When it rains, it pours. Then it turns into mud. Then you loose your boots.
Or, in other words, we're not out of the woods with Maisy yet. Her fever returned along with a worse cough and runny nose. The vet - who was out of the country - arranged for us to get another percription antibiotic (versus the over the counter one we tried last week) and some Banamine (which is more or less bovine advil).
We wrangled her into our newly discovered head catch, Josh managed to get the shot in (it can cause abortions in cattle so I wasn't allowed anywhere near the business end of that needle!). It must have hurt like the dickens as she yanked her head out of the catch, backed out and walked around the paddock streching her neck and slobbering. I wanted to cry. Or hug her. But she wanted NOTHING to do with me! Her temp was down at that night's milking but spiked again this morning. I could tell she was "off" (that's the technical term, ahem) by how hot she was to the touch and how alternately bratty and then docile she was at milking.
Que the Banamine (we have to keep the fever down while we wait for the meds to work). We tried to run her into the catch again, but oh no! She knows what happens there-and no thank you, crazy farmer lady.
Chased her around the pasture (imagine us, in PJs, barn boots, bed hair chasing a cow. Go ahead, laugh. You're welcome). Finally got her back into the milk stand tied her up 2 different ways and Josh got the medicine in her. It seemed to bother her but nothing like yesterdays shot. She's back in the pasture eating and walking around and generally not liking me from a distance.
So, normal, for the moment.
There's the update from the farm. I'll spare you the parts where the new steer calf is having issues at his castration site (ick!) and the irrigation pipe that burst in the middle of my garden. That's fodder for a whole slew of other posts.
I will leave you with this however: (Because baby goats make everything better. True story.)
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