[Ag-eq] Introducing the BlanchRanch Bulletin

Wed Apr 17 22:31:49 UTC 2013

I mistakenly sent the below to one of the list members, when, in fact, it was supposed to go to the 
entire list.
It is fairly long, but some of you:  all of you I would like to think, may find it interesting, if 
not, entirely, enjoyable this time around.

       Jewel

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From: "Jewel" <jewelblanch at kinect.co.nz>
Sent: Wednesday, April 17, 2013 6:27 PM
To: <nfoster at extremezone.com>
Subject: Introducing the BlanchRanch Bulletin

The BlanchRanch Bulletin is a little something that I write from time to time, but I don't think
that I have anything of recent origin, but, if you will excuse me for a mo I will trot off and see
what I have.
Miss me!  Of course you did!!
Now this one is very old nearly 6 !!years, but the date, really, is irrelevant.

Bulletin for July/August 2008.

The month began, tragically, with the premature death of my best friend which,
in my view, was due to nothing short of medical incompetence and just
downright neglect of symptoms that shouted the seriousness of the problem
to everyone but the, so-called, professionals. My two does, Rosy and
Sophie were due to kid somewhere around the end of the month, but as Pan
is with them all the year around, the exact date of kidding could not be
 ascertained. On July 20th,I gave the does a pre-kidding 5 in 1
vaccination against tetanus and gastro-enteritis plus a
selenium/iodine/copper drench that the vet had made up for me. A few
evenings later, I noticed a bubble under Sophie's tail so I made the
 assumption that she was going to kid any time. An hour later, I
went out to the barn to check on her and it was then that I found that the *
bubble I had seen was not the start of a kid being born, but the start of a
rectal prolapsis. In spite of the fact that it was now around 9pm, I
rang the vet and she came out: replaced the rectum and inserted a
pursestring stitch which she said to remove in 24 hours. Before the
prolapsis, I had not noticed Sophie straining, but that is not to say that
she hadn't been: only that * I hadn't been near her when she had
been. I had never heard of a rectal prolapsis in a goat, and after
hunting the web and asking my good friends on goatsplus, my email list
for goatkeepers, it transpired that the phenomenon was seldom seen in
goats, though not unknown amongst sheep, their close cousins. What I did
find in my search for the reason why such a rare complaint had struck my
healthy goats, I found that the three most likely causes were: hard
coughing, the animal being overfat and severe constipation. I dismissed
all three! Sophie did not have a cough, and although she was in * good
condition, she was, in my opinion, in no way over fat, and as for
constipation? well I never gave that a thought! Unless the goat drops
its berries beside me, I am not aware of the event! The vet, when she
inserted the stitch had told me that it might cause irritation and pain, and
if the goat appeared to be distressed, to remove the stitch in 24 hours
time. Sophie continued to eat well, but was straining periodically and it
was difficult to tell if it was parturition or the rectal
problem. As instructed, I removed the stitch after 24 hours and for a
day, the rectum stayed in place, but then it prolapsed once
again. It was now July 30 and Claire, the vet came out again. It was a
different Claire this time, although the ethnicity, Scottish was still
the same. As she was working on Sophie, I asked her how much training vet
students received in the treatment of goats, and she said that before
leaving Britain, she did not recall having treated even one, but since
being in New Zealand, and while based in the North Island where there are a
number of commercial dairy goat enterprises, she had worked with a few, but
her practical knowledge of the species was still very scanty. I
said that I was enabling her to learn on the run, if anyone was. I
suggested to her that, perhaps, the prolapsis was being caused by Sophie's
 distended uterus pressing on the rectum and forcing it out of place., and
that inducing her to kid, which I knew was, naturally, very close, might
solve the problem. The kids were very active, and I swear that I
could actually hear the thumps as they kicked the bejeebers out of their
 unfortunate mother!Claire agreed that inducing Sophie might solve the
problem. She did not have, at hand, the relevant information as to the
amount of prostaglandin needed, so she said that she would check that out
at the clinic and would return to administer the injection the following
day.. I asked her if she would take a look at Pan? I did not think that
he was sick, but just seemed a little bit under the weather. I had
concluded that it was, probably, just a case of the "winter blues" a
feeling that we, humans, know only too well. We are told that this has been
