July arrived at the Farm in questionable condition. She takes her name from the month in which she was rescued from a horrible fate of neglect prior to an even more horrible fate of being eaten. With all the work to be done at the Farm, I have to admit that I didn't take much notice of July or her pygmy goat friends who arrived with her at first. In fact, it wasn't until something was obviously wrong with July that I began to spend one-on-one time with her. Since no one knew her exact history, the fact that she started to have difficulty walking presented a bit of a mystery. Over time, it became apparent that her issues went beyond arthritis and were probably neurological due to the nature of her gait. Soon, she couldn't even stand anymore and it was time for urgent action. I will always remember trying to visit with her the day before her trip to UC Davis. She was in the north stall of the Turkey Barn and as I entered she tried to get up. Her attempts became frantic and my heart went out to this little creature who seemed to be losing her will to live.
When she arrived at UC Davis they began treatment for an abscess near her spine, but the outlook was cautious. While it seemed that this was likely the cause of her rear leg lameness, it was unknown whether the damage could be reversed or whether it was permanent. She stayed at UC Davis for monitoring for several days before she came back to us. Every day I checked the medical update board for any news, but none of it was particularly good.
After returning, July was moved to live with the geriatric sheep in the hopes that they would keep her company. She began a regimen of physical therapy involving both assisted walking and range of motion, but as time passed, it seemed like her quality of life was declining. She would roll onto her right side and not be able to right herself and she wasn't showing any signs of improved strength in her rear legs. A decision on what was best for her was looming and her demeanor did not bode well.
It was on the afternoon of Friday, July 29th that I was able to make a joyful entry in July's physical therapy log. While I was walking her around with her rear legs held up, I could feel that she was trying to move them. The movement was devoid of coordination, but it was movement and a positive change in her condition. Suddenly things began to change dramatically. By the end of the weekend, more care givers were reporting the same experience. July had not given up on herself and we were going to be in it to win it.
In the days and weeks to come the PT log is filled with entries detailing her remarkable progress. The writers' happiness practically jumps of the page and there are several instances of emoticons and smiley faces. Soon July was standing on her own for brief periods, showing the ability to hold her weight. We set about converting a cart for her in order to allow her to get around on her own. I joked with fellow care givers that as soon as I finished with it, she probably wouldn't need it anymore - and I was right. She only used it in its finished form once for a test fitting. After that, she proved not to need it anymore. As much as I liked the cart (Including the bumper sticker which seemed perfect for a goat with horns), for once I was glad to have my work be in vain.
This was an amazing time for me. My first connection at Farm Sanctuary had been with Coco the goat who went through a rough recuperation. I had marvelled at the dedication of the organization to her recovery. I had visited her along the way and marked her progress, but I had not really been involved in making the miracle happen. Here, with July, I was really part of the team that was doing it.
It was a few weeks ago when it happened. I was cleaning July's bed in her stall when I caught a glimpse of something in the doorway. It was immediately familiar as July's face. Although I had left her on her bed outside after her PT, she had evidently gotten up on her own and come to visit me in the barn. My emotions felt electric and when Leanne showed up at the other door, I was so excited to tell her. As I did so, the hair on the back of my neck stood up and I had what could only be referred to as a deja vu
I have not mentioned this before because I do not want in anyway to overshadow the tireless efforts of the human care givers who worked so hard on July's recovery. Without this, she probably wouldn't be with us today. However, whenever I hear people refer to July as the "Miracle Goat", I feel the need to give thanks and to acknowledge that I believe that the nickname couldn't be more accurate.
July's miracle is still playing out and she continues to set new personal milestones. She is able to get around all by herself and she can even play the classic goat game of "head-butting". Perhaps most importantly, she has shown that she can smile and that makes it all worth it!
