Zoë on the farm

Zoë, my Fox Terrier loves to be outside, wants to have the freedom to run, but will take off if not watched.  Rather than leave her in the house or in the fenced in yard, I've been making a concerted effort to take her with me everywhere I can and just keep an eagle eye on her. 

Zoë loves having newborn kids in the house, sniffs and licks them, and tries to play with them, right up to when they learn how to play in their very goaty way--by heat butting.

Obviously, she's become very leery of older goats (meaning, anything bigger than her) so, when she sees them coming, she goes the other way.

Wednesday I took her with me when I saw the goats in the orchard. I knew I'd shut them out of there, but they've figured out how to go through the woods, up the gully, and into the orchard to eat the apples. As I walked over to the goats, hoping to move them to the other pasture, Zoë explored.  It wasn't long before Beatrice, my herd queen, noticed a little white dog sniffing around and rolling on the ground. Before long, all the others had noticed her, too, and went to investigate. So there was Bea, heading curiously but purposefully toward that dog spot, and it became comical when she reached out her nose to sniff her.  By that time, more goats were curious and were heading her way.  Zoë, of course, headed back to the barn--with all the goats following. 

 Who needs a herd dog? I have a Pied Piper instead.

Beatrice...or Stressful day(s) on the farm

Since Leah kidded early, Beatrice decided to delay a day.  Friday morning, her due date, her sides had sunk and her ligaments were soft, but she showed not the slightest inclination to stay in.  Fine.  Out she went.

Saturday morning, she still wanted out, but there was something in her actions...just a little something...that made me want to keep an eye on her.  Sometime midmorning, I laid out my clothes and towels to take a shower.  As I headed for the bathroom, I decided to take one last look at Beatrice, and get her into her stall.  I just wasn't comfortable with her being out and the gate closed to keep the others out of there.  I called her and she came and immediately went into the stall.  Now that's different; Beatrice likes to be outside.  I knew the time was approaching.  I watched her for a few minutes as she stood quietly looking back at me. I thought, "I have time to take a shower," and went back to the house.  I checked my email, busied myself with odds and ends for a few minutes...and headed back to the barn.

Again Bea stood looking back at me, but as I watched, she turned and looked at her side.  A few minutes later, she pawed the bedding.  11:00.  She walked around a bit, lay down, and did nothing.  A few minutes later she started to push, and soon there was a nose and two front hooves sticking out of her.  Whenever she got a contraction, she'd push, but barely.  After 45 minute, she was still walking around with a nose and two hooves sticking out. I gave her 3 doses of Caulophylum 30C, 5 minutes apart, and within 15 minutes of the first dose, she pushed the baby out.  Well...almost.  The kid was hanging down with its hips still caught inside her, and she wasn't pushing.  She kept turning and I was sure she was going to swing that kid against a wall!  I grabbed her collar to stop her swinging around, rotated my fingers around the kid's hips to see if there was a malplaced leg, and when all seemed fine, I grasped the kid (pretty hard to do when they're so slippery) and when the next contraction came, pulled it out and down.  Birth, finally!  And a doe!  Beatrice loves to have bucklings, so I was very happy, even it it isn't a Sable.

Yes, we whisked her away quickly, after toweling her off a bit.  I "bounced' Beatrice and it felt like there was another kid in there, so I left the rest of the cleaning up to my son when he carried her to the house, and watched to see what would happen.

Again, nothing.  I milked her out, hoping to stimulate further contractions.  One side of her udder was almost devoid of colostrum, and the other gave me only 1/2 gallon.  Not good.  This doe usually freshens with a gallon or more.

After an hour I called my vet.  The second kid should have appeared by now.

"Scrub up and go in," she said.
"How far?" says I.
 "As far as you need to," she replied.
"How far is that?"
 "Oh, probably you won't have to go farther than a couple of inches of wrist."

Oh, goody.

I scrubbed my entire arm. grabbed hold of her collar with the other arm, and slowly inserted my fingers.  Nothing.  There are easier tasks than trying to put your hand  inside a goat's birthing canal while holding her with the other hand and trying to keep her still.  I finally just pinned her in a corner and against a wall.  The goo from her last kid was the lubricant, and I made sure I smeared it all over as I went in.  All the way to my wrist.  A little farther. I felt..something squishy.  I felt around a bit more.  Nope, no limbs, no head, nothing hard that would indicate another kid.  Must be just the placenta.  I extracted my hand, disappointed.

