Monday morning adrenalin rush
There's no feeling like the dread of seeing one baby goat still curled up under the hayrick while the other eight are hollering at the fence for breakfast. You know, absolutely know, that whatever happened is long over and you are far too late to change fate. But you run for it anyway, heart in your throat, chanting ohpleaseohpleaseohplease to yourself with every pounding step, and calling that kid by name even though you don't expect to ever get an answer again.
I got there, gasping with fear, and woke him up when I touched his head. By the time that I was recovered and my heart was back in my chest, he was just another of the milling throng, jumping and yelling for breakfast. His eyes look good (not anemic), and he is walking just fine. He just... overslept.
Pan just overslept. He was fine.
I got there, gasping with fear, and woke him up when I touched his head. By the time that I was recovered and my heart was back in my chest, he was just another of the milling throng, jumping and yelling for breakfast. His eyes look good (not anemic), and he is walking just fine. He just... overslept.
Pan just overslept. He was fine.