A number of years ago we
were called to a farm that had fifteen goats tethered outside. The
old farmer who kept them for meat had died, and his daughters had called
us in. On ropes no more than a yard long, no shelter, no water and no
grass because they had been on the same patch for so long. Nine of them
were in late pregnancy.
It was winter 2001, freezing cold at night, icy
during the day and "foot- and-mouth" had just been declared. Because of
this we were not able to move the goats without a special licence that
took a week to get, your can understand just how long that week felt to us
all here. A Vet had to go to the goats to check they were not
infected, they had to be ear tagged and then everything had to be passed
off by MAFF before the licence was issued.
Some of the goats gave birth within the next couple
of weeks. Because of the malnutrition these kids were born dead or
died within hours. There had not been enough time to get them ready
for birth.
However the ones born later survived and now
live happily here with there mothers and the father of them all Mr Curly
Watson.
Crumpet was the youngest one of the originals, only a
few months old. Although small for her age she did well at first but
then developed problems walking, wobbly at first and then she had no use
of her back legs. We took her over to Leeds for a very expensive
consultation which resulted in news that she had a growth on her spine at
her neck and would never walk again, eventually she would not be able to
lift her head. She was always a very happy goat who shuffled round her
room so we decided that as long as she was not in pain we would support
her.
Every day she was transported to and from the grazing
fields via an orange wheelbarrow. In the evening, on entering the yard
where the rest of her herd gathered, we would wheel her through the goats
and she would butt them all from her barrow.
Crumpet has such a "gutsy" attitude to
life, like another goat who is no longer with us:
Jennifer Eccles: She was
riddled with arthritis, one leg shorter than the rest, one hip withering
away, yet every day she would be out in the fields come rain (with coat
on) or shine. Always trailing behind the herd as they returned to
base after a hard day in the fields! If any one of the goats looked
at her in the wrong way then battle commenced and if she hadn't quite
finished with them before bedtime then when you let her out in the morning
she would run (in her own way) straight to the other goat's room and wait
outside. The times goats have come out, trying to avoid her and
clearly saying "I don't know what you're on about, it wasn't
me!"