Shawn left and came back.  When he came into the house, he said, "I think you need to come in the barn.  I think she's having another kid.  I swear I saw something that looked like hooves and nose."
"Can't be," I replied.  "I felt around in there. There was nothing solid, just soft and squooshy."
"Come and look anyway," he said. " I saw a red bubble."

Now I was sure it was the afterbirth, and when we got out there, a small red sack was hanging from  her.  I saw nothing else, and neither did he.  I did not check closer, silly me.  "Well," said he, "maybe I was mistaken."  He left again,, taking my car to repair the struts.  I took the new doeling and put her in with Leah's two kids.

I spent the next hour or more heat-treating her colostrum. That's a chore in itself.  The colostrum has to be held at 135° F for one hour.  I did that by filling the sink with 140° F water, and checking both the temperature of the water and the temperature of the colostrum every 5 minutes, so the colostrum didn't go above 139° and turn into pudding.  Whenever the water temperature fell below 136°, I took out two quarts and added back in two quarts of boiling water. 

 When I finished, I went to the barn to see if she'd passed the afterbirth yet.  There in the hay stood a kid, wobbling on its new legs, still damp, and Beatrice licking the placenta.  I figure the kid, another doe!--had been born between 3:30 and 4:00, and most probably within the last 15 minutes.  I covered her with a towel and whisked her off to the house.  After a few minutes, she greedily took some colostrum and once she was almost dry, I left her with the brood.

Is there anything cuter than newborn kids? They stumbled and semi-hopped over to greet the newcomer.  Later when I went to feed them, they were all piled in the corner together.

 Beatrice's kids are strong! Violet's bucklings, Snowball, and Oreo took a couple of days to climb onto the low pallet.  Dandelion (#1 kid) and Dilly-Dally (#2 kid) were climbing onto it the first day.  Leah's kids look more delicate, Beatrice's kids look more stout.

The next morning I was up at 6:00, hoping to get kids fed, does milked, shower, and out the door by 9:00.  It didn't happen.  Violet is not an easy milker.  She stands quietly, but her teats are so small that it takes forever to milk her.  First there was the heating of the colostrum for the newborns and milk for the older kids, out to feed,  milk three does, warm packs on Leah for her udder edema, feed the horses and poultry...

Oh, forget it!  I let all the Guineas and Silkies out.  It was a beautiful day, they'd been in for weeks, and the snow was gone.  Let them fend for themselves today!

My sister and brother-in-law showed up to say Happy Easter to my mother, and Laura and I headed out to the barn so she could see the new kids.  Two in the corner piled up, one sleeping on the tall pallet, and ... the fourth was missing. I checked to see if she could have wedged her way under the door.  Nope.  We walked around and looked at the pallets lying one on top of the other, and little entryways into the innards.  Laura took one end, and I took the other, and we gently lifted it and moved it off the bottom pallets.  A little, dirty-faced goating looked up and mewled.  I lifted her oh-so-tenderly and carefully out of there, felt to assure that she was okay, and set her down on wobbly legs with the others, then we put back the top pallet...and filled every place of ingress with bunches of hay.  The nice thing about that hay sticking out is it gives the kids easy access to start nibbling.  There's a bright side to everything.

Bella in the herd

Bella was integrated more quickly than any other goat I’ve ever brought into my herd.  I usually wait a week or two to let them get to know the others through the gate, and to quarantine them in case they have parasites that could be passed on.  In this case, I saw where she lived, saw the health of the herd, knew when she'd last been wormed, and I transported her myself so I know she didn’t get chilled.

She was alone the first and second day, but was so upset and lonely that on the third afternoon I introduced her to Cassie, she being the youngest, friendliest, and probably the lowest on the totem pole.  It was so funny to watch!  Cassie reared up on  her hind legs, came back down, stretched forth her neck and touched noses with Bella.  Then she did it again, several times, as if to say, “Back off, you!  I’ll wipe up the floor with you if you try to hurt me.  Uh…are you friendly?” 

Within minutes they were fine together, and I left Cassie with her the rest of the afternoon and all night long.  Next day, since they had done so well, I introduced Leah, who is next on the pecking order.   

