Talking in Tongues

    Our first appointment at the veterinary hospital arrived right on time.  It was a buck (a male goat) scheduled to get castrated.    I could smell the musky little guy before I could see him.   I looked over the stall door to see a thirty pound, shiny black goat with horns, a long goatee and a bouffant.  He looked like he grew up on the Jersey Shore.  All he was missing was hair gel and some gold chains.  The girls in the office said they didn't see it and he seemed to remind them more of Satan.  We agreed to disagree until they went to catch him. 
     I was in the office when a deafening roar broke out from the barn.  I crossed myself as I headed into the barn.  I found the veterinarian and Molly,wide eyed, holding the goat.  I asked, over the shrieking animal, what had happened.  They said they simply went to catch the little flour sack sized goat when he started screeching in tongues as he torpedoed, horn first, at the doctor's head.  She was able to catch him right before impact.  He sounded like a Judas Priest record being played backwards, blasting at full volume as they moved him into the surgery room.  I asked the doctor if she wanted me to call in the local priest for assistance or if she thought she needed some holy water or a crucifix for the procedure.  She said she might.  Luckily, the anesthesia was enough to silence the demons, as he slept quietly through the procedure, where he didn't feel a thing.  The procedure was uneventful as we exorcised the testosterone makers right out of him.  He spent the rest of the day quiet and peaceful in his stall until his owners came to take him home.  Amen.

You may be the prince of darkness but we got your nuggets.

      
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Copyright (c) 2014 Jacksonhillhorseygirl.com January 29, 2014

Blowing Off The Blog

   Wednesday night is write night.  On write night, the ranch owner feeds the horses and Autumn sleeps under the stars in the pasture.  After work, I head directly to Starbucks to force on a second wind with a mega mocha.  Then I set up shop there with my laptop as I misspell my way through a blog until closing time.  Last week, I blew the whole routine off.  Instead of writing a blog I decided to make one. The Wolf Moon was rising full in a clear winter sky on that write night.  The January moon acquired its name of the Wolf due to wolf packs hungrily howling outside Indian villages in the cold and deep snows of midwinter.   
     The sun had exhausted itself from the sky as I saddled Autumn and led her into the woods. 



The sun's twilight, opposite the dawning moon. 
(Autumn's ear is poking into the scene on the right)

  We arrived at the first clearing just in time to watch the peach Wolf stalking Orion into the sky. 

The Wolf Moon to the left of Autumn's silhouetted ear. 
A tiny Jupiter is to the left of the moon.

    The moon rose high enough to spill its light over the trees onto the forest trails on the east side of the mountain.  Lilly and Shep, the ranch dogs, shepherded us into the darkness.  Lilly ran ahead to search out our path while Shep stayed close beside Autumn.  Under the shroud of darkness my balance found its true center in the saddle.  My hearing tuned itself through the pitch of the east wind to eavesdrop on  the finer whispers in the forest.  My eyes adjusted to the shades and shadows, giving the darkness its own colors.  Moonlight slipped between the trees.  Autumn and I flickered in and out of the silver scenes.  Left behind were the frames of our silent movie in her quiet foot falls.   
     When we reached the forest meadow, the sky was turning the pages of universe's epic story written in stars. The Gemini twins cradled Jupiter in their arms.  Taurus the bull had his fiery red eye, Aldebaran, on Orion, the sky's matador.  Auriga, the charioteer, who does not actually own a chariot, was up there hugging his two baby goats.  Pegasus, left us to gallop to the west as Autumn and I continued on to the east.
     We left the mythologies in the meadow as we slipped back into the eclipse of the firs.  The moon struggled to reach us in the heart of woods.  I gave Autumn her reins and let the rhythm of her strides calm my heartbeat.  I held a piece of her mane as if it were her hand as she carried us home.   

