Coccidia Scare

Since I have a lot of doggy friends, who tend to be animal lovers in general, I hear this comment a lot:

"This is amazing!  I've always wanted a little farm!  You are living my dream!"

Growing up in suburbia where the idea of growing and raising my own food seemed distant, I can certainly relate.  I love animals and the idea of a little farm with different animals running around seemed like heaven. 

The problem is, I didn't grow up around livestock.  I wasn't part of 4H or FFA (Future Farmers of America).  Heck, I haven't even taken a horse-back riding lesson.  The closest I got to a horse was the little pony rides in Pasadena.  How could I be a farmer?

But where there is a will, there is a way, and here I am, 29 years old with 1 acre to do as I please.  And what was the first thing I did?  I got my goats.

Please don't get me wrong.  I did a TON of research before I got the goats.  I made sure that I was capable of giving them a good home before I even started calling breeders.  But there are some things that only life and experience can teach you ... and maybe a 16 year-old 4H kid.

And here is where my story begins...

Some goat owners de-worm their goats monthly, some do it seasonally, some use herbal de-wormers, and others use chemical de-wormers.  De-wormers are a lot like antibiotics.  There is not just one de-wormer to kill all parasites, just like there isn't one antibiotics to kill all bacteria.  Also, parasites can grow resistant to de-wormers, just like what happens to antibiotics.  With that information at hand, I decided that the best way to de-worm my goats was to do it only when necessary and to pick the appropriate de-wormer for the parasite they have.  This can be accomplished by doing a fecal flotation. Since I don't know how to do a fecal test, I've made an arrangement with my doggy vet for them to do them for a small fee.  After all, poop is poop and a parasite is a parasite, it doesn't matter if it is coming from a goat or a dog. 

I've been doing this regularly and so far all my lab results have come back negative for any parasite load, until Friday.

On Friday, I got an email from the veterinarian with these results:

OVA&PARA: OVA & PARASITES
 EIMERIA OOCYSTS PRESENT RARE (1-2)

Okay?  What does that mean?

Coccidia.

I go to my goat reference book to figure out which de-wormer to use, when I read that Coccidia is one of the main killers of goat kids.  Coccidiosis is fatal. 

This is about the point when I start flipping out.

I do some quick research (super fast), and figure out that I need either Corid or Sulmet.  A lot of goat owners are not big fans of Corid because it can deplete the thiamine in the body, so many use Sulmet to treat (not diluted).  So I started making calls to all the local feed stores.

I call Livermore Feed, Alamo Feed, Concord Feed, Western Saddlery, and Rowell Ranch Saddlery.  Every single one of them are out of both Corid and Sulmet.  Something about it being back-ordered from the manufacturer.   So finally I call the large animal vet.  This is what she tells me:

"Well Coccidia tends to kill the strongest animal first.  You may come home to a dead animal.  Do you want me to treat them?  Well no, I don't have the treatment.  I will have to order it."

UGH!  Super unhelpful!  

So I call my goat breeder and she is not immediately available. 

Who next to call?  How about Nicole?  

Nicole is my 16-year old goat sitter.  She is so worldly and wise beyond her years.  Right now she is away at college.  Yes, college.  She is going to a junior college and then plans to attend UC Davis veterinary school.  This is where I wish I had her experience.  She is active in her local 4H group and has been raising and breeding goats her entire life.  She calmly explained to me that it is normal for adult goats to have a small number of coccidia present in their intestinal tract.  That adults have a strong enough immune system to handle the parasite, but that goat kids are very susceptible to it.  

Wow, nothing is more humbling than calling a teenage girl for advice.  But thank goodness she is there!

I confirmed this information with a few websites and with the goat breeder, who finally called me back.  
   
Why am I telling this story?  To let you guys know that it is not all a walk in the park.  That despite my crazy hoof-trimming schedule, testing, meticulous cleaning, grooming, I still don't know it all.  And I panic. Once Sulmet becomes available again I am going to keep it in my goat medicine kit.  But I am learning and I am researching and dammit, I am going to eat that goat cheese!

Our Treehouse

Have I ever mentioned our tree house?  I probably haven't.  We don't have children and I really didn't see a need for a tree house on our urban farm.  It sat humbly in the old oak tree, waiting for someone's attention.

When we first looked at the property we didn't go all the way to the end of it.  So after we put our offer down we made a trek to the very end and found a tree house.  A very elaborate one.  It was a split-level green house with doors, windows, curtains, a chair, corkboard, and a mattress.  

