Scooby Keith flies off to live with Aldo

My right hand old man, my independent browser–Scooby Keith–has died.

I knew last night he was not well. I opted to let him sleep in the chicken coop, away from the pigs who can often be so happy to snort out grain on the floor they inadvertently run over old men. When I left him he was alert and standing, but clearly not well. But Scooby and I have been through this so many times together. In fact, on his arrival, he was sick and that first winter I thought I was losing him several times, but we always pulled through together. I had a medication regime I did with him, with my vet's approval, and he was just such a little stoic fighter. Those first couple years, it seemed each winter he'd get some kind of pneumonia like symptoms, but this last year, even though we were in Maine, he didn't have a sign of it all winter. Even last night his symptoms were not that he was sick, they were that he was checking out.

I almost hated to get up. Arriving at the barn, he had made his way to the coop door, and was in an awkward position, but was still strong enough to bleat out to me.

I know this goat, and his language. I know when his bleats me, "I'm ready to eat" versus "Put more in my dish"; I know when he is content to be in the pig paddock for the day, or when he would rather be by himself out in the orchard yard. I know his "Hello," versus his, "Hey, I'm over here, come get me". And this morning, I knew his bleat meant,

"Help me, I need help."

I got him out and he couldn't stand, his head wobbled and he could not right it. I lay him down on hay and got him comfortable, covered him in more blankets and assessed him as the background of pigs, goat and near by donkeys all let me know that breakfast was late. I have done this so many times and I knew he was not coming out of this one, and that he was already in what the vet taught me is 'the death spiral'.

He was not panicked, but I knew what a survivor he was and hoped he didn't try to fight. I did my chores and came back, he seemed pretty near death, but he bleated out a strong bleat, without raising his head. His eyes were losing their feel to my touch, his mouth was getting cold. I opted to take him into the Cat Cottage for warmth even though he was well blanketed. I sat with him for a good half hour and I kept telling him,

"Look for Aldo."

You see, and some might remember, Aldo was a very old llama I took on. He was at the end of his life and his old mate had died. I adopted him from Sanctuary One, but Aldo came with his own sidekick, and that was Scooby Keith. Scooby just really liked Aldo, and on arrival, I tried various arrangements for Aldo and Scooby, so that Scooby could have a goat friend, but Scooby just didn't resonate with the goats. He liked Aldo. Then Aldo died one summer, a real blow to all of us. Scooby carried on, but I decided to move him to an upper barn, where he preferred to hang out with Boone. He slept in the hay barn at times but during the day, he ate with Boone. I guess he liked bigger animals.

So, today, I told Scooby to look for Aldo. It gives me comfort thinking of Aldo, somewhere, in some form be it large, white clouds calling out to his old friend. I sang my go-to song for the dying, "Over the Rainbow" with appropriate words for the hospice patient. I hope someone sings that to me on my big day.

Saying good-bye to Scooby has many other layers of grief for me, of course. I guess each death, in its own way, causes us to snip strings we might not be ready to snip, or are ready to snip, but are taken off guard how much their dissolving stings and resonates. Scooby's death is like all the deaths of the old farm rolled into one somehow. He is the last true elderly-elder goat that came from Oregon-Sophie is 11, Tripod is severely crippled and about 6, The Head Troll is 15+, and Wilbur-Moose-Goose are youngsters by comparison. So, Scooby Keith's death is loaded with reasons to cry today. And I did.

But mainly I told him how fabulous a sideman he was for me, how much I loved hearing his distinctive foot steps coming into the feed room each morning, where he ate by himself, away from the clamour of pigs, dogs, chickens and other Misfits. If it was warm and dry, out he'd go to eat leaves, on his own, content.

But mainly, I told him to look for Aldo.

I was cold and needed a warm me up coffee, so left him for a break. I knew he'd be gone by day's end or sooner. I had done all I could do for him, and he wasn't fighting it, he wasn't in distress. He was close to 17 and was...old. I left to get some coffee and my last words were,

"It's a beautiful day for this once in a life journey. Look for Aldo."

On my return, he was gone. And that instant, I missed him already.

{See all the past stories and photos of Scooby Keith.}

A video posted by Katherine Dunn / Apifera Farm (@katherinedunnapiferafarm) on Feb 6, 2017 at 9:01am PST

The survivor...Scooby Keith

In 2014, Scooby Keith entered my life. He was not the healthiest old goat I had taken on-but healthy old goats weren't my goal. He was prone to coming down with pneumonia type symptoms, and each time, he and I would beat it, together.

