Goat Goat Dancing

We've been having issues lately with the goats escaping.  Well, I say we've been having issues - Roger's been having issues.  It started out with just Houdetta and Domino (Houdetta so named because she would manage to escape the herd so often we figured she had to be Houdini reincarnated - and Domino, her son, so named because he's pure black with white spots.)  Roger finally managed to fill up all the holes she found and stop her from helping herself to a hay buffet - he didn't really grudge her the hay, but she'd eat through the twine to get to it, which made it a lot harder to haul around.

But the past couple of days, the entire herd has been getting out somehow.  Roger isn't sure how - he's rode the fenceline, and he's even staked them out to see if he can figure it out, but no luck yet.  It's not really an issue - they come running when you bring out the fresh hay, but still...  anyway - today, the herd came visiting Marlo and her habitrail.  I'm not sure if it was just a prison visit, or if they were offering to bust her out (although the fact that a couple of them came up on the porch leads me to believe they may have heard about the sweet deal Marlo's got and some of them may want in on the feeding/couch jumping.)  Part of me wishes that Marlo hadn't been in her corral - I'd like her to go ahead and integrate into the herd - but part of me is glad she was because it did not end well the last time she played with these guys (Ron and Roger ended up finding her bleating her poor little heart out, abandoned in a gully she couldn't get out of.)  But it'll be interesting to see if she can integrate - in a few weeks.  I've still got a couple weeks of her being my little bummer.

She's Getting Dangerous

Marlo's midday feeding was... fraught.  For one thing, Roger's been having to put her in the corral during the day, because she just jumps the fence of her habitrail.  So she gets anxious and ready to free-range once it's feeding time.  The minute he lifts up the corral and she can slip under it, she makes a beeline for the door, slipping when she hits the wood on the deck, but barrelling towards her bottle.  Unfortunately, today Miss Lili was also on the porch, chilling out, and Marlo ran straight over the top of her.  Poor Lili is ok, but she's still muttering something in canine about "What the heck hit me?"

Then, once she slurped down the groceries, Marlo decided she wanted to come up and climb Mount Midoramommy... which is, of course, where Lili had gone to lick her wounds from the first encounter.  Lili made her way up me to the back of the sofa as Marlo was coming around my front, so further injury was avoided, but Marlo decided she wanted to go shopping on my desktop.  After informing her that no, she can't eat my stationery, or drink any of my caffeine, or eat my glasses, or... she finally decided she'd better suck up quick or she wasn't going to have lap privileges anymore, so she went back to her old fall-back, suckling on my ear. 

She hadn't really suckled my ear since the first week... trust me, she's got even more teeth now, and she's got absolutely no finesse - think horny 16 year old boy on his first date - but it was a nice reminder of when she was my little kid... ok, so she's kept lap privileges.  For now.  Stay away from my stationery, though!

Travails with Hank

Hank the Tumor has been too much with me the past couple of weeks.  Partially because it's coming up on our anniversary - April 8th 2013 is when my uterus exploded and Hank entered my life, but more than that, I've got an appointment at Huntsman later this month to talk to a new set of doctors about him and I'm irrationally nervous about paying any attention to him.  He's been amazingly quiet, considering, and I'd really rather not wake him up. 

I really should be celebrating - I was talking to Mom about it, and if you consider the rarity of myxoid ULMS... 6 women a year are diagnosed - if you round that down to 5 for ease of math, and consider that there's a survival rate of 50% the first two years, 20% by year five - I might be the sole survivor of the class of 2013.  (I know, black humor - hey, it's got me through so far.)  My current doctor said he looked over the notes from my former cancer doctor, and she has absolutely no clue what I'm doing still alive.  But here I am...

Marlo Moments

I always questioned whether the whole "goats go for high ground" thing was a myth... but Marlo definitely prefers to be high sentry.  She's already climbed me (multiple times), but now, she's making the assent up Mount Sofa whenever possible.  Not just the seat - she's climbing the back, trying to get as high as possible.

