When my babies Pebbles and Bam Bam were little, I got very sick with worms. I've mentioned that before. The human worked hard to save both me and Bam Bam, and when I recovered, she was nice enough to tell me I could have a year off from having babies to fully recover. She didn't realize that Grover had already decided I was going to have a February baby. That's Grover with the llama right after he came to live with us.
The silly human didn't know he had already done this and she kept saying dumb things like, "If I didn't know better, I'd swear you were pregnant," or "You need to get some meat on your ribs. I swear everything I feed you goes straight to your stomach." Not quite the stomach, Human.
Anyhow, she did finally figure it out. On February 20th, she even told her mom that I was going to have a baby. The next day, I went into labor. Okay, she's well meaning, but sometimes the human isn't real quick.
I really was hoping for that year off, but the contractions kept coming. No baby. Finally, the human went in after my baby and pulled out a giant kid. Honestly, it was the third largest ever born here. There was no ignoring the kid, even though I tried really hard. The human had already started calling my "little boy" Joe. The kid couldn't figure out how to nurse because of its huge size. It was cold, twenty-some degrees, and the baby was starting to get chilled. Finally, we got to move to the heated "Love Shack". The baby still wouldn't nurse, but when Joe squatted to pee, the human finally figured out my daughter was named Joe.
It took Joe a couple of days before she actually figured out to get down on her front knees to nurse me. Until then, the human would milk me, pour it in a bottle and then feed Joe. It didn't take long for the human to fall in love with Joe (me either). She is after all a very sweet friendly girl.
In the picture below Joe is about six weeks old (she's in back) and Belle (in front) was about two weeks old. That's why the human always called, and still does call, Joe "Miss Moose."
She would help in the barnyard by jumping on the human's back whenever she leaned over. She would bounce off the side of the barn. She even managed to jump over the bottom half of the barn door when it was open after she got a bit older. She just kept growing and getting bigger and sweeter.
Imagine my horror when she was not given a collar. She was going to be sold! Why? She did have a cough from when several of us had become ill with pneumonia. (I tried to kill Grover while he was down, but the human wouldn't let me.) Then there were her feet. She did not inherit her feet from me. She got her horrible ever-growing feet from her father. The frogs do not stop growing. They don't get flaps. She ends up walking like she is on platform shoes, especially in the front. It does put a lot of extra stress and strain on her shoulders. This was taken this May, after it had been trimmed several times since the freezing weather was done.
One day she and three other girls were loaded on the truck. She was gone for a couple of hours and came back. I asked her what happened because goats hardly ever come back. She said they were at the sale barn, but there were so many people that the human didn't want to wait for hours to get them off the truck. They got to come back home.
I warned Joe that she wouldn't get to come back home if it happened again. When the human started trying to walk her across the barnyard, she dug those overgrown feet into the ground and yelled, "Maaaaa." I came running and yelled, "Nooooo, My baaaaby." I kept yelling and yelling, and Joe yelled and yelled. I told the human my heart was breaking. Finally, the human just let her go.
Here's Joe during that gangly awkward teenage time. Don't tell her I showed you this picture. See how long her hooves look at an age when most kids haven't even needed a little trim yet.
I don't think the human was happy about keeping Joe, but she was given a collar. She kept saying it was stupid and wanted to know what to do with those feet. I just kept telling her that it would all work out. Silly human. Would anybody else keep a nanny that has to have her feet trimmed every couple of weeks? She's here. She's alive. She's happy. That's worked out!
The human and Joe started getting into arguments. The human would tell Joe she was 95% perfect, and Joe would argue that she only has four feet. That makes her 96% perfect. After a year of this silly argument, the human finally gave in. Joe is 96% perfect.
Joe still has the sweetest disposition. She is an excellent mom and raises big babies, but Joe is retiring to keep extra weight off those feet. That's Joe napping on her kids. Do you think the human will let her keep her daughter Bekka (in front)?
Every so often, when Joe doesn't want to walk on her feet, I have to remind the human that Joe is happy. All you have to do is look at her to know that. I keep telling her to trust herself to fix the feet. Now look that foot.