The Adventures of Naomie 37
Monday morning Naomie was dressed. Had breakfast and made lunch with extra water & thermos of coffee. An hour early she went upstairs to practice: She started out with her routine of the scales. She wanted to be like Rosie and fly through them with a smile. Rosie the concert pianist still started her day with scale practice.
Almost forty five minutes and there was pounding at the door. Matthew was there.
“Sorry the cell phone did not work for some reason. I hope you're ready we have to get out to the Garfield farm. Looks like one of the goats is in labor too soon. She was kicked in the belly last night by another goat. You ready?”
“Yes. I'll get my bag & lunch.” said Naomie.
“Lunch? All I have is coffee and some old MRI's in the truck. Let's go. I'll drive.
Arriving at the farm Mrs Garfield was at the gate to let them in.
“ The power is off out here. John is down at the goat barn with a couple of new hired hands. They don't speak much English. The rest of the crew is up in the high country with the cattle. I thought you'd bring another Veterinarian with you instead of this foreigner! How's she gonna help? Pretty skinny if ya ask me.”
Matthew started to protest when Naomie said “ The mother goat needs to keep on moving. I have a flashlight you can hold for me.”
Once at the barn Naomie went to work. She assessed the situation. Felt the mother goat's anguish and proceeded.
“Do you have any type of lighting such as oil lamps? I will need more than my flashlight.”
Seeing the two workers were Hispanic she spoke to them softly in Spanish asking if they had a musical instrument. Yes one a guitar. She asked if they could sing a soothing song in the background keeping the beat going for the Mama Goat to hear.
Yes they would. Dr Matthew Bell told everyone to listen and do as she said. “Dr Naomie Williams is an excellent Veterinarian and has been recommended to me by my brother.”
Naomie asked Matthew to stroke Mama while she explored with her gloved hand. Soon she said in Spanish: “ Keep singing I need to turn the baby.” To Matthew
“The baby is breech keep rubbing her. I will need light and some clean water. Any way it might be warm?”
Mr Garfield said yes he had a whole stove in the back full. Good and towels? Naomie asked.
Yes was the answer. Matthew with a quiet voice explained to the others what Naomie was doing. Mama goat was still vocal but not as loud. “Matthew it's been a half hour. I have it turned and now waiting for a hoof to appear. She looks exhausted. How are you holding out on your back?”
“I'm fine I wish I could help you massage. I know you must be tired.”
“I am getting tired. Mr Garfield, the young girl with you. How old is she?”
“That's my Granddaughter Caroline. It's her goat. She's in the back worried. She is ten. Why?”
“ With your permission I would like her to get behind the goat and rub her head. If the goat smells her and hears her she might relax.
This goat is very very tired and I do not want her to give up on these two babies. We need to relax her so I can get in there and help them get delivered.”
“Two?
Like twins.” said Caroline who had been listening in the background.
“Yes, if grandpa says yes and you stay behind her you might brush he head or talk to her. It will relax her then I can help.” said Naomie.
Caroline said she would hum and sing the song she always sang to her goat when she brushed her.
It worked and after another fifteen minutes two baby kids were born. The Mama did most of the cleaning up of her two new kids. Naomie and Matthew needed the rest.
Naomie praised Caroline and the two Spanish gentlemen for their soothing music.
“Matthew this was worst than the time I had to deliver a breech Water Buffalo outside of Kolkata India. I thought another Water Buffalo was going to charge me and put my lights out forever.”
Caroline had a big smile. Naomie smiled back at the little girl that reminded her of herself.
Naomie smiled and said: “Humor me for a while. I'm all cleaned up and need my thermos of coffee and a really yummy big gooey sweet chocolate snack.”
She had a vivid imagination and would carry it on for the rest of her life.
©Julia A Knaake