There are days that are bad and then there are days that are so bad I think about giving up.
I had to put Salina down today. Actually, I didn’t have to. I decided to. Because she was having grand mal seizures and she was suffering. Salina has been having occasional seizures and fainting ever since she was attacked by a dog about a year ago. We’re pretty sure that a seizure was what precipitated her broken leg in February, but other than that, they never seemed to affect her quality of life.
I tried to get several vets interested in finding out what was causing the seizures and how to stop them, but the universal response was “Just buy another ewe.” I had other ewes; I wanted this one to be healthy. Frustrating.
In the past few weeks, Erin and I noticed that the episodes were increasing in their intensity and frequency. I think we both knew that we were coming to the end of something, but with all the stuff we’ve been through in the past few months, neither of us wanted to acknowledge it.
This morning I had to acknowledge it. I decided it was time to let her go, then I called the vet’s office and made another handful of decisions. Did I want to bring her into the office and save money on a farm visit? I thought about it and opted to have the vet come to us. She was already clearly suffering, and riding in the back of the truck would have added to her fear and agony. Did I want to bury her myself or have her cremated? Since there was no way in hell I’d be able to dig a hole big enough to bury an adult ewe, I chose to have her cremated.
It really sucks to have to weigh what’s best for your animal against what you can afford, but it’s a reality. The total bill came to $600. It sucks, but while money always seems to come, I only had one chance to do the right by my sheep. I’ll worry about the finances tomorrow.
Salina was one of my first two Cormo ewes, purchased from Alice Field along with Sicily. Both of them were very skittish in the beginning. Even after I helped her deliver Truman-memorialized on video by an esty production crew- she wanted nothing to do with me. It wasn’t until after she was wounded by a dog that we actually had a chance to get to know her. She was in a catch pen for a couple of weeks recovering and, once she realized we were there to help her, she was as sweet as she could be.
Her forced confinement after the broken leg only strengthened the bonds between Salina and Erin, Salina and me. Erin called her the Pocket Sheep because she was always right beside us in the pasture, rubbing her head on our legs as we fed. I hate to lose any animal but this is especially bad. I’m going to miss her something fierce.
This isn’t going to be one of those posts where I wrap things up nicely. It’s just too raw and too painful and too much on top of everything else. And every time this happens, every time I lose an animal in my flock, I feel like I’ve failed. Like I have FAILED. Please don’t tell me it’s not my fault. Intellectually I know that. But my heart is hurting and I can’t shake this nagging feeling that if I’d done something different, that gentle, lovely creature would still be grazing in West Tisbury. It’s irrational but it’s still there.
Lucky for me, the one thing I’d really like to do- get in bed and stay there for a week or so- is the one thing I can’t do.
Tomorrow will be better. It has to be.
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I’m so sorry Susan and Erin.
Sorry, Susan, I know how much you and Erin loved her. She was such a lucky duck that you loved her so much and let her live to have her baby and then let her go when it became to hard. She is loving you both.
There are only two things I can tell you. I hope they help you.
One keep the memories of Salina. Think of the good memories of her. When she finally did take a liking to you and Erin. The good memories help.
The second thing – Salina has Trueman to carry out her legacy. Maybe when you see him or one of his off-springs they will remind you of Salina. Maybe in a simple action or sound.
*hugs to Susan and Erin*
So very heartbreaking and sad. Salina was lucky to have you and Erin shepherd her and love her. Thinking of you both in your sorrow.
So sorry for your loss Susie and Erin. You did the right thing and now Salina is eating in the great grass fields above. I know that thought doesn’t help but I hope what does help is knowing that we all care for you both and when you are sad, we are sad. Bless you both for being such great guardian’s to your animals.
Your head knows what is right but with a broken heart it is hard to hear it. Your broken heart will catch up to what needed to happen.and healing will begin. Each animal comes into our lives to teach us something – think about what she taught you and thank her for it. My heart goes out to you all. Be at peace Salina!
Wishing you peace. You did the right thing.
I am so sorry for your loss. I can now say that I understand in part. Our Jersey heifer (8 months bred) aborted her fetus yesterday. We are saying fetus because we can’t find a calf….we can’t find anything. She’s just not pregnant anymore. So all the hard work and planning and getting ready for a calf and milk are gone….just gone in a heartbeat. I feel very empty today. I’m confused and wondering also if I could of done something differently. Those around me keep reassuring me that I did what I could. These animals take a place in our hearts. If we’d of never loved we would never know such pain.
I’m so sorry. We lost a favorite animal this week too. It hurts.