Leah tends to be a bit skittish, and I’m sure she was happy to be the established herd member, and therefore had a chance to be one up on this Newcomer, this Invader.  She and Bella went at it a bit more than Cassie’s introduction, but all in all it was all for show.  Occasionally Leah remembered that Bella was an intruder, but there was nothing serious about the head tossing and half-rears and head pushings that occurred. Mostly the three just ate hay and hung out, complaining loudly that they had to stay in. They stayed together for the next two days; then, the serious introductions began. 

Violet often stays apart from the rest of the herd.  Even so, I would call her Second in Command.  She’s more aggressive than Leah, and bullies her when she takes it into her head.  I removed Leah and Cassie, and brought Violet into the stall.  YeeHah!  The head butting was serious this time, and went on for at least 15 minutes, but since Bella had room to avoid her, I wasn’t concerned about leaving Violet.   Once things had settled down a bit, I brought Cassie back in.  Cassie is the peacemaker.  She’s so young and eager to get along with everyone, that she has a calming influence.  Violet was her companion when she was tiny, so they get along well.

Two days later, when all seemed to be settled, I let everyone out.  Now Beatrice was the only one left, and I wanted Bella to have plenty of room.  She surprised me.  Beatrice walked over stiffly…and Leah immediately gave way.  Not one rear, not one head butt.  Beatrice is boss and Bella knew it.  Bea didn’t immediately accept her, of course, and swung her head at her now and then, but for the most part, Bella was ignored, deigned too little of a threat to consider.

The three Sables.  It's hard to see Bella behind Violet, but she's there.

Time to scratch.

I won’t say that Bella is fully integrated into the herd.  She’s still a newcomer, and still lowest on goat hierarchy.  However, she comes and goes with the others during the day, and she and Cassie are stalled separately at night.  For now, I think that’s the best way to give her a break and still let her find her place in the herd.  That safe time will be especially important after she’s bred next week.

Beatrice, Bella, Cassie, and Leah.  Violet's at the hay.

Changes

Sanuba has a new home.  It was hard to part with her, but I'm back to four does, now, including Cassie, Leah's Sable kid, but I feel very good about Daryl, and I think Sanuba will be loved and appreciated.  And probably, head honcho, as she was here. ( A little trivia here:  Did you know that honcho derives from a Japanese word meaning "squad leader"?  Little did I suspect...)

Beatrice's bucklings are going to a good home, together, as wethers, which makes me happy, since I hate putting kids in the freezer.  I just don't eat enough meat to make it worthwhile, and it's hard to butcher an animal that I've gotten to know. Since they're not bottle babies, I haven't spent as much time with them.  Since I'm separating them from Beatrice at night, I've been going into their stall and getting to know them.  They've quickly lost their skittishness and have discovered the jos of scritches and scratches.

Twins

Beatrice kidded on May 7th, two white bucklings.  No color, so either she doesn't carry the color gene, or it didn't show up in that breeding with my Sable buck, Ike.  It was an easy delivery, much easier than her last two.  She delivered both kids within 10 minutes of each other, after a short noticeable labor, and passed placenta within 1/2 hour.  Because she's CAE+, I gave her Apis during her labor, but it was unnecessary, as she didn't show any signs of congested udder and never has.

After several days of rain and mud, the bucklings got to go outside for the first time.  After a bit of exploration, they settled down in the shade of an outbuilding.  Beatrice hardly noticed their absence, she was so busy chomping down grass.

Goat life

Beatrice was bred to my Sable buck on the 6th.  She's so different from Leah!  Leah screamed and hollered and left no one in peace.  Beatrice just gives plaintive, sad little bleats, as much as to say, "Oh, poor me! Woe is me!  I feel so baaaaaad."  Presented the buck rag, then off we went in the car again, Beatrice gamely standing for the entire 35 minute ride.  Was she a horse in another life, I wonder?  She doesn't seem  to think of lying down.



No matter.  She thought Ike (Patina M&M Eye Candy) was cute as can be, and he thought her divine.  I left her there overnight, picked her up in the morning and oh! my! she just reeked of buck!  The other does gathered 'round her when she entered the barn, and I'm sure they all had a nice chat.

