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Farmette 1769

by Monica Melograna-Ward

And every creature has its unique life span. This blog was originally going to be a few pics and descriptions of some poultry that we acquired recently. But, unluckily, I discovered that our little YoYo had passed away the day that I started writing this one. The finding had greatly saddened the day and I did not feel much like taking photographs.

She was our little pygmy goat girl that we had kept back from Abbey’s Spring twin does. She was the runt of the two. YoYo was not nearly as active as her sister, but active enough. She ate and drank and trotted around with the other goats.

YoYo turned 6 months old on September 10th, 2012. She was so, so tiny (maybe 10 pounds). There were little stumps where her small horns should have been. Her build had become that of an adult, but she never got to growing upwards.

Our little girl had seemed fine the day before. Her plumbing was working fine. She was happily eating her hay and grain, along with some vines that had been pulled while I weeded the garden. There were no signs of illness or pain.

It was as if someone had turned the “off” switch. There were no injures. After gathering myself a bit, I took a good look over her. She was not hurt. There were not cuts, bruises or anything. Evidence supported lack of trauma, disease, parasites or toxin. It did not appear that YoYo had done anything but just stop living. Maybe her sweet little heart gave out due to her stunted size.

The shock of it overwhelmed me. I had always worried about her a bit, but she kept up with the big goats just fine and was a happy little animal. When our mischievous Shetland pony was exiled to the fenced yard (for sneaking out of the front pasture), she had stood underneath him to eat the grain he missed. She would run to everyone loudly yelling a greeting in anticipation of yummy treats.

When out of town, stopping in to visit old friends, I had an important conversation. My dear friend Connie lost a 3 week old baby boy. It is a long time ago now – about 40 years. He is still very much alive in her heart and mind.

We were talking about human babies and animal babies that die young. The most poignant thing that she brought up in this conversation was that every creature has a special lifetime, no matter how short or how long. When she thinks of life this way, it softens the suffering of losing her son so quickly.

The idea helped me greatly that day. The flood of pain from the loss was still great, but I thought about how lucky we had been to have YoYo here for her time here on the earth. She was very cute and a lot of fun.

My husband has been taking meditation classes at a Buddhist center and reading much on the subject lately. He has also been writing about about spirituality. There is something I have been thinking about and he happened on the same subject with his words. The following is text that he wrote a night or two ago:

To live life to its fullest, one must live in all parts of life.
And be mindful of the importance of each part.
And not avoid that which is unpleasant, but rather accept it as part of the whole of reality.

If I feel like a failure over the loss of an animal life, the latter idea keeps me motivated to continue on with the farmette. No matter what happens, it is a good way to live, with both the good feelings, and the bad feelings.

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