one less goat on the farm

For several months now, Loppy has not been "right".  The children named her Loppy due to her being lopsided; one of her ears was longer than the other.  She was not a particularly friendly goat, nor did she look real good, but never-the-less she was a part of our family and she had a special place in our hearts mainly due to our sympathy for her.  Despite her seemingly normal goat activities, she had scours (goat diarrhea) for over a month.  We initially tried all types of natural supplements to nurse her back to health, but finally gave up after spending a bunch of money with no effect.  After one of my recent trips I came home to find Loppy pooping normal for a change; I thanked the Lord and assumed she was finally getting healthy, but she never seemed to gain weight and always just looked sickly.

She ate and drank just as much as the other goats, she moved around just fine, but she obviously still had some problems.  Just before I left again on Wednesday the children and I moved the goats to fresh pasture, as we began the process, we saw that Loppy was lying down.  That in itself would not be a problem, but I noticed the dominant doe, Blanchet (and yes every goat has a name), head butting her.  The goats hit each other fairly regularly, but Loppy was on her side and Blanchet seemed to be trying to make her roll over.  As we prepared the new paddocks for the goats, I continued to monitor Loppy who laid on her side for almost an hour; I noticed her trying to get up at times and other times she just laid there with her eyes closed.  I knew this was a very bad sign and I knew what I had to do.

We moved the goats to their new field and took down the old fencing, all the while Loppy laid on her side with her legs sort of sticking up in the air.  I have no problem killing things, but I hate to see animals suffer and I told my children what I had to do.  They both knew what I was going to say before I said it, but my daughter took the news real hard and cried quite a lot.  I asked them if they wanted to go inside while I killed Loppy; my son was sad, but opted to continue working while my daughter headed for the house.  Just as we finished this conversation we saw Loppy up and walking around like nothing ever happened.  There was a ray of hope at the apparent reprieve of execution, but I knew it was only a matter of time and I felt I needed to continue with my original plan.

One thing we decided,  from day one, was that our animals would be raised on all natural foods, without any anti-biotics, growth hormones, de-wormers, etc...   We knew this would make raising the animals more difficult, but it just was not an option for us.  We also had to accept the fact that we may have a higher mortality rate with our animals than other farmers might have, but I never really thought about me having to kill them.  I guess I figured they would get sick and quickly die on their own.  Our first goat death (due to illness) occurred about two months ago while I was away for 4 weeks.  Fern (not sure where she got that name) got sick soon after I left and struggled for a couple weeks.  Eventually my wife and children found her dead and had to deal with the carcass; I felt bad at the time knowing that Fern was dying and not being home to put her out of her misery.  We have come a long way, but I cannot expect my wife to put a gun to a goat’s head nor am I willing to spend $100+ for a veterinarian to euthanize a $50 goat.

Anyway, as I previously stated, I knew that Loppy needed to be put down; my thoughts were confirmed when she was again unable to stand up later.  I got the leash, loaded her onto the rear platform on my tractor, and hauled her down to the lower pasture near the creek where my wife had dumped Fern after she died.  This area is far enough away from the house and our animals that I have no concerns about the Coyotes, Vultures and other scavengers that would be coming back around.  I felt like an executioner leading her to the execution room, only she had no idea what was going on.

After I shot her, I sat there and watched life leave her body.  I didn't cry or feel that type of loss, but I didn't feel real good either.  I had hard time as I drove back up toward the house and met with my daughter,  who came to me and hugged me as she cried.  I cannot imagine what she felt and thought as she heard the gun shots.  I confirmed with her that she understood why I had done it and that she was not angry with me.  She was sad for a while, but a few hours later she was laughing and running around like nothing had happened.

 As I type this I wonder if I will ever be able to kill an animal like that without feeling some remorse... I hope not.  I have hunted turkeys, slaughtered chickens, shot rabbits and had no problems with any of it, but having to kill an animal out of mercy is quite a bit different; the act seems to add a type of human quality to it that makes it more difficult.  I am also fascinated by the fact that I was more effected by my dead goat (and my daughter’s pet chicken that I had to kill) than all of the dead humans that I have seen.

I didn't intend to turn this post into a morbid look into my psyche, but I guess part of the reason I have this blog is to simply get my thoughts out of my head sometimes.  My family has learned a lot about life in the past year since we moved here; not all of it has been easy, but I know that it has all been good and it has given us all a greater appreciation for the lives we have been blessed with.