Togther again: we lose Gertie

While this is a sad time, it is full of hope and possibility. A leaf falls and is eaten by worms, a father dies and his heart returns in memories and dreams, and an old goat dies and helps nourish the pumpkins. She whispers, "Go on, help someone else, you did your best with me."

Gertie has died.

I laid her to rest in the pumpkin patch next to her life time companion, Georgie, who died ten days ago. >

Gertie had fallen a couple weeks ago, and I knew her elderly days were numbered. I thought I was losing her then, but got her to rebound, and all this past two weeks, she was up and eating grass, getting around. But this past week, it was getting harder and harder for her to get up, and finally one morning, she didn't, and I found her struggling on her side. I knew it was her day to die. I've seen enough now to know it. I propped her up in a small corner she liked, and wrapped her in a horse blanket, then some hay to cover her since it was very cold. I surrounded her with two intact hay bales so she wouldn't be able to roll on her side. And then I waited. Three hours into the day, I felt it was best to euthanize her, since I knew it would be about 12 hours before she'd finally succumb to the inevitable- the rumen was unable to clear itself properly, the fluid was building up in her lungs, the heart and other organs were stressed, and eventually, she'd suffocate from fluid. It took Georgie 12 hours to die. I didn't want Gertie to go through it.

But all three of my vets, all at different clinics I use, were unavailable. I didn't want to put her through a bumpy drive into town. I checked her every hour, each time she was weakening, but still able to rally when I arrived, to make one sad, painful bleat- she was uncomfortable to say the least. By 4 pm, I simply asked the skies to take her, please, "You're going to take her anyway, let her go now." But the skies had their way.

I remembered the horse blanket I had in the barn, brand new, gifted for Giacomo, and never had the chance to use it with him. But for a 30 degree day in the barn, it was what I needed. Gertie was plenty warm from her hay and blanket, but the horse blanket kept us both warm together. I lay with her, literally, waiting, telling her stories, talking about how wonderful it was to have had her with us, and told her it would be okay soon. I was doing my best, I told her.

By 6pm, I felt her go somewhat unconscious, not responding to stimuli, but still breathing. I was freezing and went in to warm myself and have dinner. I returned around 8 pm, thinking she'd be unconscious and somewhat out of discomfort. But when Martyn and I entered the stall, she rose her head, and let out one last call, muffled in fluid. It was horrible. Foam was coming out her mouth. She was close to death, drowning. I cried, cried! "I'm so sorry! " and as she let her head fall into my one hand, I put my head to hers, and I gently covered her nostrils. She was dead in 30 seconds.

It was the hardest thing I ever did. It was the most profound thing I ever did. I felt very raw for hours, into the night. Just last week I talked to my equine vet about learning better ways to put an animal out of misery in emergency situations on the farm when a vet is unavailable. We ruled out guns. Overdoses are risky. There are few options left.

I did my best, little Gertie. She knows it. My only regret is I should have acted sooner. Even though I was with her, she suffered so much. What a soldier she was!

Oddly, a friend had come to visit the day after Georgie died two weeks ago and brought me two heart rocks for Giacomo's grave. She had no idea Georgie had died that day. So I told her I'd place one at Giacomo's and one on Georgie's grave. How prophetic it was she arrive with two heart stones instead of one, I told her. I hadn't had time to place the rocks, but when Gertie died, I realized they were met for these two little ladies, old, worn down and crippled, but very loving right to the last moments.

This morning, Old Man Guinnias switched places, and went to sleep in the corner that Gertie had died in.

Come Spring, I plan to adopt more seniors from New Moon Goat Rescuewhere Guinnias, Gertie and Georgie were from. To everyone who have sent animal crackers and donations in the past years to the Old Goats of Apifera, there will be more to come.

Good-bye, old lady

It is with shock, and sadness, that I write this post.

Georgie, one of Apifera's senior pygmy goats, died on Christmas night.

She was very old, and crippled, but just that morning I had filmed her, contently eating hay in her stall, for a holiday movie I had made for family. It's hard to believe she died later that night, for there were no signs of distress.

And it was Gertie, her compadré she was adopted with, who had fallen ill last Monday. Gertie rebounded, and we suspected an upset stomach. These two old ladies had neglected feet for years, so as they aged, their bodies became more crippled. If you take an animal that has been dwarfed, and then add a handicap of not being able to walk a lot, sooner or later, the rumen will get blocked, or the heart will be asked to do work it physically can't do anymore. We suspect that since Georgie walked very little, her body and organs just couldn't function well anymore, and perhaps her lungs had filled with fluid, and that would have also compromised her heart. There was no sign of distress that morning, no sign of pneumonia or bloat, no feed changes, no poison items about.

