Ada talks. She chatters, and converses all the live long day. The only time Tasha speaks is when she is ailing, or if something like a fluffy bunny has crossed her path. So, the other night when Ada was speechless, and looking particularly large... I mean even larger than she usually does after a happy day of feasting, I was concerned. Alex and I talked about her round(er) belly, but we agreed: Our chatty goat would be wailing and bleating if she were unwell.
The next day she was as big as before, and standing next to her svelte sister, it was obvious something wasn't right. Compounding my concern: Ada did not peep, bleat, or speak, she did not move... not for the open gate, the handful of molasses infused oats, not for a cuddle. She nearly retreated from my offer to brush her, but that was the only movement she'd make, no matter what. She stood, forlornly, pitifully, and I listened for healthy clues from her full belly... but there was no gurgling, no rumbles, or belches. Something in one of those four stomachs was not working.
And that is when I recalled another helpful post from my go-to guide for goats and chickens, Terry, at HenCam writes about her flock of birds, and her Nigerian Dwarf goats, Pip and Caper, she shares all kinds of tidbits, fun things, and practical advice, and I knew just the post I needed to revisit: Pepto-Bismol for Pip.
I gave her a second, one ounce dose at bedtime. The improvements were gradual, but steady and progressive, and this was a relief to see. After two doses, and two days, I'd say she was back to her feeling more herself.
Thank you, Terry, and Pip and Caper, too. From the heart of our tummies, we deeply appreciate your help.