Rule #1 of living on a farm: Things rarely, if ever, go as planned. You would think that by now I would know this but, to be quite honest, I think there is something in my brain that just completely ignores it and goes on a coffee break. The arbitrary "plan" was that we really wouldn't expect any baby action in the goat world until Friday or Saturday, but... So my Monday morning started off like every work day morning: I'm a semi-early riser by default, I stumble down the stairs toting mini blind dog Marla in one arm and a water bottle in the other, trailed by my 100 pound white fluffy Pyrenees sidekick Casey (who would sleep until noon if left to her own devices), to greet my earlier rising husband who has been up for at least an hour. And Seife. Oh, bouncy bouncy getupinyourbusiness soap dog Seife. He's always that way too cheery one in the morning. Fast forward a few minutes and I have coffee in hand, mini dog has been walked, slippers have been traded in...