Oddly, when I look back on it, the day before she died, Gertie had spent a lot more time on her own away from Georgie, and even seemed to sleep away from her those last two nights. I think she knew. Animals sense death in another creature, if it is pending.

I came to the barn at 5pm Christmas night, and Georgie got up to take the handful of pellet I always gave her, but she fell, her front legs [usually her only working appendages] caved on her, and she went into a sort of a spasm. She could not stand. Within a half hour, I was able to get her to sit up, rather than lie on her side, and I massaged her sides which helped her burp. We checked her three times through the night, and all three times she was upright, looked uncomfortable, but she wasn't splayed out or thrashing. No teeth grinding. And she drank water when I brought it to her, she was not dehydrated. The only odd behavior, now sad to think about, was she kept making little bleats to me, and if I quit rubbing her head, she'd bleat again. To me it was a sign of stress or pain, but perhaps a bedside farewell to her companions. I considered bringing her into the studio where I could sleep by her all night, but I am believer that animals want to be in their familiar environs, and that large hay stall was her home, and her goat friends were there. The sounds of the sheep next door was what she knew. On my next trip to the barn, she was dead.

I believe in long weeping periods over a dead animal, if I'm so inclined. It's purging for me, and a way to show my emotional sadness at their passing. I sat with her little crippled body in my lap, and wept. Oddly, Gertie did not attend, but Old Man Guinnias did. I am so glad I spent time with her, and the others, each morning. She only had one year with us after we adopted her from New Moon Goat Rescue [where Guinnias is from too]and it was a honor to have her spend her final days here. Georgie was a sweet, sweet little goat, very kind and gentle, not bossy, not a trouble maker, just an old lady goat doin' the best to get to the feed dish.

I buried her this morning in the pumpkin patch. I saw Gertie there later today, nibbling on grass.

Old goats walking

Somewhat comical to see a group of senior pygmies on their way to bed, especially from the rear view perspective.

But what is so endearing is that each of these creatures is crippled [except Frankie, taking up the rear in this picture], yet they get up each day and fall into their simple little routine: greet me, I greet them, eat, bang heads with Frankie, eat more, find the fresh hay flake, lie in fresh hay flake and eat lying down. That's it. Their lives are contained now in one barnyard, in a consistent arrangement of events.

Morning senior group

In which we find our typical morning hay klatch. It appears Apifera mimics the outside world. The old ladies out number the old men, goat wise that is, and poor Old Guinnias always attract company of the female persuasion.

Crippled old lady speaks

Gertie, one of the three senior pygmies of Apifera, is crippled from neglected feet in her earlier days. I am pleased though that in the past year, due to consistent feet trimming, I really feel her walking is better. In fact, she runs to the barn for dinner.

Gertie is a real talker, and I can't remember exactly what she was chattering about when I took this.

Visit New Moon Farm Goat Sanctuary if you have room for a goat in your life. But remember, they live a long time, and should not be a whimsical purchase. If you want the latter, I suggest a nice new hat, or or apron .

From an old goat's perspective

Every morning I make time, even if it's just minutes, to sit with Georgie, one of our senior pygmy goats. Of the three seniors, she is the most crippled, and often spends the entire day just lying in the deluxe senior facility, or as some of you know it, The Ward Room. Georgie loves to be scratched and petted, and it's sweetly amusing to come out in the evening to find her in her suite, surrounded by hens and a lamb or two.

This is one of the many stalls of the newer barn. It was originally for horses, with high openings. When we first brought little Lucia home, one of three mini donkeys, we were afraid to leave her out in the barnyard with Pino and Paco since she was so young, so we cut out a mini window in the lower part of the stall wall. I can't tell you how adorable it was to come out each morning and find Lucia's little donkey head sticking out that window. Now all the pygmies sleep in the stall, and each morning, it is Old Man Guinnias whose head is sticking out, greeting me with his silent bleats [Guin never could bleat properly, but has a raspy call he uses to talk].

One rainy morning this week, I was in no real hurry to get back to the studio, so I sat down and watched the morning's activities from an old, crippled goat's perspective. From the mini window I could see ewes eating, and I could hear the comforting sound of chewing - in all different tones and ranges - the grinding sound of the sheep, and the chopping and nostril blowing of the horse. I heard hens clucking and discussing worm populations. The tip of a cat tail would appear out the mini window from time to time, and a young lamb would come bounding into the stall, and then look at me with, "Wait a minute, this isn't where Mama eats hay!".

Through it all, Georgie just wanted one thing, scratching. Each time I stopped, she leaned her head into my legs, pushed, until my gloved fingers scratched out the hay seed tucked into her old coat. I write often about the comfort the barn brings me- like the feeling I had as a child in my sumac fort in the bramble during a wind storm. On a rainy day, the barn is even more enchanted and powerful in its purpose, and with each rain drop on the tin roof it makes it clear how hard it works for all who seek shelter there.