Today's the 13th, and Leah hasn't presented any signs of heat, and I doubt that Beatrice will again, ether, but I'll be watching for them.  Now, Sanuba (aka Snub), on the other hand, is due for heat in a couple of days (my does did NOT synchronize this year!), but she won't get to meet Ike.  Instead, I'm measuring her milk to see when I can put her on one milking a day.  So far, she hasn't dropped to half of her peak level yet, so it's still twice a day.  I'm sure she doesn't mind, though:  she gets fed grain twice instead of once, not to mention the occasional apple or carrot.

Speaking of odd treats, Snub is the only one of my goats--ever--that doesn't like fir or pine boughs, or the occasional piece of bread.  She marches to the beat of a different drummer, probably one from the Nubian desert.  She's more aloof in other ways as well, and, while none of he goats like walking in the mud, Snub will wail about getting her feet dirty.  I've actually had to lead her through the barn and out a side door to get her to the pasture, because she just won't walk through the mucky stuff.  Thank goodness for frozen ground in the morning. She's able to trip out to pasture without mussing her dainty feet.  I chuckle, tongue in cheek, but Sanuba really is my most elegant doe, regal and calm.  Beatrice is the Queen.  Sanuba is the Empress.

The Empress and the Queen holding court

Milking Made Easy

I'm now finishing my second week with the Henry Milker, and the more I use it, the better I like it.  If I'm in a hurry, I still hand milk, because it's faster, but I've found there are certain advantages to using the milker--over an above saving my hands, that is.  I can go off and check commotions in other parts of the barn, usually caused by my rambunctious Fox Terrier terrorizing the escaped bantams; or I can fill water buckets, checking the pressure on the milker every couple of minutes.  I've even done a quick cleanup of horse poop in the center aisle of the walk-in portion of the barn, fed the geese, and collected eggs, all while the Henry Milker was doing its job and my doe was placidly munching her grain.


Using the milker couldn't be easier, and I'm appreciating the large teat cup for its comfort to my doe, while still maintaining enough suction for the milker to work.  The teat cup is much larger than the "large" size that I got with the Maggidan's, and I was concerned that it would be too big. Not so!  And I think Beatrice appreciates not having her teats squished inside a smaller syringe.  Since I consulted with Mike Henry, I've upped the vacuum pressure that I use.  It's still not quite up to 10 lbs, but higher than I had it before, and instead of a steady trickle, the milk is now delivered in a rushing stream.


The process is shown below.  Just click on the photos to see them full size.  Altogether, so far I'm very happy with the Henry Milker.

Beatrice before milking. Her udder is fairly full.

Attaching the teat cup to the right teat. 

Starting the flow. The pressure is around 6 or 7 lbs and it's already flowing nicely into the half-gallon Mason jar.

The Henry Milker keeps working and I can go water the geese.

There's always an audience.  "Whattadaya doin?  Can I watch?"

Time to switch teats, and only 3 minutes have passed.

Empty udder.

"Are we done yet?  My grain is gone."  Beatrice is ready to get down.

The jar on the right contains the strippings, less than a cup, while the milking jar contains a little over 5 cups.

3 lbs 4 oz, most of it easily extracted by the Henry Milker

Hay feeders at last!

Beatrice and Sanuba at the stall feeder

 I finally got around to making feeders a few weeks ago.  Why I put it off for so long, I'll never know.  Previously, I was feeding hay with haynets, and I'd untangled goat heads and legs a couple of times.  The possibilities for problems seemed to be lurking just around the corner.  What a difference it's made!  Hay waste has gone waaaay down, and stress levels among the four goats seem to have waned as well.  The stall feeder is straight up and down, while the walk-in feeder (they can come and go from outside to barn) is slanted.  I really haven't seen a great deal of difference in waste between the two of them.  Since there's plenty of room for each goat to get to the feeders, they aren't trying to chase each other off nearly as often.
The things you can make out of spare pallets!  Life is good.

Walk-in feeder, front view

 

Walk-in feeder, side view

First day out

Beatrice has been teaching me.  I tried to get her and her new kid out a couple of days ago, but Bea wasn't having any of it.  I was premature, obviously.  The kid was still learning to use her legs.  Given the opportunity, she took her kid right back to the stall and asked me to close the door.

Yesterday, she decided it was okay to go as far as the barn aisle.  Little Heartbreak was now able to jump and run, and loved exploring, but Bea didn't want her going too far.   I knew that something had shifted when she came out of her stall last night to milk and left her doeling lying comfortably in the stall, no hesitation.

