How did she possibly know? This goat. How did she know that, of all the times she could have picked to have her babies, the 6 hour window of time Saturday evening would be the absolute worst choice?
I suppose goats are just gifted that way.
Sure enough, as I was making my way to the car to leave for the airport - stopping in one last time to check on the goats - there she was, hunched over and looking very...focused. Not yet in active labor but definitely looking at whatever rock or piece of straw she had chosen as her focal point and gathering her energy.
I coaxed her into the birthing room...er, kidding pen...and went to consult Marc, who was getting ready to leave for work. After reviewing our options - none of which included either of us actually being able to stay with the expectant mother - we decided we would put a call in to Marc's brother, Frank, and his very capable wife, Cathy, and ask them to periodically check in on her until I returned from the airport. They are seasoned goat farmers as well so we knew we were leaving her in good hands.
But still, one worries. Mainly because one does not like to abuse the good nature of one's family members by asking them to put their hands into a goat's nether region to extract a baby should a problem arise.
As luck would have it, the situation did not necessitate any invasive maneuvers, and Ginger delivered two adorable little buck kids without at problem. Considering she is a first-time mom, she did an amazing job getting her two little charges cleaned up, on their feet and acquainted with the dairy bar.
Everything was over about 45 minutes before I returned home, leaving me only the task of setting up a heat lamp to keep the little ones warm during the cool night. Frank and Cathy did an amazing job as pinch-hitter midwives. We are truly lucky to have such skilled and un-squeamish neighbors.
And so, we are proud to present, Lone Pine Farm Chestnut and Lone Pine Farm Filbert.