The baby goat had been born at our neighbor's goat farm just a few short hours earlier, and the mama was unable to feed him. Normally, on our neighbor's goat farm, the girl goats get names, but the boy goats don't, because they all get sold.
But that's not stopping Katie, who promptly named this particular boy goat Teddy.
George got down on the floor to play with the goat, and they ended up head-butting. Must be a guy thing.
Teddy was crying, but was refusing the bottle. George and I found the situation very amusing. We told the newlyweds this is nothing - just wait til that baby is their own human newborn! Anyone who has had the blessing of caring for a newborn knows the helplessness of a screaming baby!
George (who grew up raising sheep) jumped in to help. But Teddy still wanted nothing to do with that bottle. (though he did think our daughter Jessica's fingers looked promising)
Finally, both Kevin and Teddy fell asleep. And George told Katie that Teddy would eat when he got hungry enough. Which would more than likely be in the middle of the night.
Sure enough, at 12:24 AM, Kevin sent this text to his sister:
He woke us up crying,
drank almost 8 oz milk and wanted more,
peed twice soaking up 10 paper towels,
and now won't quit crying because he wants to play.
Hee, hee. Welcome to "parenthood".
And this may be just the beginning. Kevin and Katie own a VERY PREGNANT goat name Faith who should be delivering any day now. And by the looks of her, she at least has twins, probably triplets. Maybe even quadruplets.
Keep that milk bottle coming!