I'm about to go out now and do nightly feedings. Georgie will most likely be where I left her, pushed up against the back wall, waiting for the sounds of returning ewes, of a horse whinny, and of my voice, "Good evening, Georgie, did you nap well today?"

Old goat napping

Old Guinnias likes to take naps standing up. I caught him in action yesterday morning. He started leaning a little and woke himself up.

Gertie and Georgie are just the sweetest old goats. They give me no trouble and are adjusting to their new home. I do think Georgie is far worse than Gertie when it comes to discomfort. I have been doing almost daily massages, and have found watery spots on both, and I work those areas gently. They seem to really like it, although Georgie is definitely tender in the hips. She basically sits most of the day and doesn't seem to be able to stand longer than a few minutes. Gertie is doing more exploring on her own, but they definitely like to be together, or in bleating difference.

You can sponsor the three old goats of Apifera at this link. You'll receive one of my Old Goat prints in return.

Naked-donkey-old-goat-therapy

The beauty is, I can do what I want, and you, my beloved readers, can believe what you want...

After the creepy energy of yesterday's post, I went out to barn this morning and spent time with the donkeys. I told them their ears and body parts had been briefly pirated, but that all was ok, and we are safe again, at least in the barn, out of sight of any web cams, iphones or apps that might tweet us.

So I took my coat off, and my clothes, and rolled in the dust. I left my boots on, well, just because. It felt really good.

I had donkey hugs while still naked. Now don't be getting all freaked out or starting rumors- but the fuzzie winter coats feel really good on naked skin. It's the beauty of a barn, one can do all sorts of things in it without being egged, or hauled off to jail.

I proceeded onto the newer barn, fully clothed. And hung out with Georgie, Guinnias and Gertie, the senior three. Frankie was busy being Frankie - head butting the ram, positioning herself at the hay bar. But the three old timers amused me. They love to have body rub downs. Man, if I could just explain to them how to do that to me, now there's a viral Youtube waiting to happen.

So, this image amuses me. It will be the print goat sponsors get [really, I am going to send them to all of you who have sponsored, once I get my darn inks loaded again]...I just wanted to share it with you to make you smile.

I'm off to take a shower now.

Gertie and Georgie are adapting well to Apifera and their new senior facility [also in resideance isOld Guinnias. These two ladies are real talkers, and enjoy hobbling out to the sun, where they usually lay down to eat. It is very hard for them to stand more than about 1 minute due to joint deformities casues by improper fot care.

I created this teeny little film to show the consequences of not taking care of a goat's feet. We adopted Georgie and Gertie this past month from New Moon Farm and Goat Rescue in Washington. This is the same wonderful place where we adopted our first senior rescue goat, Old Guinnias. These two senior ladies came from owners that neglected their feet and didn't trim them. This caused them too walk improperly which over time caused crippling effects. I am giving them daily massages and hope to see if an animal therapist might give me tips on getting Gertie to bend her front leg over time.

This is not uncommon. Sadly, many equines, sheep and goats are left in fields or wet barnyards without foot care. These creatures need their feet trimmed on a regular basis. We trim the sheep 2-3 times a year due to our rocky terrain. Our horse is trimmed by a farrier every 2 months. The donkeys are trimmed 3-4 times a year, and I am learning to d that.

If you see an animal with long curled toes, try to get it help, or call your vet to see if they can intervene. And if you plan on buying any animal, remember it is a commitment. It's heartbreaking to see so many 4H projects turn into rescue cases. Goats can live well past 15. Donkeys from 20-30 years, and horses often live past 20. You don't toss Granny away.

Old ladies land

"Why's everyone looking at us?"



"That old gent looks like a keeper..."

"Hmmm, possibly. But the other one looks a little pushy."


The old girls are home. I loaded the two-foot 84 year old girl into the truck, with the Dirt Farmer, and we headed to Milepost 140 on Hwy 5 to meet up with Ellen for the big goat hand off. As we drove into the busy rest stop to seek out Ellen's white car, there were two hobbling old goats [not Ellen, the goats], so we found them immediately.

I am so pleased we took these two in, and also so glad Ellen was able to take them in 6 months ago from the former owners. Obviously, their care had fallen off. A little arthritis is to be expected in a senior goat, especially a Pygmy, but these two are very crippled from lack of foot care. It's tragic. Ellen did her best to help their feet and we will continue, along with the compound to alleviate some of the arthritis.

But when I saw them hobble, I mean hobble, my heart hurt. The 3 hour trip back [which would have been 2 hours longer if Ellen hadn't so generously met us at the rest stop]

"Hey, Frankie, they sort of look like us."


was hard on the old ladies [all three], but we made it. We took the goats out of the truck and they immediately sought out the warm sun. Hobbled over to a perfect spot, and lay down.