At one point, my husband was convinced that someone was living in the tree house.  He was at the bottom of the property and he saw a quick large movement from inside.  It could of been an animal, but he thought it was too big for a raccoon.  So he grabbed Harley and a shotgun, rapped on the door, and called out, "I AM GOING TO COME BACK IN 10 MINUTES AND YOU BETTER BE GONE!"  Sure enough, that person moved out.  

Then one blustery, rainy day, the house and half the tree came down.  

BOOM!  

Well, at least, that's the sound I imagine it made when it hit the earth.  I didn't hear it over the storm.  If a tree falls down in the middle of a storm, does it make a sound?

My husband and I stood there the next morning staring at all the debris.  Thoughts flying in and out of heads. 

We don't have a truck or trailer to haul the remains of the tree house to the dump.  So, my parent's offered us Ol' Blue.  

Meet Ol' Blue.  

I have fond memories of Ol' Blue.  She is my Dad's old grimy work truck.  She is dirty, she is old, most little things are broken on her, and she's got enough torque to haul a mountain.  My Dad would take me and my girlfriends to school blasting scratchy 1980's love songs through Ol' Blue's speakers.  More often than not, the truck would be filled with corn syrup or apple boxes.  Dad would grin his sideways smile and say to me, "Don't be embarrassed.  Those apples are going to pay for your college education."  Try telling your 16 year-old daughter not to be embarrassed.  Go on, try it.

And now Ol' Blue is back in my life helping me out.

But how to get the house off the tree?  

Now in the story comes my kindly neighbor and his cousin.  I swear, God has blessed me by surrounding me with people who only want to help.  It really is amazing.  

Kevin did some prep work and removed all the windows so the glass wouldn't shatter during demolition.  He did really well till the last glass window.  The pane of glass slid suddenly from its frame and rained shattered glass on Kevin.  A shard hit him square in the face and he quickly used his gloved hand to staunch the wound.  When he pulled his hand away he saw blood and ran to the house screaming my name.  I quickly settled him in the bathroom with tweezers in hand ready to pull glass from his face.    

"Uh, where are you hurt?"

Kevin turned to the mirror, and chuckled to himself when he realized he had a teeny tiny scratch. 

Later that week my neighbor's cousin came in with his excavator.  He tied a chain around the tree limb and with simple ease pulled the whole tree house and it's limb free.  

I am sad to see the treehouse go.  I can easily imagine a young girl named Samantha playing with her dolls in that tree.  Maybe she imagined it was a sail boat taking her around the world.  Maybe it was her fort for the day.  Maybe it was just a quiet place for her to call her own.  Whatever it meant to her, I hope she knows that I will never forget her treehouse.

 

Bread of Life

Growing up Catholic I was surrounded by many metaphors about bread.  I would hear sayings such as, "bread of life," "breaking bread," and "bread from heaven".  That's the tip of the iceberg.  Do an online search for bread in the Bible and you will get hundreds of results.  And it is not just Judeo-Christian faiths that make reference to bread, but Islamic religions as well.  And it makes sense.  Bread has been eaten by humans for thousands of years.  

All you need for unleavened bread is really just water and wheat.  It probably wasn't long for ancient civilizations to figure out that if you leave flour and water by the window, it gets airy and bubbly, and now your bread is rising.  The art of baking bread as been passed from generation to generation for thousands of years to this very day.

I probably love home-baked bread because of my Mother.  She always told me she enjoyed baking.  It was something special that she shared with her mother.  And to this day, my Mom still uses the same vintage yellow Kitchen-Aid blender my Grandmother bought in the 1960's.  As a child, I used to turn up my nose at the color of that Kitchen-Aid.  Now about 50 years later it is back in style!  One of my best memories from my childhood is my mother baking a cinnamon-braid twist.  Oh, it was so delicious, I could barely wait for it to cool so I could start eating it!  

Now as an adult, I want to continue baking my own bread. There is nothing better than that sweet yeasty smell wafting through my house.  Not to mention, the smile on my husband's face when he realizes I am baking some bread.  Also, there is something about doing the exact same motions that my grandmother did that makes me feel a spiritual connection to the earth.

I usually bake Oatmeal-Molasses Bread from William Sonoma's The Essentials of Baking.  I use this recipe because it is sweet, light, and fool-proof.  I have never failed to make it rise and I am sure you all will have a lot of success with it.  It even worked when a goat walked into my kitchen, which can be highly distracting!

Oreo, what are you doing in my kitchen??

Is that fresh bread I smell?

Goats in the kitchen... that would never happen to Martha Stewart!

This post is dedicated to my Mom.  I love you!