Thursday, April 17, 2008

Letting Go

Every once and a while I make the mistake of thinking I can fix something that is broken. For the past three and a half weeks I have been consumed with a lamb that should have never survived. He was born to another flock, and when I saw him for the first time I thought I could help. I milked colostrum from his mom, dried him and left figuring he would not make it through the night. He did. So I took him home. From this point on I was mom.

Feedings were every three hours for the first week. He grew, but took a very long time to stand. We treated with Bo-Se, Nutra Drench, Vit B shots, daily physical therapy and lessons on how to stand every few hours. My energy was consumed by him, but I was determined that he would walk and live. My chiropractor even paid us a visit to see how he was doing and to see if he could help.

After the third week, there seemed to be a stand still. He did not improve, developed a sore on his side, and showed no interest in eating hay or grain... which he should have done within a few days after birth. In the mean time, one of my ewes lambed, two healthy ram lambs, both up and bouncing within a few unfair. I took my baby up to the barn to convince him that he was a sheep, but he only cried when I left. I could not leave him.

Tuesday night he cried a strange cry at night, his eyes did not seem right and he shook a lot. So yesterday, I took him outside for the last time in the sunshine. He stood and fell many times. Then he sat in the grass so innocently and looked up at me. I told him I was sorry and that I willed all of my strength to him every time I held him, but it did not work. I told him he needed to be free from his broken body and I told him I was going to let him go. He looked at me with is bright little eyes and it ripped my heart out. All about him was right except his legs. It may have been oxygen deprivation, it may have been nerve damage. I will never know, but I do know he was leaving me and I had no choice.

I think there are a few people out there who do not think I am crazy for feeling this pain. I cannot get through the day without crying four or five times. It is so wrong for the young and innocent to not have a chance. I hate to fail.

I can only believe that he is now bouncing around in heaven free from any pain and suffering. Maybe in a few days I will feel better but for now I am crushed.


msubulldog said...

Oh, I am crying right along with you over the little lamb. What a sweetheart. And, yes, it is so unfair. But you gave him three weeks of love that he wouldn't have otherwise known and for that I am sure he was grateful. *hugs*

Deb said...

I don't think your crazy at all. This little fellow was one of the lucky ones - he had you to fight for him even if it if was only for three short weeks. Take some peace in knowing you did all you could for him and that you made his life here on earth the best it could possibly be.
It's NEVER easy to lose anything we love......cry as much as you need to. It means you feel in your soul and that's a good thing.

Hugs to you!


Judy said...

After getting a tissue, I had to tell you that you are not crazy. This was my first year lambing and will be my last. I was a freak during the whole thing that you would have thought I was the one pregnant. I was so afraid of something going wrong. I only have two ewes. The first had triplets and the runt couldn’t stand. I brought her home and cared for her and she is small but okay. The second one also had triplets. She took the one but beat the cr*p out of the other two. It was heartbreaking to watch them want their mother and her flip them into the wall. After pinning her to walls and letting them nurse for three days, I finally took them home too. I was so mad at her for abandoning her babies. My husband said I was trying to make her human and she isn’t. I gave my ram away because I knew I couldn’t go thru all this again. I can buy wool and be emotionally un-attached I just can’t grow my own and be so.

Anonymous said...

You have a big heart, Kelley. It shows in your farm, the animals are part of your life-not a meal ticket. Hang in there, time is a wonderful thing.
Frolic's mom