My friend Lynn called me around 0900 this morning. I had just fixed my second mug of coffee, and was carrying it to the desk with the intent of calling her to say Brooke kindled and I have a couple more baby bunnies (Gracie kindled yesterday).
Lynn wasn't calling about rabbits, or chickens, or plants ... one of her lambs got her head caught in the gate somehow, panicked, and severely injured herself. Lynn wanted to know if I wanted to take her and slaughter her, so the carcass wouldn't go to waste. I said sure, and got my shoes on and hit the road.
When I got up there and saw the lamb, my heart sank a bit. This one was their favorite, and a couple days after lambing, Lynn's husband was proudly showing me pics of her on his smartphone. She even had a name, and they don't usually name their animals. One look and I could see her neck was indeed severely injured, either dislocated or broken. Lynn moved the poor little lamb to my front seat, and I took her back home. She lay quietly for almost the entire trip, but the bumps of the dirt roads must have been painful as she started to flop around and off the seat. I pulled her back onto the seat, and tried to calm her until we got home.
She got a quick death - I hit the artery on the first cut. After that, it was almost exactly like skinning and dressing out a goat kid. (Oh, we put two of our boys into the freezer. Kid tastes like a cross of veal and lamb.) Two hours after I got her home, she was slaughtered, skinned, dressed, sectioned, and put on ice. When I called Lynn back to let her know everything went smoothly, I had to reassure her that the poor thing could not be saved. She could not stand or move properly, and she lost consciousness quickly, and probably never felt the cut from the filet knife (Rada brand, good quality knives). Lynn thanked me for taking care of this ... the gate incident happened right before they were opening up for business.
Life and death, all in one morning.
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