Torturing the Goat

I don't torture all my animals.  Most of them lead lives to envy.  Not only do they have their own rooms and pastures, but I deliver their food and water right to the table.  Those that like to be cuddled and petted, which seems to be restricted to mammal animals, get frequent cuddle breaks.  

Even Hattie, the baby donkey, is interested when Rufus and Wendigo get attention, although she hasn't stepped up for her share yet.  

But the goats, particularly poor Peaches, get a little torture mixed into their good times.  This includes hoof trimming, mite treatments, attempted breeding, herbal wormer, and bloated goat massage.  Most recently, I've had to bathe Peach's poopy backside, again, and then figure out how to dose her with pepto bismol.  She's not a fan.  Her first round of diarrhea involved the torture of a bath, car rides, vet visits, blood samples, and days of giant pills being inserted into her throat.  Not to mention being on a diet of only hay, which means being locked in the stall.  Since she doesn't like to be left in there alone, all the goats were penned up.  Once she was back to normal poops, I would feed her hay, then let her out into the pasture for a half hour to an hour, and they would romp and munch.  It's cute when the boys beards are green from munching weeds.  

But then I got a bit distracted last Saturday, and let the goats out for nearly three hours.  This didn't bother the twin Rivers at all, but Poor Peaches woke up Sunday morning with her backside coated in green.  And a little blood.  Again.  Sigh.  Not to be too graphic, but she was sort of like a reverse quirt gun that shoots green.  She squirted the other goats too, just in time for company to visit and see my usually adorable goats contaminated by grossness.    

Have you ever had to force feed a goat pepto bismol?  No?  Well, just let me tell you, it ain't easy.  After wasting several doses which ended up on Peaches face and on my clothes, I resorted to filling a turkey baster with it, clamping her in a headlock, and then squirting it in her mouth.  Most of it gets swallowed.  After dosing her four times in two days, keeping her penned up for four days, and only letting her eat hay, she's back to normal.   Except her face and ears are streaked with pink!  

Now begins the slow introduction to green plant food, again.  I think the boy goats don't stuff themselves so full, which is why they don't seem to be bothered by it.  They spend some of their free time in the pasture acting goofy and getting some exercise.  But Peaches eats like she's never going to get another opportunity, and then gets a belly ache.  Then I have to torture her.  Which is torture to me.  So we're even.