Then they began to die. The weather was cold but John rigged up a heat lamp. They were toasty. Some fell out in the cold and died. Then it seemed like the mother stopped feeding them. Maybe something happened to her milk. They lost weight. Their ribs showed. Then they were all gone. John and I were blue. Life on the Farm can get grim.
Maybe John will try a litter next spring. I hope so.
No comments:
Post a Comment