She also has a definite preference for her dad - Mom and I were doing the morning feeding while Roger was in the shower, and the minute he got out and came into the room, she was right there under his feet (trying to climb up his legs, of course.)

She's a bit unhappy about us putting her in the corral with the high sides and lid, but it's for her own safety.  Yesterday, she was over trying to make friends with the cow and her calf, and the calf was *not* having it.  She almost got herself trampled before Roger got her back.  She may be growing fast, but the calf still has a few (hundred) pounds on her.

There's Nothing Like a Baby Goat

I started out the morning with a figurative black dog on my shoulder - dealing with trying to pay invoices from the painter, where the credit card company was rejecting the invoice because it's not the kind of thing that I normally buy.  Yeah... I'm not normally trying to sell my house, so I don't normally hire painters.  Look, I've got more than enough in my credit line - just pay the damn thing! And then, of course, the painter who said he would have an invoice to me last Thursday, but didn't get it to me until yesterday evening, calls immediately this morning to tell me that it's not going through, without giving me time to fix the problem.  And, of course, my bladder decides this is a good time to start the waterworks... and I'm dealing with the house cleaner coming and a doctor's appointment, which is going to involve going to town and my knees screaming at me for the next couple of days, and...

And then it's time for Marlo's morning feeding.  She runs in the door, heading straight for me, joy on the hoof. She bumps her little head against me, impatient for the groceries, but also letting me know that I'm her whole world for the next five minutes (or however long it takes to slurp down her bottle). And then she climbed up Mount Sofa and headed straight for my lap, wiggling and writhing and trying to eat my glasses, my hair, nurse on my ears... whatever part of me she could get to, she wanted part of.  She made me laugh and I could feel the black dog slumping off... it's not that he left the room, but there just isn't any room for despair when a baby goat is nuzzling you.  I wish that joy for all of you - not necessarily a baby goat (they are a lot of work), but something that can bring you back to joy when you most need it.

A Rough Start to 53

Rough start to the morning - I fell out of bed.  Well, not so much fall, as slowly slip down past the point of recovery.  I've mentioned my issues with my knees before - basically, there's no cartilage left, and I can't put any weight on them - so when I'm down, I'm down.  And of course, the reason I was trying to get up in the first place was that I needed to go to the bathroom, in the worst way.  Yep.  This was the worst way... stuck on the floor in a puddle, needing to be rescued. 

On the other hand - Uncle Ron rousted our neighbor down the street, and between Roger, Mom, Ron, Kelly and the two lovely women from the tribal ambulance, I'm back up vertical, with only psychological bruising - thankful I was dressed when it happened, that I didn't do any damage to my body, that it was something easily (well, relatively easily) solved - and for a wonderful family who all rallied to my aid. 

I'm really grateful for my family's reactions, too - Sherri was very encouraging, seeing the bright side, Mom made sure to cheer me up afterwards with an incredible Easter basket/birthday present, Roger stayed with me and comforted me while we were waiting - and Uncle Ron is currently researching where to get the tarp lift just in case this happens again.  And the kindness of neighbors - I hadn't met Kelly before, but he came right over to help lift me up, joking about not even having to miss church, since it's Conference weekend. 

It was a hard way to start the day - but it could have been much worse.  And then we got on with the day - Marlo's morning feeding, where she slurped down her milk in record time, and then proceeded to climb the couch.  She's growing up so fast! Almost too fast - I'm going to miss her once she grows out of needing us.

Oh, and gifts - Mom found an Easter bunny bag with my name embroidered on it!  I think this is the first time I've had anything with Deci embroidered on it.  She filled it with adult goodies - lotions and shampoo and Lindt chocolate bunnies and carrots, all the necessities of life.  Roger found me ammo to deal with Briggs and Gary - a laser gun with noise and lights that I can use next time they're running around like hooligans.  Oh, and he got me the Elton John Diamonds box set - it's absolutely fabulous, of course, with art postcards and a hard-cover book with factoids about each song.  All in all... the day is looking up.