Uno died on the 1st.
She had gotten so much better, and we had moved her back out to the barn. Her respiration was still a bit higher then it was supposed to be, but she was doing fine. A few weeks later, my mother was worried that Uno might be slipping into a relapse. We had the vet come out to do a check -up on her, and though the vet wasn't impressed, Uno's lung that had shut down was working again. She prescribed some antibiotics.
Apparently, there was nothing wrong at next morning's milking. When I went out to check on the goats during the day, Uno was doing the same strange breathing; her tongue was hanging out, she was foaming at the mouth and bleating. I brought her into the garage. A few hours later, it had gotten severe. So I went to prepare some apple-cider vinegar water, and when I came back downstairs, she was on the floor, on her side, convulsing.
It was frustrating putting a lot of time and effort into her care. But I had prayed several times that if she was going to die, that she would go quickly. I miss her, though. The goats are pets plus milking, so we loved them like pets. I've been sleeping with part of her beard under my pillow. Someday, I'd like to learn to make goat stuffed animals, and maybe I could start with Uno first, and incorporate her beard into the stuffie.