Naked I came into this world, naked I'll depart

I you, too

This may seem shallow to some of you who've never been close to animals, but a small tragedy has struck our house early this morning. Our family milk goat of seven years died in agony in my lap this morning about 2:30 am in front of the fireplace in the old living room. We've been anticipating her birth for months now. Oh, the joys that come from new baby goats and back into the habit going to the barn for yummy, fresh milk twice a day . No more hormone laden, vitamin D added cow's milk from the grocery store. (Guess where that Vitamin D that is added comes from? Even in the organic milks. Do you really wanna know?)

Last spring we down-sized our herd so we could have a garden from the fruit of our own labors to eat this winter. Cheese making, milking, and a large garden don't go together well. Each one can be a full time job, so we sold all except one, our best milker. Of course, they all had a great personality since we hand fed them all since their birth on our farm. Do you have any idea how intimate it is to receive milk from your animal? It's an unique relationship. She gives life from her body and we receive like one of her own she loves and trust to be there. We've had goats almost a decade now and she has never made the cull list. She's always been one of the two 'keepers' all these years, from the first day of her life.

Anyway,they've always given birth first thing in the morning after morning milking. This year things went haywire. White Socks, (newly favored with a new nick-name of Whitley since she was the only dear left, went into labor in the middle of the night without our supervision. Never good. Hannah who'd been joyfully looking forward to playing mid-wife to her birth, set her alarm for 5 am so she could be there before Whitley woke up. When she got there, the two babies had already had been born, but one was dead. There was one placenta to be found, but that was not surprising as our barn cat often finishes off things such as that. That was yesterday. By last night, she was going down rapidly. More than likely, a retained placenta from the dead kid. Ron gave her a penicillin shot and later (too late) some Oxytocin to expel the rest we now know must have been the problem. Hannah brought her home from the barn last night to tend to her more closely to help her hopefully finish this disastrous labor. She kept vainly trying to push out the poison of her pain. Just wasn't meant to be, even though I begged for pity & mercy from my Daddy, who is in control of all things. Such a small inconsequential thing, to save a family pet. I told Him before we tried various painful things to relieve her of her burden, to guide us and give us wisdom. I told Him I didn't expect Him to be our Genie in a bottle and He was not. "The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. Blessed be the Name of the Lord." In His sovereign will, He said, "No."
Her last night with us.

Hannah's perspective of Whitley's visit to the house last summer for an afternoon milking.

http://adventurersinzion.blogspot.com/2009/09/most-convenient-milking-i-have-ever-had.html
"for death is the destiny of every man;
the living should take this to heart." Ecclesiastes 7

In the grip of grace,
Heather

John 10:27My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me. 28I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one can snatch them out of my hand. 29My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all[d]; no one can snatch them out of my Father's hand. 30I and the Father are one."