life and death

i lost my favorite hen yesterday.  we bonded when i nursed her back to health last year.  she was blind in one eye and had isolated herself in the coop to the point of starvation.  i fattened her up, re-introduced her to the flock and watched her thrive - until last week.  i'm not sure exactly what happened, but she seemed to have broken an egg internally.  though i thought she was improving, she died right around dusk.  it may seem strange that someone could mourn the loss of a chicken, but i do.  i will miss her.

i've become more familiar with death than i ever imagined i would be.  i'm coming to accept it more (what choice is there?) and fear it alittle less, though i can't imagine ever becoming indifferent to it.   i don't have the luxury of turning away like i once did -  i'm there to face it when the time comes.  though heartbreaking, it's also a privilege to share the last moment of a creature's life with them, to comfort them as they take a last breath.

we've had a few close calls that resulted in miraculous recoveries - a ram with pneumonia so bad that he couldn't stand, a rooster with a respiratory infection who could barely breathe, a hen who was flayed from her wing to her leg by a spur.  by necessity, we've honed our veterinary skills, and i can now give injections, intubate, de-bride wounds, de-worm and trim hooves.  we vaccinate yearly and have a great vet who makes house calls.  still, sometimes nature takes an unexpected course and despite all of our resources and good intentions, i realize that we are not really in control.   sometimes all we can do is watch things unfold and try to punt the best we can.

my friend and neighbor, pattie, has been there to help me with many health emergencies.  she's a die-hard texan, with a quick wit and a generous heart (and a serious ability to punt). she breeds blue-eyed dairy goats, and was there to support me when we nearly lost a lamb this spring (he recovered). unfortunately, she was dealt a very bad hand last month when her beloved doe, azula, went into labor late one night.  she delivered a kid, then grew progressively weaker.  they could feel that there were still three babies inside, but something was very wrong and she couldn't deliver despite hours of labor (it was later discovered that one of the kids was stillborn and blocking the canal).  pattie had to make a difficult choice (one that i hope i will never have to make) between losing everyone, and losing azula but possibly saving the babies. the next morning, pattie asked a friend who was an experienced hunter to come to her house. after she said a tearful goodbye to her doe, he put her down with one clean shot.  they went to work quickly and were able to save another kid.  i'm in awe of her for enduring that with such grace.  what an amazing thing to experience life and death on that level, to move forward and find joy despite the overwhelming pain.  she's now the mom of two adorable bottle babies but she will always miss her beautiful azula.