Just random musing on death and farming. We discovered that we had another dog attack and lost 12 chickens. Later we found the rabbits. Our buck is alive because he was in a cage but all the rest are dead or very close. That’s the worst part really. It’s not the rigor mortis-ified bodies that you pick up by ears or feet and try not to look at the dirt-covered open eyes. What really gets you are the animals that are still alive but shouldn’t be. Neil dispatched the two chickens who were hurt badly but alive. One had bled from open back wounds so much that when her throat was slit nothing came out. Same with the one who’s legs were so mangled she couldn’t walk, though she did try. Or my three baby rabbits that I put together in a crate so they would at least be warm, even though none of them can move their hind legs and I know I should go check on them to see when they pass but I kind of can’t bring myself to just yet. I would have had Neil dispatch them too but he was late for work as it was and they didn’t seem to be in distress, just tired.
Facebook didn’t disappoint. I got lots of sympathy and condolences and suggestions for run improvement. Honestly, the most helpful comment came from my friend who bought a goat from us. She told me which feed stores were getting in chicks and when. Super close second was the message about dog hell. And that’s the thing about farming and people who get farming. You swear a little bit at all the stupid stuff that life throws you and then move forward because there are other animals to feed, and a garden to water, and a schedule to keep. If you spend too much time moping and wringing your hands you miss the next shipment of chicks. I’m not done with the moping and the crying, by the way. I just have kids to take to gymnastics and that need lunch and I need to go to the grocery store. Death is weird like that. I understand what happened to us is very small compared to the death of a loved one…and yet I still have to change how I do things everyday and make decisions about how to move forward but no one else is affected at all. I hate that life is compelling me to keep going even though all I want to do is go back to sleep for the rest of the day.
It actually reminds me a lot of when Layna was born. I just wanted to sleep because that would mean I wouldn’t have to face Down Syndrome or make decisions or console other people while my heart was being shredded. But I still had a baby to feed. And diapers to change. And other little creatures that needed me to not fall apart. So to summarize: Stupid dogs, going to be crying on and off all day, tomorrow we make decisions about our farm, and right now business as usual everywhere except in my head. So glad the husband guy is coming home early.