He of course came with his very own personal elderly llama, Aldo the Elder, who I miss greatly. When he arrived with Aldo, Scooby was very independent of the herd of Misfits, preferring to roam on his own, or hang out with me or Aldo. I always listen and watch a newcomer and try to see what their comfort level is.

So we continue the routine we have had for some time. Scooby currently sleeps with Eleanor and the piglets, and Sir Tripod Goat-the latter is also very much a loner. But when I feed the pigs and Tripod, I let Scooby out to be with me as I prepare all the other breakfasts. Scooby visits his own food dish, checks out the chicken coop and then lets me know when he is ready to return to the pasture-usually just about when I get back from feeding the sheep and equines.

Scooby is going on 16 years old and it shows. His coat is thinning as is the weight on his backbone. But he is still a strong little character. He hasn't had a cold situation for over a year. I am going to put a jacket on him for winter. I did that in Oregon too, but here of course it will be colder, but it will be drier which is a blessing.Cold is one thing, wet and cold is another.

Scooby is not the handsomest bloak, and as far as looks attracting visitors, he is at the bottom of the list. But I am so fond of him, he reminds me a lot of Lofa, and Old Man Guinnias who was also bonded to me not the herd, and did chores with me day and night.

I hope he can be with me into his twenties like Guin, that would be special, if he can do it.

Scooby's current bedroom mates

Change is chaos but home is where you hang your hat

What it comes down to is this-very few things are needed for a settled daily life. Shelter and a place to sleep well, warmth, food, water and the ability to have a routine to clean oneself and stay healthy. The animals show us this daily, and in the move, they were provided with all of the above, just in different surroundings. They took it in stride, and to most of it, so did we.

The move forced us to strip down to basics for five days on the road. Although we did have our iphones, but basically we were camping in stalls. But as I lay in bed this morning I was thinking about how unsettling a move can be, and why. Is it the fact the furniture is in different spots, or that you don't know what time the mail comes, or where the best place to buy printer ink is? Is it that nobody knows who you are as they drive by your house, and you as the newcomer don't know the histories of each house and the quirks of nearby locals?

The first days of a move in to a new home are chaotic-chaotic to the point that is exciting and like an adventure. The empty house we arrived to clear of any furniture or "stuff" was so soothing really. There was a certain smell too, that is now gone, replaced by our smell. The dust here now is ours, not theirs. As we sat on the back porch, our new go-to spot last night sipping wine, I smelled that scent the house had when when we moved in 2 weeks ago, but then it was gone, blown away in the breeze.

In the first days there are no bad memories, and no knowledge of nearby property owners you might have issues with. It was nice unpacking cherished items this week, and I started to get a feel for my new studio space upstairs-an all white room, including painted floors, a dormer room that faces the field and apple trees with an office space next door complete with a sitting alcove to gaze out at the same trees, and soon-the new barn and horse field.

As hard as we have been working, I am also taking time to sit, and enjoy my animals. They are all troopers. We put the old traveling Rosie stall in the paddock, I thought it would be a perfect hiding spot for short Misfits. In fact, I immediately showed it to Scooby Keith, because he likes to be with Boone, but the donkeys were being a bit rambunctious with him.

"Scooby," I said as I pushed him into the hut, "You can hide here if needed, just remember that."

Last night as the donkeys were out grazing and Boone was dozing, I found Scooby in the hut. He captured what I said above-a home is a place you hang your hat, and create a life around the walls you are surrounded by.

Scooby Keih makes love

Scooby Keith has made love to The Head Troll. I know, because I witnessed it, twice. I say "make love" because of any copulation I've witnessed here, which have been plenty, I must say it was a very gentlemanly encounter.

Scooby Keith is elderly, adopted from Sanctuary One with Aldo the Elder. Scooby had been neglected badly prior to joining Sanctuary One, and when he arrived here he was thin and not the healthiest chap due to that past neglect. He has always been a loner. I kept him down in the lower Misfit village, along with Aldo the llama for his first months here with us. But he was prone to go lie in the cold rain, away from the pack, even though he had ample room in shelter. He just seemed to prefer being alone. But at one point last winter, I knew he didn't feel well, and I started giving him a regime of vitamin shots and such, but he wasn't eating well at all. I talked to the vet and she said I was doing the best for him, but we opted to dose some penicillin too in case it was lung related. It took a few weeks before I took a breath.

