Thursday 3/5/20, I got a call from the feed store that the delivery guy was panicking our goat was stuck in the fence. I figured it was our mischievous Roscoe being the ass he can be, pretending to be “stuck” so someone runs to his “rescue,” but I of course got in the car and was there within 10 minutes. I saw a couple local neighbor horsefolk in the goat pen holding Moe’s head up, so I thought, “Aw shit, he is stuck. Hope he didn’t break a leg.” Then I got in the pen…and dear God. Moe was having horrific whole body, minute-long seizures every 5 minutes, and it was clear almost immediately to me something was very, very wrong in his brain. In between seizures, all Moe could do was lie on his side, completely out of it, panting two breaths a second or thereabouts before the next seizure took over him. In hindsight, we think Moe got a leg stuck during a seizure, rather than the seizures starting after getting stuck.
Then comes the panic of what the hell to do–there are no goat vets around. My exotic animal vets that treat our reptiles will see goats, but you have to bring them to them, and I feared moving Moe at all. I called many vets, got many numbers from them of other vets that I then also called, but it was just spinning our wheels. I also called my husband, but understandably it went to voicemail as he was teaching so I called his school–the kind office lady told me she would personally go to hubby’s classroom to get him. Hubby was at the barn in remarkably quick order, and he lovingly tended to Moe, spreading out blankets, creating additional shade over our stricken goat, talking to him, gently rubbing water on his ears and chest to keep Moe cool, taking repeated blows from galloping legs during seizures while keeping Moe’s head and limbs safe from inadvertent injury. I’m tearing up typing this. I love that I am married to a man who loves animals like this.
The wonderful horse woman who had stepped in to help the feed delivery guy was willing to trailer Moe anywhere for us, but ultimately it was our equine vet who was willing to make an exception to see Moe on emergency. I’m so, so grateful he did–if nothing else, he helped us understand a little better what was happening, and in the end, that there was just…nothing we could do. He pointed out how the way Moe was seizing–head and neck arched back, with tremors starting in the nose/mouth that then spread through the body, leading to him galloping in place, then stiff legs, then quieting until ending with the nose/mouth again–indicated Moe had significant brain/neurological injury. He also showed me how Moe had a nystagmus, an involuntary eye movement indicative of severe neurological disease. It could be virus, parasite, bacterial, trauma (though he had no outward sign of any sort of head trauma)–we don’t know. But it was clear…there was no bringing Moe back from this. At least the vet could end Moe’s suffering.
When the seriousness of this became clear, hubby picked up both boys early from school so they could be present with our Moe. When it came time for lethal injection, I underscored to both boys they can stay and watch, or I can take them in the tack room–there is no wrong answer, no wrong way to do this. Our nearly-14yro oldest–who personally picked out Moe as his 9th birthday present–chose to stay; our 10yro youngest chose the tack room. Oldest was an absolute wreck, sobbing over his goat’s body; youngest sobbed quietly and just wanted to go home. At home, both boys grabbed their stuffed animals, with oldest asking for macaroni and cheese comfort food, and youngest asking to rewatch A Dog’s Journey–a movie about a dog reincarnated time and again to be able to stay with and look out for his people. <3
Moe had been completely fine and normal in every way the evening before when we fed–I have video of him curiously watching a hummingbird on the property. Heck, Moe was completely normal the same morning of the event, just a few hours before, when our barn helper fed. 
No diarrhea, no runny nose, no dull or weepy eye, no head tilt, no odd gait, no NOTHING abnormal whatsoever. Nothing new or weird in his diet, no toxic plants anywhere we can see, no sign of trauma, no…nothing. We’re still reeling. It was, without question, the absolute worst thing I have ever seen any of our animals go through, and we’ve had some real heartbreaking losses of horses, cats, and dogs over the decades.
Now Moe’s brother Roscoe is alone for the first time in his life. We have 2 ponies, but I know that isn’t the same. I don’t know about getting another goat, but it’s been suggested it’s better we do it sooner than later as it will be easier for Roscoe to adjust. Is there any truth to that? We’re still adjusting to the shock, but obviously we want to take care of Roscoe too. We do have leads on potential companion goats already.
