Disclaimer: Nope none of these cowboys are owned by me, dang it.

A/N: I haven't seen as much of the show as I would've liked. Still I hope this keeps true to the characters and spirit of the show. Hope you enjoy.

Cowboys and Critters

Chapter 1: Raising Kids

The weary cowboy sat on a bale of hay; head in his hands his shoulders dropped under the world's weight. The darkened barn was a familiar place to collect himself. Soon he would need to enter his home and face his worried boys. Without his wife's strengthening presence he need time to find new strength.

"Daddy?" a small barefooted and pajama clad blond boy stepped in front of him.

"Ford what are you doing out of bed?" the Cowboy asked slipping his discarded jacket over the small trembling shoulders.

"When's Mama comin' home?" The little guy's lip trembled and blue eyes filled with tears.

He gathered his now second youngest son in his arms speaking soft word of reassurance.

"But she needs ta see Snowflake's babies," the small towhead sniffled into his shoulder.

"Right now she needs to take care of her own baby, son." He rubbed his small son's back.

"Why'd Guthrie hafta come early?" the young boy probed unhappily looking into his eyes for answers.

Wincing slightly before he chuckled softly he explained, "Sometimes babies don't like to wait, especially McFaddens."

"But that made Mama sick," The little boy sobbed, "And now she can't come home."

"Now son, it's gonna be okay. Your mama and new baby brother will be home soon, good as new," He smiled down at Ford, "Besides you know your Mama loves baby goats. Wild horses couldn't stop her from seeing them."

Sniffling the young boy whispered hoarsely, "I want Mama."

"I know cowboy," He arms tighten around his son, "Why don't we go check on those dang goats."

Hand in hand father and son walked over to the stall where the new mother rested with his two kids. Snowflake was a smaller white goat and a first time mother. Her two babies, which Ford had christened Snowball and Brownie, had been born yesterday morning a day after his seventh son's early arrival.

Opening the gate he watched his son skitter in; greeting the goats by names with plenty of petting to go around. The darker kid wobbled up to bask in Ford's attention while the smaller white one just watched from it place in the straw. The experienced rancher that was the older McFadden had warning bells sounding in his head. Watching his son romp around with Brownie his concern only increased. Ford ever intuitive stopped his playing looking between his father and Snowball. Brownie, who still wanted to play, jumped on top of his sibling. A weak bleat was the only resistance given; causing Ford to shoo away the bigger baby. As he gathered the goat in his little arms his tearful blue eyes looked once more towards his approaching father. Squatting down the rancher examined the small creature for obvious ailments.

"Daddy?" He wearily turned to his son.

"Son, Snowball is…" he hesitated what could he say. The goat was sick like his Mama or small and weak like his new brother. What would that do to his boy if the goat died? He was now determined to save the small goat, for his son's sake

Swallowing hard he started again, "Ford I need you to go get the milk bucket and a clean rag."

His son nodded solemnly before carefully passing Snowball into his Father's arms. Taking off to accomplish his task; another weak bleat followed after his son. Breathless and red faced his son returned promptly; under his instruction Ford milked Snowball. Carrying the small goat out to the hale bale he sat down; his son followed his lead carrying over the milk bucket. Working together father and son took turns squeezing the milk soaked rag into the small mouth.

The lethargic movements of the baby goat dwindled down even more as they worked. Ford sat, pajamas covered in straw, stroking the weakening Snowball in his lap. He held on tighter to the goat then the goat held onto life. What seemed like an eternity of struggling but not even close to enough time to prepare his son the two fought the inevitable. The father tried to spare his son even a little by trying to take the dying goat out of his young hands. But McFaddens are stubborn, and the small arms held on even as the tears flowed. The bleats silenced and the struggling ceased. Ford curled into the spotless white fur and wept. The older McFadden pulled his son into his lap, goat and all. He couldn't protect his son, so he just held him while he cried.

Eventually he took the goat from his son's numb arms; placing the body under a tarp until it could be dealt with. Pulling his son once more into his arms he felt him grow heavy in sleep. Sighing he cursed life's lessons, especially to the young. He carried his son back to the house.

When they reached the porch he was surprised by Ford's quiet voice, "Daddy why'd Snowball have to die?"

"Son, I don't know," he spoke sadly, "Sometimes God just needs someone new in heaven, it seems."

"God doesn't need Mama and Guthrie, does he?" Ford asked distressed.

"No, not right now. We still need them here," He turned his son's face towards his; rubbing his head.

"Good," Ford sighed in relief.

"Can we bury Snowball tomorrow?" Ford asked as they walked through the front door, "Mama never even saw him."

"We will deal with everything in the morning," His father soothed as they went up the stairs.

Wiping at Ford's pants and back his gently tucked him into bed. Looking around at the room's occupants he smiled at his sons.

"I wish God didn't need new people in Heaven," Ford confessed as he dropped off to sleep.

Dropping a kiss to the blond head he whispered, "Me to son, me to."

A/N I've read some stories with Ford and goats so I thought I'd give it a try. Each chapter will probably be a one shot of a brother(s) and animal(s). If you have any ideas of something you'd like to see let me know and I'll try to write it.