And today, Day 5, was Introduce the Kid to the Herd Day.  Within a few minutes of coming out of the stall, the doeling was hopping onto the milking stanchion, and after Bea was milked, they were out the door and over at the fence, where the other goats were able to check out the kid safely.  An hour later, I let Emily in with them.  Heads butted!  Bea was not going to let Emily near her kid.  It took a couple of hours, but by afternoon, they were hanging out together in the small pasture, Emily keeping a respectful distance, but still close enough to observe.  She eventually decided she'd spent enough time away from the large pasture and asked to go out.

Bea headed back to the barn, where her kid found the horse's round tub was a perfect size for a nap--if only Mom would let her sleep!

Tomorrow, Sanuba gets her turn while Emily stays out.  Slowly but surely, they'll all be integrated into the small herd.  It'll be a bit longer before she's allowed around the horses.  Magic is still too much of a wild thing to trust her with such a small kid.

Beatrice kidded last night, one little doeling. Actually, one good sized doeling.  I weighed her this afternoon and she weighed nine pounds.

Around 11:30 yesterday, Beatrice wanted to go into her stall.  I let her in, took her out a while later and put her in the kidding stall, but she didn’t want to be there, so I put down fresh bedding in her regular stall and put her back in there.  Then I let the horses and yearlings out, and opened the stall gate for her.  She just looked at me and didn’t move. I closed the gate.  A while later she started moving around.  By 3:00 it was obvious she was going to kid soon.  Her udder was looking much fuller, she had deep cavities in front of her pelvic bones, and her ligaments had softened.   Around 4:30 I was sure she was going to kid in  an hour or less.   

At 6:30 I wondered what was happening, if anything.  She was definitely in labor, but it was slow going. Around that time, she presented a bubble, but it looked like a red bag delivery—red bag instead of grey.  Oh, no!  I went into the house and when I came back, the water had broken--whew!  Maybe it looked red, but not a red-bag delivery (placenta previa).  A while later, I went in the house againwhen I came out, Shawn said she’d pushed out two front feet and a nose.  Now there was nothing.  A few minutes later, I saw a hoof, then nothing.  This went on for the good part of an hour.  I went into the house again and washed my hands thoroughly, then came back out felt shallowly to see if I could feel a malpresentation.  I backed off after 2-3 inches, went back into the house, called two different neighbors with goats—both out. finally drove to my house to get the phone number of someone else.  The phone rang; things still weren’t progressing  I grabbed the phone number, called on the way: no answer.  I was just driving down the lane when the phone rang again.  "Yes?"  Shawn's voice said, “The feet and head are out, and everything’s going fast now.”  I parked the car and ran into the barn; there was the baby on the hay.  She’d been born about 45 seconds before. We checked the time he’d called and it was 8:04.  A strong doeling, she stood within 3 minutes.  And then I saw that she has an undershot jaw.  Parrot mouth. Bummer.

 

Bea lay down with her kid this afternoon, and though she got up a few times after that, most of her afternoon and evening was spent lying down. She ate alfalfa pellets willingly, and I gave her grain and herbal wormer as well, but she hasn't touched her hay.  I only milked out less than a quart.  The colostrum doesn’t seem as thick as last year, either, and her udder feels full—is it “meaty”?  Yet two other people thought she looked empty.  Baby is nursing well, jumping little hops, and getting stronger. She's cute in spite of her mouth problem.

Forsythia, gardens, and goats

The forsythia are in bloom!  I've never seen them come in this early.  It's time to plant peas, and lettuce, and spinach, and onions, and here I am not ready.  Spring always seems to sneak up on me, even when I'm looking for it.  Rural Living Day classes are tomorrow at MOFGA, and perhaps I'll come back with some gardening solutions to my raised bed and low tunnel questions.  By Monday, I need to be planting.  The weather has been unseasonably warm for the past month or more, but it's dropping into the low 50's over the next week.  That's a good thing, because I don't want to see fruit tree blossoms nipped in the bud.

The grass is coming in green and sweet, and the horses and goats are out every day for a few hours.  The two yearling doelings quickly escape, since there's no real fence to stop them, but as long as the barn door is closed so they can't get in and eat the grain, I have no problem with that.  Alas, my mother is concerned about her flowers. 

