BlueMoonFarms
True BYH Addict
So last year something happened that I never thought to post here.
The more I've been thinking about it and sharing this story the more I feel compelled to type everything up as I did with Anne and her mastitis issue. If the info helps someone then awesome!
So here it is.
Last spring I had two bottle babies. Peter and Frankie. The folks who bought the pair wanted them social and already used to being away from the rest of the herd, so I brought them up to the "barn" *our attached garage turned into a barn* and put them in a pen so they could acclimate from being away from the others.
A few weeks go by, and I start to notice Peter getting a little thin. I had started weaning them and with the stress of that plus room change I wasn't to shocked. I wormed them both with a white wormer and upped the hay as well as added a little extra milk for Peter. Frankie I might add was fat and happy, no change in him.
Another week goes by and that was when I started to worry.
Peter was even thinner.
I called my vet at the time and they told me not to worry about it, just to worm him again.
So, I wormed Peter again and called his soon to be owners.
I explained that I was not comfortable selling him in such condition, and they agreed to pick him up later in the month.
Well, another week later and peter was almost skin and bone. On top of that his poop became liquid almost over night.
I panicked and called the vet again, who told me to hit him with a clear wormer.
So that day, worrying that a huge worm load was eating away at my babies, I gave him a dose of Ivermecton and put them both back outside to forage in hopes that some green and sun would help.
Two hours later my two LGD's are going nuts. Barking their heads off and throwing themselves at the house windows.
When I went outside I found poor Peter in the middle of a seizure under the chicken coop with a terrified Frankie being flanked by the even more worried Pyrenees.
At this point I feared that he had overdosed somehow on the ivermecton so I jammed some charcoal and milk of magnesia down his throat. Thankfully he pulled out of the seizure, but now he was not only skin and bone, had diarrhea, but now was not interested in anything other then milk and hay.
I called the owners and told them I could not let him leave, but would be willing to give them Peters sister Mary instead. They were sad and worried about Peter but understood.
I called my vet again, and they told me to just put him on some crappy hay.
Beginning to loose faith in the vet who refused to come out *or so it seemed* I began to do some research on my own, but could find nothing...Nothing that worked anyway. Antibiotics, scower treatment, vitamins...
I gave Peter the crappy hay as instructed and basically waited for the poor guy to pass away.
I kept looking, calling my vet and searching for answers but nothing. Every now and then Peter would seem a little better, perkier in a way. His stool would harden up a little, and so i would dare to give him a little grain. I mean a little, like a taste. But it would just send him back into a Hershey squirt depression...
My vet *still absent by the way* suggested that maybe his ruminant was shutting down, and to cull him. I waited for my husband to come home and told him the bad news. Actually I sobbed hysterically and begged him to let me have a necropsy done, when he showed me this article on his IPAD: http://www.sheepmagazine.com/articles/dead-ram-walking/
Turned out he was researching to, and on his way home he found the darkest ale he could find and figured that at least the little guy could have a good send off if it didn't work.
So, I popped the beer into a bottle and let Peter drink it all. And he did, happily.
Fully expecting to see him dead or dying, I walked outside and to my amazement found him happily eating his hay cubes. I gave him another the next day, and the next day, and the next day, and he just kept getting stronger.
His poop went back to normal, his appetite increased, his coat began to get shinny again, and where he still looked like hell he was so much stronger.
It took a total of six months for him to regain his weight and be able to eat grain and good hay again but he recovered. And heck if the folks who wanted him didn't come back and ask if they could BUY him. I laughed and told them to give him a good life and I would be happy. They settled with trading him for a bag of grain and two bales of hay.
Now he, Frankie and Mary are living good lives.
All thanks to beer.
Moral of the story, if you think your goats ruminant may be shutting down for what ever reason, find a good dark beer and them be drunks. It works. At least it did for my boy Peter. If anything it's one heck of a send off. *cough* and have a good vet *cough* which I have now *cough*
*Sorry no pictures, my computer crashed and I didn't back them up :/ *
But like Anne, I thought this may help someone. So here you go guys! Give your goat a beer!
