I was on the phone with my best friend in Ontario when a call came through.
"I have to go. That was Theresa calling through -- I bet there's a baby goat being born."
Sure enough, the message told me to get there in 15 minutes because Bubbles was about to kid.
Despite taking the curves on the road at a higher speed than they're meant for, I missed the birth by five minutes.
"And you're sure there's no more?" I asked Theresa. "I'm not doubting you, you just thought she was carrying twins."
"Nope, that's it," she said.
As we stood around watching Bubbles lick her little boy -- an Alpine/Toggenburg mix -- I turned to fuss over sweet Violet who was nudging my leg.
"Sara, turn around," Mark said, and I turned in time to see another baby slide out of Bubbles.
It was a girl, and a good-sized one, too, considering how big the boy is.
"You want to name them?" the Wood family offered me. "We're at C for the boy, and F for the girl."
Talk about pressure! Come up with names on the spot. I picked Carter and Frankie.
That brings kidding to an end, and the final total to nine babies, all of whom survived: Three bucks and six does.
Already, the column I'm going to write about this is forming in my brain... Watch for it April 5.