I worked on the electric fence a couple of days ago, but I still have an electric leak to ground.  I suspect it's because the ground rod is so close to the hydrant.  I need to move it, at least 50 feet away.  Then I need to run the wire and make the fence secure.  I know what my work is for next week.  I have most of the small pasture ready to hook up, and just a little portion to get small wire around so that it's kid-proof.  Time to build a small shelter out there, too.  I have only a couple of weeks before my does kid.  Sanuba is getting very round, and just in the past couple of days!  Beatrice still doesn't look that big, but since she's usually so slab-sided, it's easy to tell she really does have a kid or two in there.  She doesn't look very big from side to side, but she looks deeper, as if her belly is lower to the ground.  If she has more than one kid in there, they must be one on top of the other rather than side by side.  She's only had singles the last two times, and this is her third freshening, so it'll be interesting to see if she has twins.  I checked ligaments tonight, but she's still tight, thank goodness.  Last year she was 10 days early, but hopefully she'll go full term this time.

I'm looking forward to having milk again, and my mother is so looking forward to seeing the kids jumping around.  She'd have them right in the house, given her way!  Ah, spring!  The way life should be!

Time to catch up.

The summer fled by, the fall is gone, and we're right in the middle of a cold Maine winter.  I now have four goats. I added an Alpine, only to find that I really prefer my Saanens.  Ali is a beautiful doe, registered, belted Chamoisee, but her personality is much different from the others.  Where the others want to be outside, she wants to hang around the barn.  The others are sociable with each other as well as with horses and humans.  Not Ali.  She wants to hang out with people.  She's also a very dominant doe, so it took a while for things to calm down after she came.  Now she and Beatrice share a stall and Emily and Sanuba share a stall, and all is quiet.

Three goats are bred:  Ali is due April 1st and Beatrice is due April 20th.  Sanuba may be bred.  I thought long and hard about whether to breed her.  She was, after all, only 8 months old in November; but she's a big girl, and weighed about 100 lbs, so on the last day of her heat, I put her in with the buck.  She ran from him, butted him unmercifully when he got too close, but he finally cornered her and she never came back into heat.  If she's bred, she's due on April 26th.  Emily, aka "Tank", can wait until next year.

It's mid-May already, and I haven't planted the garden yet. The fiddleheads are almost past! Where has the time gone? As usual, spring is galloping along faster than I can keep up, and time, that awful thief, is picking my pocket once again.

But since this is my first blog entry, it seems only fitting that I should introduce all the furred and feathered inhabitants of Crooked Shade Farm.

First, the two horses, Winsome Angel (aka Angel), my Arabian X mare, 18 years old, the matriarch of the farm animals. Angel's been with me since she was two, and we've learned a lot about life and each other in that time. She's my "everything" horse, and she does it all: trail, dressage, jumping, barrels, pole-bending, and even vaulting. What she likes best, of course, is being a pasture ornament, and she does it well.




 Pyxylated Magic, Angel's daughter, is in the D registry of the American Trakehner Association. I used to call her Pyxie, but, believing that beings grow into their names, I decided I didn't want to encourage her naughty ways. Magic is still somewhat of a brat, but I have high hopes that she will truly be a magical being as she grows older. 

Next come my three goats. Beatrice is a 2 year old Saanen doe, and freshened for the second time in March. Her buckling left shortly after, having been traded for pruning of a couple of apple trees, and now facing a longer and better life than he would have had otherwise. The same day, I brought home a little Saanen/Nubian doeling, born on the same day as the buckling. Sanuba is the inquisitive, feisy one of the group, always greeting the horses on hind legs, or challenging the roosters.  Sanuba and Magic are best buds.  Angel isn't so sure she really likes having them around.  Perhaps that will change as time goes on.  Angel is usually pretty easy going.


Two weeks after Bea kidded, I bought another little Saanen doeling, Emily. Honestly, Emily told me that was her name. I actually had no intention of taking her home, being more interested in a larger doeling that was posing just like a little show goat, but I picked up the little doeling that kept coming over, just to see how far along I could expect the horn buds to be developed on all of the doelings of that age, and suddenly I heard the worlds coming out of my mouth, "I guess I'll take this one."


Emily is the climber. I find her in places that the others don't even think about, and I've had to take a serious look at what she can reach in the barn if given ample opportunity.

And talking about Emily, it's time to feed her, so I think I'll finish this later.