The night is young, so perhaps I'm jinxing myself by saying that bringing home the bottle babies was a piece of cake. Maybe it's because I'm an old pro now; maybe it's because the new goats appreciated being plopped down in a goat pen with other goats; maybe it's because bottle babies are more familiar with people and less dependent on their goat mama. At any rate, there were no screams or crying tantrums. With Oscar and Elmo's epic meltdown fresh in our minds, the Wrangler and I had braced ourselves for the worst. But Grover and Neko made the transition pretty well. They definitely were timid and nervous, but they were quiet and didn't mind sitting on our laps.
Equally shocking, I'm handling things much better this time around. I was so worried about Oscar and Elmo those first few days! I didn't sleep a wink and my pulse raced. But goat-induced anxiety attacks are so three weeks ago. I'm fairly calm right now, and I've only peeked at the goat pen twice since tucking them in an hour ago.
At just five weeks old, the bottle babies are tiny. TINY. I'm glad the weather has been warm and there's no need to mess around with a heat lamp. The Wrangler thought that the four goats would end up sharing one doghouse at night, but I suspected it wouldn't work that way. I was right. Oscar and Elmo, while not overly hostile, were not exactly delighted to meet their new herd members. They ignored the babies for the most part, but both Oscar and Elmo raised their hackles. When we tucked the goats in for the night, we did see Elmo give one of the babies a good night headbutt before each set of twins settled into their respective doghouse.
We'll see what tomorrow brings. The refrigerator and freezer are stocked with goat's milk and baby bottles. The first bottle feeding is at 7 AM.
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