He pulled out of it, but never has been a fast or strong eater.

So this winter, I decided to bring him up to the goat barn. I let him stay in the hay barn one night and he liked it. He hasn't left, except for sunny days, which are few and far between here in winter. In the last couple months he has put on a bit of weight, and is eating better. He also seems very content in his hay barn. The only other Misfit allowed in there is The Head Troll, as well as Marcella. Old Man Guinnias used to come in with me every morning. And once and awhile Goose gets in behind me, bringing Moose, then Earnest, and Wilbur and Eleanor and who knows what else and its pure chaos-shepherdess yelling commands and goats leaping here and there hoping Earnest will knock over a feed bin-which he would if allowed even 30 seconds on his own.

But Scooby is perfectly well behaved-leaving the cat food alone and never upending buckets of locked grain.

I thought I'd leave him in a week or so, but he really likes it. His personality has blossomed a bit. He's always been friendly, but with me over the animals. Maybe he was someones main goat. I think he likes the one-on-one he can have with me, and the Head Troll. They even eat side by side. Unheard of!!

So, Scooby had sex and I'm glad. An old guy needs love in any way it comes. Touch is important to healing.

And this is yet another example how care taking these creatures often means watching for small signs of happiness from them-or contentment. Just the small change of moving into another area seemed to make him very comfortable. I'm sure he'll be back in the lower Village come late spring, but for now, i am thoroughly enjoying our one-on-one daily encounters.

Say it with me now- "W love us some Scooby Keith!"

{If you want to help sponsor Scooby and other Misfits, you can do so at reward levels here.}

Autumn Fashion Show of Misfits

The Autumn Fashion Show of Misfits was a success, although quite exhausting for attendees and models not to mention the photographer who rallied against slippery mud and slippery goats to dress each one quickly to make it on the runway in time. The Misfits now have a great selection for the colder, rainy weather that might require outfits and we are all thankful for the generosity of our followers who sent us dog coats, pony jackets and old sweatshirts [which are remarkably useful on a farm].

If you don't see your coat in the fashion show, it is only because the models ran out of steam. And the upper barnyard of Misfits already had a little fashion extravaganza. I also have two now that will work for Victor and Sophie should they need them on top of all their curly wool some extra cold winter night. There are some very small ones that would work on Moose, or sick lambs if needed. Thank you, everyone!

So sit back, and enjoy the show!

A couple of scares with the elderly Misfits

There are many ways to help the Misfits: subscribe or donate at various levels, buy books or visit the art sale. We all appreciate it and the Head Troll keeps you in her private database.

I've had a week of elderly issues with two of our beloved Misfits. Last week, I found Stevie–who is very crippled and unable to totally straighten his legs-cast on his side in the barn. I was able to help him up and he was fine, as I got there in time. Stevie's paper work states he is about 8 years old, not ancient, but for a large goat in his condition he is entering elder statesmanship.

This morning I found him cast again, near the pile of old hay/straw you see in this photo. He likes to lie in the cast off stall cleanings, so he can be close to the barn, but also get some sun on a soft spot. I suspect he just lost his balance and rolled on his side and just didn't have the strength to get up. Righting him was easy, and I can still feel a lot of strength in him-but I must face the facts that he is slowly weakening in his legs.

I do not want to think of time without him, so I will soak up each moment with him, as should you. He is a very strong presence here, a very unique goat with a story of survival. For those of you who don't know, he was rescued in Southern Oregon, along with a small herd of 30-all in bad shape. Stevie was the worst off, unable to stand or walk since he'd been living on his knees for so long-because of neglected feet that left him with 10" curled toes. He'd been on his knees for so long that his ligaments had deformed [I am not a vet so I don't know if this is the proper term to use]. The Humane Society and a local vet donated an operation for him to enable him to at least stand and get off his knees. That was over 6 years ago.

I don't believe in keeping animals alive just because it is medically possible. It is not always right for the particular animal. And that is a call we all have to make with our vets and inner circle, and heart. When I first saw him, I wondered if this surgery had been the best thing for him. After living with him for many years now, I think it was. He is calm and enjoys his sun, food and giving his little pecks or kisses. He participates in the group when he feels like it. He is not an outcast.