I will take a movie of them soon. For now, they are acclimating, and I must say, their personalities are sweet as pie. They have been together their entire lives, are 10 and 14, so when one moves, the other one moves. They came with the names Pepper and Muffin, but we took a barnyard vote and agreed they will go through the Transformation Ceremony this week to accept their new names of Georgie and Aunt Gertie. Much like a woman leaving her husband, an old goat often requires a fresh name change after starting a new journey.

Old goat landing

"Why's everyone looking at us?"



"That old gent looks like a keeper..."

"Hmmm, possibly. But the other one looks a little pushy."


The old girls are home. I loaded the two-foot 84 year old girl into the truck, with the Dirt Farmer, and we headed to Milepost 140 on Hwy 5 to meet up with Ellen for the big goat hand off. As we drove into the busy rest stop to seek out Ellen's white car, there were two hobbling old goats [not Ellen, the goats], so we found them immediately.

I am so pleased we took these two in, and also so glad Ellen was able to take them in 6 months ago from the former owners. Obviously, their care had fallen off. A little arthritis is to be expected in a senior goat, especially a Pygmy, but these two are very crippled from lack of foot care. It's tragic. Ellen did her best to help their feet and we will continue, along with the compound to alleviate some of the arthritis.

But when I saw them hobble, I mean hobble, my heart hurt. The 3 hour trip back [which would have been 2 hours longer if Ellen hadn't so generously met us at the rest stop]

"Hey, Frankie, they sort of look like us."


was hard on the old ladies [all three], but we made it. We took the goats out of the truck and they immediately sought out the warm sun. Hobbled over to a perfect spot, and lay down.

I will take a movie of them soon. For now, they are acclimating, and I must say, their personalities are sweet as pie. They have been together their entire lives, are 10 and 14, so when one moves, the other one moves. They came with the names Pepper and Muffin, but we took a barnyard vote and agreed they will go through the Transformation Ceremony this week to accept their new names of Georgie and Aunt Gertie. Much like a woman leaving her husband, an old goat often requires a fresh name change after starting a new journey.

Old goat sponsorships

If you can't keep a senior rescue goat on your balcony, you can sponsor Guinnias and his two new lady friends here at Apifera. Here is the breakdown of what it costs to care for three senior pygmy goats each month. Note that we do not consider Frankie part of this sponsorship and she is paid for like all our other animals, out of our own pockets.

Grain mixture at 1/2 pound per goat a day [more if thin] $10; 2 bales of hay for $8; pine shavings/pellets for clean, dry stall $10; mineral and arthritis supplements $5; wormer and shots given 2x a year $2.

Sponsor/gift levels can be found here >

Old goat collaborations

Remember a few days ago when I put out a plea for the lovely elderly goat ladies from New Moon Farm Goat Rescue needing a home? Well, someone came through!
Her name is Katherine Dunn...um, oh, that would be me!

Quit laughing. I suppose some of you just rolled your eyes and thought, "How long is it going to take her to pull a Lucy Ricardo on the Dirt Farmer and get
those old goats in the barn?"...Ellen at New Moon is so happy, and that alone makes me happy. I feel like I'm really making a difference, and she and I both know how hard it is to place senior animals. And she has so many to care for, and more arrive all the time.

I was torn at first, as bringing new creatures on creates a dynamic shift. But with each of our shifts, new and wonderful things have come into our lives. Still, I decided this was not just my decision, I need to get the blessing of the head man...Guinnias. Why bother the house-head-man with this decision. Besides, in my Lucy Ricardo head, I figured the Dirt Farmer might not even notice the extra dwarf creatures lying about, especially since one looks a bit like Frankie.

"Guinnias, really, what do you think?"
"Will I still get animal crackers in the morning?"
"Absolutely."
"What about my daily back rub?"
"Of course, one a day at least."
"Where are these ladies going to sleep?"
"With you, Guinnias! What elderly gentleman at any care facility wouldn't welcome one, but two fine ladies into his boudoir?"
"Hmmmm....Are they wormed properly?"
"Yes, all wormed."
" Well...I guess it might be okay..."
"I know it will, Guinnias," I said as I started his daily back rub.
Just then, Frankie busted in.
"Hey, for the record, I'm not giving up one drop of food for these old girls." and she scurry-waddled back to the hay area.
"Heavens, " said Guinnias, "So self absorbed..."

Stay tuned....I will be posting soon about $10 and $30 Goat Sponsorships, giving a line item of what it costs to care for these little senior creatures. Sponsors will receive an Apifera gift, which I'll explain then.