just as she
This lamb was my first dead sheep, ever. I did it by hand, with a shovel and pick axe. I got down as far as I could, a few feet. My back was really starting to hurt. I went back to the barn and grabbed the dead animal by the wool, something I have done before in haste with sheep, but instead of pulling her mass towards me, it simply ripped off in my hands. I was stunned for a moment by the rush of decomposition. Grabbing at wool was how I caught her less than 24 hours before. Now it couldn't hold dead weight. I sighed, grabbed the back legs, and drug her 50 pounds to the hole.
She was buried, and then for good measure I covered the grave with large flat stones. I would be late for work. I still had the entire farm to feed and water and prepare for the day. It is an oddly warming thing to do, preparing the living after a morning of preparing the dead. Hopeful.
Losing the ewe, and two more rabbits to the wasting disease, had me so angry and demoralized. To remove three bodies from the world of the living to the world of the dead is not the best way to pick yourself up. I was able to save half the rabbits, and had plans to set up their mobile rabbit tractor that weekend. I needed to do something right then to lift myself up, out of this sad place. So I assembled one of the pens I had ordered from Critter Cages, and set it by the barn. I put in four black kits and watched them hop, drink, and devour the grass I would mow later that night. I decided not to mow this area by the barn, let them do it instead.
I was tired today. I had stayed up with the ewe lamb rather late, and then stayed up worrying even later. Between sections of Ken Burn's Civil War and walking back to the computer to read blog comments, I couldn't sleep. I ended up falling asleep around 3 and waking up around 5:30. It was not enough sleep to wake up, dig a grave, and put in a full day at the office. I went, and I did my tasks, and came home to the usual chores and such. I did them all and am happy to say I am going to sleep shortly without an alarm clock.
I would not trade this long day for anyone else's. It must sound awful, but it was not. I am lucky to have a lamb to bury, as dark as that may sound. I dreamed of being a shepherd for years. Today I was one, in the saddest sense. I am grateful for how it shows me the world. And how I am vulnerable to it, too. Just as she.