one of the wettest winters on record, and I believe it! I went off to
find Pan, but, instead, found Rosy, the second of my two does. I ran my hand
down behind her and there was an awful mess: no kid that I could detect, but
 everything else but the, proverbial, kitchen sink! Claire took a
bit of a double take as she said that Rosy seemed to have passed the after
birth * before the kid! On went another pair of gloves and in she dove
to the birth canal where she found a kid that was all twisted into a
complicated sailor's knot! With the aid of a length of binder twine, she got
it out. It was dead, of course I asked her to have a look for a second
kid as, from Rosy's size, I anticipated that she would find a second,
which, indeed, she did! Not only a second, but a third: both alive and, at
first glance, well! After the impromptu assisted kidding with Rosy,
Claire examined pan, but his temperature was normal and eye colour good,
so his depression, as I thought, seemed to be due to the prolonged period
of miserable weather. Claire did not give Rosy any post-kidding
injections, for, although her kidding had been assisted, the dead kid had
only died because it had been jammed in the birth canal, and she did not
think that there was any likelihood of infection. When I came inside
and checked my email, I found one there from Jennifer, our goatsplus guru,
giving the dose of prostaglandin as 1CC. I rang Claire with that
information. Back to the barn to check on the kids, and I did not like
the look of the little buck. The doe was on her feet but the buck seemed
to be incapable of using his hindlegs. I carried him to Rosy and, with
difficulty, persuaded him to take a few sucks. After another hour, I
checked him and there had been no improvement, in fact, he was,
quite definitely, deteriorating: he was cold, his breathing was very slow,
and his heartbeat was, almost, undetectable. I brought him in to
the house and put him on the hearth in front of a blazing
fire. Slowly, he started to rally. Once his breathing and
heartbeat were back to normal and he was warm, I took him back to the
barn: got a bit more of Rosy's largesse into him via a syringe and put Julius
and his, very hale and hearty sister, Juliette, beside a fan
heater. Once again, I wrote to goatsplus asking if the buck's inability
to stand was Floppy Kid Syndrome? Back came the answer: "FKS, normally,
shows up at 3 to 15 days of age. White muscle disease caused by a
selenium deficiency was more likely" The next morning, (Thursday), he was
able to stand, but was still very weak and wobbly in
his hindquarters. As promised, Claire returned and gave Julius an
injection of selenium, remarking as she did so on what a good mother Rosy
was as she placed herself between her little son and the wicked vet.
Claire also administered the prostaglandin [Lutilise] to
Sophie. Jennifer had said that it might take 36 hours to induce kidding,
but work it would. I kept an eye or, rather a hand, on Sophie's
progress during the day, but her cervix remained, obstinately, shut as
tight as a duck's arse!. On Thursday evening, although Sophie was still
pushing hard against the stitches, trying to get rid of that accursed
rectum, in the periods of relaxation, she seemed quite content and was still
eating well. Rosy took her share of the cabbage leaves that I took to
the goats, and appeared to have expelled the last of the afterbirth,
though I did notice a smell around her hindquarters, but it was
not offensive. However, when I went out to the barn early on Friday
morning, August 1, although on her feet, Rosy was very sick. My, by now
almost resident vet came immediately and even in that short time, Rosy
had gone down and her head was back. Claire found that a portion of
afterbirth had been retained and had gone rotten, and Rosy had septicemia
coursing through her body. Claire gave her massive shots of antitoxin,
penicillin and anti-inflammatory. I covered Rosy with a horse blanket
and put a heater beside her, and now to look at Sophie. 26 hours had past
since she had been given the prostaglandin, but there was not the slightest
sign of any relaxation of the cervix. Claire suggested that we wait
another two hours, but I said that I did not think that two more
hours would yield much, and that a caesarian was our next step. Claire
agreed and said that she would go back to the clinic and arrange for
 transport. All I could do for Rosy was to keep her hydration level
up, so every two hours throughout the day and Friday night, I was giving
her, alternately, warm water, warm water with molasses and Ketol. For
a while, she seemed to be holding her own, but by midnight, I was quite sure
that she had lost the battle, as she started making that dreadful mooing
noise, and once you hear that, it is a certain sign that death is
inevitable, but, nevertheless, you continue to fight for them. Now:
