So this might be the vary reason my doctors really hate to deal with me. It is a curse and a cure all at once. My attention to all the details makes them thankful, because I notice every little change and we can catch the big nasties quickly, yet that can cause anxiety for me and I'm sure them to with I didn't have their phone numbers.
So here is another example of my detail nit picking;
We have 10 babies born last week.
Since last Saturday they have gained overall, 488 oz. That's 30.5 pounds overall and that's roughly 3.05 pounds each. I think that's a good rate of gain since we like to see, what Sarah, about 10 pounds a month each.
These babies are fruit cake for hay. Grass hay thankyouverymuch that alfalfa shit is for horses or cows. I saw them eating hay as early as 1 day old and these 10 have already plowed through a whole flake. We have to modify a hay feeder for these little piglets. I think we'll need to add grain to their diet soon.
But not today. They all have sore shoulders and ears and a headache.
Shots, tattoos, and disbudding was on their menu for today.
Oh yeah, I can feel the love. Or not.
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