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Copyright (c) 2014 Jacksonhillhorseygirl.com January 22, 2014

A Leap of Faith

     I was ten minutes into my lunch break when my phone rang.  It was my office manager calling from the veterinary hospital. Frazzled,  she frantically told me that the sheriffs had just shown up with a baby calf and they wanted to leave it at the office and she had no idea what to do and she never had this happen before and...I told her I was coming back to the office. 
    Standing in the office were the two sheriffs.  They told me that a baby calf popped out of the back of a pick up truck that was going at least 70 miles per hour on Highway 101.   The driver behind the truck pulled over when he saw the little brown bundle tumble to the side of the road.  To the driver's surprise the calf was able to get up and stand on his wobbly little legs!  He called the sheriffs and they came right over and picked the little fellow up.
    I went into the barn expecting to see a calf that looked like it had  fallen out of a truck and bounced off the pavement at 70 mph.  I reluctantly looked over the stall door and saw... the cutest baby Jersey calf standing in the corner blinking it's twinkly little brown eyes at me.  He couldn't have been more then a day or two old.  I was in love!  I went in the stall and I could barely find scrape on him!  My office manager and I got busy fluffing up a comfy straw bed under a heat lamp for him.  We scooted him over to it and exhausted he flopped down in the hay. 

All snuggled up in his straw after his freeway fall

 



      When the veterinarian returned from his appointment he examined the little calf.  Amazingly enough, he got a clean bill of health.  The sheriffs left us with the calf's case number and gave us their phone numbers to contact them if the owner should call and want to claim him.  None of us at the office expected the owner to call.  This was a Jersey bull calf.  Jersey's are a breed of dairy cows.  Only girl cows have the ability to make milk not boy cows.  Boy cows, which are called bulls, are not valuable to most diary farm owners and they do not have a very long future.  Our guess was that this little guy was going to the meat market where he would probably be sold for $5.00. 
     We were all worried about this little guy's future.  He sure was cute but he would grow to be a 900 pound animal.  My office manager and I were trying to figure out a plan for this little guy...we could take turns bringing him home to bottle feed overnight and we could bring him back to work during the day to bottle feed him.  I thought about bringing him home to the horse ranch and just tell the ranch owner that it was just a funny looking mini horse.  Then when he got too big for our situation I could pay one of our dairy farmers a monthly fee to let him live out his days in their pasture and...I stopped my frantic planning when I saw one of our vets carrying the little guy out to one of our horse client's trailer. 
     The client came in and she told us that it appears that she had been chosen to be the calf's foster mom.  The office manager and I gathered up a calf bottle, dried colostrum, heating lamp, probiotics, a selenium injection, iodine to dip his naval cord and anything else he needed that we had.  The two of us chipped and paid for the supplies as a calf baby shower gift to his new foster mom. 
    We called his foster mom up over the next few days and she said he was doing great so we sort of weaned ourselves off of bugging her for the calf report.  Then about a week later his foster mom called the office.  I listened as she told me how he was running and rodeo'ing around his little pen kicking up his heals.  Then she stopped talking.  I braced myself, waiting for her to get to the bad news.  Now, I work in a place where a good percentage of the phone calls I get are because something is wrong with the caller's animal and they need the help of the veterinarians.  In the awkward silence I realized what she said was it...she just wanted to tell me how adorable he was running around and feeling good.  I was so relieved!  I must have seemed like a big weirdo on the phone to her but I'm not used to getting just plain cute news like that.  It was great! 
     The foster mom brought the little calf in for a recheck appointment a few weeks later.  She named him after the veterinarian who without asking placed him in her trailer. He was dressed in a warm little blanket with a green baby horse halter on and antlers that blinked for the holidays.  He followed  his foster mom around like she was his real mom. 

Here he is for his recheck appointment.  We posted this photo on Facebook and he became quite the celebrity getting over 5,000 Likes and shared all over.  The post read " Do you remember reading about the little calf that jumped out of the back of a pickup truck on Hwy 101 a few weeks ago? Well he is doing wonderful thanks to all the love and care from his foster owner. We think we know how he was able to survive jumping out a truck going 70mph...he's part reindeer! We are so happy that he is healthy and happy for the holidays!"

    This little calf is undoubtedly one of the luckiest and smartest little calves I have ever met.  He took his chances jumping out of a moving truck that was most likely taking him to the end of his journey.  A good Samaritan took the time to pull over and make sure this little fellow got to a safe place.  The veterinarians made sure he was all in one piece and gave him to someone they knew would love him and give him a great caring home. 

Thanks for reading!  If you would like to contact me or join my mailing list please email me at Jacksonhillhorseygirl@aol.com.

Copyright (c) 2014 Jacksonhillhorseygirl.com January 8, 2014