Spot

It really looks like Spot isn't going to make it. She is moaning, and occasionally trying to pass the afterbirth. We don't know how much she has passed already, since the chickens quickly clean up anything bloody that hits the ground.

We put her on a tarp and dragged her to a more sheltered area. Mary covered her with a blanket and left the kid with her. If she survives the night, we will be surprised. Mary says that when you work at a hospital, you learn that death has a characteristic smell.

We have been taking water, hay, and grain to her. At first, she greedily drank the water. Now, she just sips at it. She only nibbles at the hay and eats a little grain.

Mary is out there right now trying to milk some colostrum out for the baby. The baby won't nurse on her mom. It might be the smell of death, or it might simply be the fact that Spot isn't standing up. Instinct tells the baby to look up for food, and she does exactly that when we are standing next to her.

So... tomorrow will tell. Tomorrow is going to start out busy, too. I have to get the incubator out of the garage, select some eggs for it, and take it to Paul's second grade class. The other eggs need to be cleaned and taken to the food pantry. I'm too tired to do that tonight, so it's all going to be crammed into the beginning of the day tomorrow.