The more I've been thinking about it and sharing this story the more I feel compelled to type everything up as I did with Anne and her mastitis issue. If the info helps someone then awesome!
So here it is.
Last spring I had two bottle babies. Peter and Frankie. The folks who bought the pair wanted them social and already used to being away from the rest of the herd, so I brought them up to the "barn" *our attached garage turned into a barn* and put them in a pen so they could acclimate from being away from the others.
A few weeks go by, and I start to notice Peter getting a little thin. I had started weaning them and with the stress of that plus room change I wasn't to shocked. I wormed them both with a white wormer and upped the hay as well as added a little extra milk for Peter. Frankie I might add was fat and happy, no change in him.
Another week goes by and that was when I started to worry.
Peter was even thinner.
I called my vet at the time and they told me not to worry about it, just to worm him again.
So, I wormed Peter again and called his soon to be owners.
I explained that I was not comfortable selling him in such condition, and they agreed to pick him up later in the month.
Well, another week later and peter was almost skin and bone. On top of that his poop became liquid almost over night.
I panicked and called the vet again, who told me to hit him with a clear wormer.
So that day, worrying that a huge worm load was eating away at my babies, I gave him a dose of Ivermecton and put them both back outside to forage in hopes that some green and sun would help.
Two hours later my two LGD's are going nuts. Barking their heads off and throwing themselves at the house windows.
When I went outside I found poor Peter in the middle of a seizure under the chicken coop with a terrified Frankie being flanked by the even more worried Pyrenees.
At this point I feared that he had overdosed somehow on the ivermecton so I jammed some charcoal and milk of magnesia down his throat. Thankfully he pulled out of the seizure, but now he was not only skin and bone, had diarrhea, but now was not interested in anything other then milk and hay.
I called the owners and told them I could not let him leave, but would be willing to give them Peters sister Mary instead. They were sad and worried about Peter but understood.
I called my vet again, and they told me to just put him on some crappy hay.
Beginning to loose faith in the vet who refused to come out *or so it seemed* I began to do some research on my own, but could find nothing...Nothing that worked anyway. Antibiotics, scower treatment, vitamins...
I gave Peter the crappy hay as instructed and basically waited for the poor guy to pass away.
I kept looking, calling my vet and searching for answers but nothing. Every now and then Peter would seem a little better, perkier in a way. His stool would harden up a little, and so i would dare to give him a little grain. I mean a little, like a taste. But it would just send him back into a Hershey squirt depression...
My vet *still absent by the way* suggested that maybe his ruminant was shutting down, and to cull him. I waited for my husband to come home and told him the bad news. Actually I sobbed hysterically and begged him to let me have a necropsy done, when he showed me this article on his IPAD: http://www.sheepmagazine.com/articles/dead-ram-walking/
Turned out he was researching to, and on his way home he found the darkest ale he could find and figured that at least the little guy could have a good send off if it didn't work.
So, I popped the beer into a bottle and let Peter drink it all. And he did, happily.
Fully expecting to see him dead or dying, I walked outside and to my amazement found him happily eating his hay cubes. I gave him another the next day, and the next day, and the next day, and he just kept getting stronger.
His poop went back to normal, his appetite increased, his coat began to get shinny again, and where he still looked like hell he was so much stronger.
It took a total of six months for him to regain his weight and be able to eat grain and good hay again but he recovered. And heck if the folks who wanted him didn't come back and ask if they could BUY him. I laughed and told them to give him a good life and I would be happy. They settled with trading him for a bag of grain and two bales of hay.
Now he, Frankie and Mary are living good lives.
All thanks to beer.
Moral of the story, if you think your goats ruminant may be shutting down for what ever reason, find a good dark beer and them be drunks. It works. At least it did for my boy Peter. If anything it's one heck of a send off. *cough* and have a good vet *cough* which I have now *cough*
*Sorry no pictures, my computer crashed and I didn't back them up :/ *
But like Anne, I thought this may help someone. So here you go guys! Give your goat a beer!