The Making of a Unicorn

Jingle, one of our babies, had an unfortunate accident a few days ago and busted off one of her horns. I didn't know how bad it was until this morning when she injured herself further and presented with cross-eyed horns.

After asking the advice of people wiser than us, Jonathan and I held a brief management meeting to formulate a plan of action: He was going to straddle and pin down the head of our little masochist, and I was going to do the doctoring.

We amassed a bucket of tools: hydrogen peroxide, water, gauze, sterilized sharp knife, blood-stop powder, alcohol wipes, and a syringe loaded up with vitamin b complex. We also decided it would be a good idea to throw down a tarp so that Jon wouldn't have to wrestle with this girl in the mud. Annika came to assist as well.

Ya'll.

I've removed my own stitches, butchered chickens and turkeys, and even choked out a giant rat with my bare hands!

None of this prepared me for transitioning my goat into a living, breathing unicorn. When death is the goal, there's little consequence if you mess up. Preventing death? Totally different!

Adrenaline raced through my body like lightning. My hand trembled like a Parkinsons patient as I drew my knife from its sheath. I needed a minute to regroup and calm down. I put the knife away to clean up the traumatized area so I could see what I was doing. This gave me time to pull myself mostly together. I still probably took a little longer than necessary to get down to business but she's a little goat, Jon has big hands, and I had very little confidence in my ability to fix this goat.

Anyway, I did the best I could. Jingle is alive and living her best unicorn life now. I gave her some probiotic treats to help regain her trust and help her to heal. Now we wait and pray she doesn't get an infection.