Any day in which we lose an animal is sad and gloomy. Today was a particularly crummy double-whammy.
After treating a sick goat for the last couple of days, Aaron got out to the pen first thing this morning to discover she had passed overnight. Sadly, I don’t have a photo of her – a sweet little white gal with a green stripe that had been painted on her back by previous owners.
We acquired all of our goats at auction just 9 days ago. Unfortunately – in an auction setting – you never really know the history of the animal or the conditions they’ve previously lived in.
In this case, despite giving dewormer, probiotics, electrolytes, fresh greens, straw, hay and water – we were unable to help her recover.
Caring for a dead or dying animal is one of the all-too-familiar but never easy part of living on a farm. I recognize the feels well from growing up with plenty of cats, dogs, chickens, cows and more on our extended family’s farms. Particularly when it came to barn cats and our farm dogs – we would often lose one to the chaos of the dirt roads. And, it was always sad.
While sitting in the shade of the apple trees near the goat pen, we noticed one of the small chicks was struggling too. The chicks have been on a slow routine of integrating into the larger coop and flock – and, today, was their first day free-range near the garden.
The chick had been grabbed by a predator bird, larger chicken or cat and was laid lifelessly on its side except for the occasional spontaneous flail. We both sighed uncomfortably – knowing the best we could do was to save it from suffering, but neither of us wanted to be the one to put it down.
Days like today are not the greatest. They remind us to appreciate what we have for the brief time that we have it. They reinforce that all we can do is give our animals the best possible lives and environment we can provide while we have them. And, they serve to prove that all we can do is all that we can do.