going back to Sophie: She was picked up and taken to the clinic and a
 caesarian was performed, and three strong and healthy kids was the
result. As is common when the babies are produced this way, the * mother,
who doesn't realize that she is one, was not too happy about these little
strangers trying to be familiar with her, so the staff milked her and fed
them by syringe. Sophie and her children were kept in an enclosed dog kennel
at the clinic overnight and returned home the following day. The vets
were most impressed with Sophie's behaviour while at the surgery. They did
not even have to sedate her, while performing the caesarian: just inject
local anaesthetic around the site, and she just stood there
quietly! I had decided to feed Sophie's kids by hand. I was feeding
Rosy's, so 3 more would not make much of a difference. Actually, I
was not too happy with the sound of Sophie's voice from the moment she got
home, and it turned out that she was not making any milk, although she had
had a fairly well-filled udder before the birth. Saturday passed
without too many alarms and excursions, but on Sunday morning, I found that
the rectum was beginning to prolapse once again. I rang Claire to give
her the bad news that we were * almost back to square 1: the * almost
being that we had three kids. This time, it was not Claire, the Scot,
who came, but Jay who calls Baltimore his home town, and he, in turn, was
accompanied by a student from Hawaii. By this time, Sophie's digestive
system had completely packed it in. She was not drinking or eating, and
Jay found that there was absolutely no rumen activity. Her bowel was full
of impacted fece which she was unable to pass. Jay gave her an enema, but by
the evening of that day, I knew that a miracle would have to occur if I was
 going to find her alive the next morning. Sad to say, the mircale did not
occur and I found Sophie stretched out in front of her heater in the
morning. Now: to take you right back to Sophie's initial rectal prolapse:
one of the probable reasons for its occurrence is due to the animal being
* overfat. As I said, Sophie was in * good condition, but, in no way, was
she * overfat. However, after her death, Jay revealed that in
resectioning the rectum which was an operation he performed that I forgot
to mention, he had found a lot of fat surrounding the rectum and also lining
its inside walls, and it was this that caused her inability to pass
feces. I don't like to see an animal carrying too much fat, and in this
day and age when people think that leanness is akin to starvation, I am
often being told that the animals in my care are * thin, but I know that
they are not! However, you cannot keep your animals in a state of emaciation
just to sidestep the rare chance of the animal laying down internal
fat. I have had goats, continuously, for 35 years, and in that time, I
have had, relatikvely, few health problems. There has never been anything
like what I have had this year. There were two interesting differences
that I noticed between the deaths of Rosy and Sophie. Rosy's
temperature had dropped well below normal, while Sophie's was, as far as I
can judge, normal. Rosy started that awful mooing noise a few hours before
she died, while Sophie never did. The mooing was accompanied by Rosy's
head going further and further back towards her shoulder, while Sophie
did not * moo, nor did her head fold back! When I found her in the morning,
she was just stretched out, apparently in comfort, in front of the fan
heater. THE KIDS: Rosy's kids: a buck and a doe: are both white,
while Sophie's three: two bucks and a doe: are bucks black and white, and
doe, brown and white. There names are: Rosy's born July 30th: Julius and
Juliette. Sophie's are Minstrel and Raggamuffin, while the doe, who was
very tiny at birth, but nice and strong, is Heide. Thinking up
names is a sort of passion with me. Julius and Juliette, I think will be
quite obvious, but Sophie's need a little explanation. As the two
bucks are black and white, Minstrel is for The Black and White Minstrels,
while Raggamuffin was Rag time for the Black and White Rag which some of you
may remember as quite a popular piece of piano music back about 30 or 40
years ago. I couldn't like Rag Time as a call name, so I tried all sorts
of variations until it eventually lengthened into Raggamuffin. The
tiny brown and white doe still didn't have a name, and then I thought of the
book about the little Swiss girl goatherd, Heide. It did not occur to
me immediately, but later I realized how appropriate the names Minstrel and
Rag time were as their sire, Pan, bears the name of the Greek god of
music. Julius was the buck who had, supposedly, whitemuscle disease. For
a couple of weeks, he had difficulty using his hindlegs properly, and
when the others went out in the morning, Julius would be left behind in
the stall. However, all that is past history, and he is now part of the
gang.