But if he continues to cast and is unable to get up...this could lead to a stressful death in the middle of the night. The first time it happened, I wondered if Marcella had something to do with it-overplaying-but this morning I really felt it was a balance issue.

And then Scooby Keith went ill on us. Scooby is 13 and has never been the strongest goat, and never a strong eater of the supplement I feed the elders. He reminds me so much of Lofa, who I just adored. I was told by Sanctuary One when he came here that he liked to hang out away from the herd and stick near Aldo. But last Monday, he took ill, went off feed and separated himself out in the lower field. It wasn't anemia, he had good color. He had a bad fever. I treated him with the needed regime of the moment, which he is still on, and his fever subsided, he drank well, and now he is nibbling hay. But he lost a lot of weight, and he still seems somewhat off.

I truly believe that an animal knows -even for seconds-that a person is either helping, or is a threat. I know when I am giving shots and squirting stuff in their mouth it is unpleasant, but I feel they know I am helping. I just hope Stevie can stay a bit longer, and Scooby too, but it is out of my hands. I think it is easy to start putting human emotions in their heads-after all I do this in my stories, don't I? But my experience has taught me that the best thing you can give an animal is a consistent environment of safety and supplies [sun, shade, food, water, protection, vet/meds when needed], and communal companionship of their species. I try, it's all I can do. Whatever happens, they've had a good life here, and I've been so lucky to have been their caretaker.

The three refugees and one pig tail

Marcella has kept me challenged as she goes through her puppy hood–one example is having to keep some of the more debilitated elders safe from her playfulness and sharp puppy teeth.

The first elder I separated out was Aldo and Scooby–ony because when she was little I didn't want her to get kicked by Aldo. I think it would be fine now, but the arrangement keeps needing adjustment as Marcella matures [for lack of a better word!]. Scooby could handle her, but he really likes to be independant of everyone, most of the day anyway. So then I had to separate Old Rudy out, who is very crippled. He can't run fast and if he needs to move or head butt, he gets unbalanced. She had scraped his ears badly, so he was then moved into live with Aldo and Scooby.

And then came Professor Otis Littleberry, who had grown somewhat unkept looking, lost some weight. Then I witnessed it ll one night and realized Marcella had been running him around, and pinning him to play with him. He had scrapes too.

So they are the Marcella Refugees, and they are happy as clams. Their area shares gates with the main barnyard, but they are pleased to have their own area not bothered by youngsters. They actually have it made as their orchard opens up into one of the crossed fenced pastures. and hey, they neighbor with the pigs.

I sensed Professor especially is much happier being away from Marcella.

In time, Marcella will be a wonderful guard. Right now, she is being a normal 5 month old, learning, making puppy mayhem at times, but also doing a bit of guarding-when she's not playing with Earnest's poor tail.

If you like to hear about the antics of Marcella and her Misfits, please consider a small subscription or reward donation to help Apifera maintain the many elders.

Peaceful break

Take a break with me as I sit with Aldo and Scooby Keith this afternoon. Let me describe the setting for you. We are up in the middle field which lies next to the lavender field, where the sheep are grazing–we'll go there next. About 1/4 mile down the hill is the the river, full and rushing–you can hear it. There is sun and a light breeze with very warm air. If you take time to listen, you can hear the grass move, and grow. The latter is some might say is impossible, but it is the same as hearing snow, except it is grass.

When you're ready, we'll go see Aldo's flock.

More of The Great White

He is quite exotic for us all, so we are all admiring is unique feet and lips, watching him walk and lie down all seem like something out of a Jack Hanna movie. If you don't know the latter, I date myself.

The landing of a god

They have arrived.

The flock is not quite sure where this large white creature hails from- Earth or a far off galaxy?

Upon arriving Sunday, I put the odd couple in a paddock so they had nose touching with the flock, and the barnyard. Everything went smoothly and they are settling in. Scooby the goat is a dear, reminds me a lot of our old departed friend, Lofa Love. And the llama, who came with the name Kahilia which I am having a dickens of time saying...so he might gather a middle name to help me out sometime in the near future- is calm, but really observing and not ready for lots of hand holding at this point. But he very special.

So another odd couple joins us. I so look forward to getting to know them better.

We incurred some fees to adopt these two gents, and were lucky enough to hire someone to drive them up the five hour trip. Please feel free to toss a tip. It all helps a lot.