Contemplation on the Struggle of Life and Death

We lost Miracle’s little doeling (see “Triplets for Miracle“). She had a very rough start as it was and still struggled for her first few days. Yesterday, I went out to the barn about 4:30 a.m. and found her very still and barely breathing. She was cold, so I knew I needed to get her warmed up as quickly as possible. I brought her into the house and submerged her body in the kitchen sink filled with warm water.

Dan and I took turns holding her head up and keeping the water warm to raise her body temperature (roughly 102° to 104°F for goats). We didn’t know if we could save her, but we knew we had to try.

The having to try is part of the responsibility we took on when we got animals. I call this stewardship, i.e. doing everything necessary for the animal to be and do what it was created to be and do. Emotions are irrelevant. We don’t see our chickens and goats as part of our family, but that doesn’t mean that we treat them with disregard. I didn’t feel like getting out of bed at 4:30 in the morning, but I did it because Miracle’s kids needed to be checked on again. I set myself aside as part of my responsibility toward my goats.

Now, I was cradling Baby Girl’s head in my hand and watching changes in her breathing as she drifted in and out of consciousness. She had struggled to enter life, was she struggling now to enter death?

Always in my mind when I face problems with our critters is, what else can I do? I’m not talking about life at any cost. People who see all their animals as pets will go that route, but on a homestead like ours, that isn’t realistic. I do what I can, the best that I can, and then accept the outcome. Sometimes that means death.

Baby Girl finally stopped breathing and that was that. I know that I did what I could and that there is no place for blame. Miracle still has her two boys, and since goats apparently can’t count, she’s blissfully unaware of the loss.

And life goes on.