her cheek with a nasty brew called Power Punch…and no, it doesn’t taste fruity…it looks like a cross between betadine and molasses…and smells about the same…and if Holly’s reaction is any indicator…it tastes uggggly. So, she’s been getting that, alternated with propylene glycol, and interspersed with yogurt. She likes the yogurt, but not the syringe. Who would like that.
She went for a day without drinking. I almost had a nervous breakdown. Yesterday afternoon, she stuck her head in the water bucket for over 10 minutes. What did that mean? It meant her brain was turning back on. She pooped. And pooped. And pooped. And as soon as I went in the house to use the loo, she peed. I couldn’t catch a drop of that pee. Not to save my life. This morning, I camped out beside her in my folding chair, with a Ken Bruen novel, a syringe of yogurt at the ready, and some apple slices for her. Which she gave to the resident mouse, I swear. And at 1:30, I swiped a ketostik into that stream, oh yes I did.
I’m waiting for the vet to call back. Holly is right in the middle of the scale. I don’t know what that means. I was told, if it’s the darkest, inject her immediately with the inducing agents. So, I’m waiting. And hoping she improves. If I am told to shoot her up, I will have a problem with that. She seems awfully wobbly still, and I would think, to deliver twins or triplets, she needs some vim and vigor.
This is all quite terrifying. I hate it. I don’t know what to do. I feel like a stupid idiot. Etc.
On the other hand…Sally, Holly’s twin, is bagged up, looks ready to burst…as in twice as big as Holly…and she’s running around like a lamb…hopping…kickin up her heels, baabaabaaaing, have a swell time.
Please, phone, would you please ring?