Seems there's always a slow one.
When I went out to look at the twins in their first half hour yesterday, Cookie (the paint with chocolate pants) was already on his knees nursing.
Grant needed a little intervention! He kept going to the wrong pair of legs, nudging anything and everything but an udder. The more you try and push them in the right direction, the harder they fight going the opposite way (Boy does this sound like child rearing!). So after giving it a few tries, we left him to his own devices overnight.This morning it was the same story with a hungrier cry. I had a plan. I milked just a small amount into a cup, no simple task with Zola! - and then using a small syringe, pushed some of the warm milk into Grant's clenched lips. Honest to goodness! You would have though the first amount was poison until he swallowed it. Then, all of a sudden, he got it, but the result was, he came to me and nudged my leg. Dang! He know where that milk came from. ME!!
Well I was not going to have a bottle baby, but I gave him the rest of the milk first. He gobbled it up and now was crying for more. I got him to fold his knees and stuck his yelling face next to a teat and all of a sudden -he hung on.
Mom encouraged him and he kept going with a few fits and starts.
My work is done!