The goats were supposed to give birth a long time ago. Nothing for days, and eventually I forget to even think about it. Good that my friends keep bugging me: any kids yet? Annoyed I decide to get ready, just a symbolic exercise in futility. Maybe they are not even pregnant?
I get online and learn a lot of grizzly details about how a birth can go wrong. Panic sets in. I must go shopping and get all the necessities, in case things fall apart. As I am out shopping, Katia and Rosa (the goats) are peacefully doing nothing. The day is warm and slow, and I am back at my computer. After a while, I get an itch to go outside and take a photo of my goats. My arrival is met by Katia in full labor, with two feet and a nose already out! I panic again. Quick handwashing follows, with clipping my nails (fill in the blanks, why I may be doing this!) -
Katia is howling by now, pleased to have an observer. As I pet her, I turn around, I see the entire animal yard gathered in the doorway of the barn - chickens, guineas, turkeys, the cat, the other goat. Necks are stretched, eyes are shiny and everyone is wondering what is going on. The next moment the baby is born.
His name is Jesus ( Spanish pronunciation).
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