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Here I am again, talking about the same thing that has occured over and over again on our farm. Two new little lives, two new little heartbeats, two new little first breaths being taken in my hands....does it ever get old? Does it ever feel routine? Not yet. I still feel my heart start to pound as the doe is pushing, praying that the presentation will be right...two little front hooves and a nose. Praying for the doe and the babies, that all will be healthy and strong. Same place as a year ago. I still have the masssive white head of our Great Pyrenees, Teton, in my lap. "Yes, buddy, here we go again..." We lost Shasta this year so now it's just Teton to carry on. He and I wait patiently as the labor progresses. We both know the routine, it's always the same. I go to the milk room and get out the towels, hang them on the pen of the doe in labor. Get the iodine cup for the navels. Then we sit and wait. Teton and I. Last night it was Lilly, one of our Angoras. She was bred to a beautiful Angora buck named Romeo. It wasn't any time at all and we had a tiny white doe born and her sister followed right behind. She is a light silver color. Instantly I started to picture the yarn I would spin with that beautiful fleece. Both babies are healthy and strong. I made sure that they were both nursing and I gathered up the wet towels and headed out into the cold. Here I go again, back to the house, sometime after midnight, with wet towels under my arm and a bucket in my hand for the warm molasses water every doe gets after she has her babies. I've made this walk time and time again. I always check the sky, last night it was cloudy. Sometimes I am greeted with a billion stars. Does it ever get old?? I'll let you know in twenty years or so....maybe then it will be....Somehow I doubt it though.