Chocolate died yesterday afternoon. Apparently she had been hiding how badly she felt, until she didn't have the strength to hide it any longer. We checked on her in the morning, and hubby checked on her again at noon while I was at my appointment in Palatka. When I got home and we got the truck unpacked (I bought stuff for a separation pen) we both went out to check on her again ... and the facade had dropped. She was laying in an awkward position, with her tongue hanging out the side of her mouth and a lavender-grey color. When an animal's tongue turns that color, then it's all over but the death rattle. Hubby went to get the gorilla cart, then lifted her into it and we rolled her up while I carried the kids. While I put up the kids, hubby got the .22 and ended her suffering.
I cried a bit while we skinned her, butchered the carcass, and fed the offal to the pigs. Hubby is getting ready to filet as much meat off the bones as he can, and while I was up in Palatka doing errands before my appointment, I succumbed to the book temptation: "Home Sausage Making." It has some interesting pork sausage recipes, along with recipes for beef, lamb, venison, poultry, and wild game sausages. There's even a chapter on vegetarian sausages. This was not how I intended to try a first recipe, but this happened and while it sucks, we're trying to make the best of the situation.
Tiny Tim is having no problem at all switching to a bottle, but Andre is still trying to resist. I can get a little milk in him, maybe a swallow or two or three, then he remembers he doesn't like the bottle and hollers while struggling. This is actually an improvement over last night's feedings, so I haven't given up hope yet. I tell him he doesn't exactly have a choice now, because either he gets on the bottle or we'll lose him also.
This sucks. No one is to blame - it wasn't Andre's fault he is so big, or was positioned wrong. I did what I could, but apparently that wasn't enough. Cross your fingers that I can get Andre on the bottle, as that is the next crisis-in-waiting.
2 comments:
It's tough losing a good one. I'm glad you at least got some meat, though.
One of our old goats had beautiful twin kids, both female, one tan and one black and white. They would jump up on my knees when I went into their pen, then sit on my lap. Amazing how affectionate they were.
One day the tan one looked under the weather. The next, we found her laying dead in the yard. Still have no idea what got her, but that's life. Animals are a gift and a heartache.
Both a joy and a heartache, yes indeed. The orphans are particularly affectionate with us, and I am hoping to find pet homes for them. The older kids are getting a little jealous, and coming to us more for attention as well.
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