I am struggling to write this post, and have started it twice now, I know that when we choose to write and share parts or glimpe’s into our lives in this way, its just that.. moments in time written up and shared.
Lets face it, its alot easier to share the good parts, the interesting parts, even the thought filled parts and we all love the funny parts but what about the painful or sad parts.. to share or not.. that is the rub..
I have been writing about the joy’s of my new lambs, and so I guess its only fair to write about the risk’s an sorrow that can come as well. This morning I went to the barn as normal, and was greeted with baa’s , baby bleats, grunting piggy and a moo’in calf.. only one issue, there was no second baby bleating from its jug.. at first this was not much of a worry,they can be sleeping well and not wake up right away, last check at ten pm, showed me a up and nursing little one snug in the jug with a attached mom.
However the mother didn’t come to the front of the pen to greet me and the fresh hay, grain and warm water, now that is odd, and she is standing over her baby all protective, who is still.. after I went in and checked, sadly he had passed away sometime between last night check and morning chores, and I feel the sting of tears in my eyes that I have somehow failed this little one, even as my head tells me, I have not, he has a safe warm draft free jug, a attached mom with milk, and two feet thick of warm clean bedding.. somehow that does not stop the flow of angry that comes at the loss of the beginning of a new life that has been cut way to short.. I will never see this little one bop or come running to see what I am bringing.
I walk away for a bit, I need time to get my head around it, I check everyone else, I feed, I watered, I patted and rubbed and milk my ewe, and I haul my sled down and do all the rest of the chores, in and out, hauling more water.. check all the critters one by one.
Finally, I put it off no longer, I need to do something with this little one, and I am saying right now, Do not read the rest if butchering bother’s you.. stop now..
I skin and butcher the lamb, the meat an bones will go to the hounds, the hide comes into the house, I clean it, salt it, roll it and freeze it for tanning at a later point.
Do I own up to the fact that I felt that sting of tears again while I did that hide, well I did. Did it stop me from making the choice to follow my rule of waste NOTHING, no it didn’t but sometimes that choice hurts to follow though on.