It will be better. (Hug) jsample on ravelry
Oh, my heavens, I am so sorry about Salina. Hard times right now. I always believe it will get better, but in the meantime it is just awful. I send hugs!!
I am so sorry for both of you. It is hard to lose an animal or have one put down. You did all you could and it will hurt for quite awhile. You have lovely memories and pictures.. Big Hug
I understand about having to weigh the suffering against what you can afford. I had to do that with my beloved Rhodesian Ridgeback, Joshua.
I am sorry for your loss.
::biggest hugs::
So, so sorry, but you did right by her. Things will get better.
Hi Susan,
Having been a shepherd for more than 20 years, I can tell you a secret–even when there was nothing NOTHING you could have done, you will still feel like you have failed. With time, it might get easier to walk with but like a pebble in your shoe, this feeling will always be there. What I have said may sound discouraging, but it is not–whom do you want raising animals? The day I stop feeling bad about the death of one of my animals is the day I need to get out of the business of raising them. (And more farmers are like this than not, I suspect–many have just learned to deal with it with a bluster that only appears to be callousness). You’ll do. Hugs to both you and Erin.
Susie,
All I can say is that I’m sorry for you and Salina. You are in my prayers.
Part of Salina has been knitted into hundreds of items – so her legacy is carried on – on our backs, over our shoulders, and close to our hearts. Thank you for your stories, and for your huge and broken heart.
Thank you so much for this beautiful post. I lost one of my parrots a couple of weeks ago. And you’re post expresses what I’m feeling like I just couldn’t. I know it wasn’t my fault, but yet, my conscious tells me otherwise. I feel like I failed and let him (Paco) down. As you said, rationally I know better, but the emotions hurt so bad. I’m so, so very sorry for your loss. My deepest and most sincere condolence to you. I hope in time we both can heal.
All my love
So Sorry.
I hope that you are feeling better and I’m sorry you had such difficulty in finding a vet to take an interest. I don’t know if you tried them but in the future you might call the Smith Ridge Veterinary Center (www.smithridge.com). They are pretty cool. You can also check out the book written by Dr. Goldstein, “The Nature of Animal Healing”- very informative.
I’m so sorry about Salina. You are an amazing shepherdess, and it shows in how you care for your animals.
I am so sorry for your loss and for the burden of guilt that you feel. It’s very clear to all of us that you enriched her life beyond measure. ((hugs))
Sending warm hugs to you all!
You are in our hearts and in our prayers!
my deepest sympathies for your loss. my beloved cat is ill with lymphoma and i too know how painful it can be to watch a beloved creature struggle while you try to make the best decisions about their care. i know how easy it is to second guess yourself.
you have my sympathy and my hopes for healing for the hole in your heart. want to know what i gotten into the habit of doing when i have an awful day of dealing with terrible things? i look at pictures of arno and the rest of the babies and reflect on what a special and wonderful thing you are doing, taking such good care of the flock. i am sure that sometimes you feel as if you should quit or that you have failed, after all, we all do sometimes. but you are a hero and inspiration to me and, i am sure, to many others. many people, even people you don’t know, have been touched by you and your work, so you can’t be doing anything TOO wrong…
much love for you in this difficult time.
rebecca
I hope things are looking a little better today. You’ve been through a lot lately! Be kind to yourself, and remember that we’re all thinking about you and hoping for the best.
I’m sorry.
Much luck to you and your flock; I’m so sorry for your loss.
You’re a fantastic shepardess and Salina was very lucky to have you watching over her. You can bet she knew that. Mighty Truman and the rest of the flock will help give you comfort.
I’m so sorry for you loss. I do understand the feeling, tho it is because of my ferrets rather than sheep. No matter what the pet is, you love them and their loss is hard and heart breaking. My thoughts and prayers are with you as time does it’s thing to help heal the pain of loss.
Just (((((hugs)))))
I’m sorry.
Hugs and love.
Sometimes the best and right thing to do is the hardest. She was, is, and will continue to be loved – and she knows it.
More hugs and love.
I’m catching up on your blog after being away for a while. Between the post about your breakup and this one, I’m all weepy. Big hugs to you.
There are no words other than Salina hasn’t left you, she will be with both you and Erin during feeding time always. And if food inexplicably disappears one day – you’ll know who took it. BIG HUG!
Tears. Hugs. And I echo everything everyone else has said.
dear susan,
my eyes are filled with tears for your loss.
your words touch deeply to the soul.
and despite the taunting, haunting thoughts of “what if” and all the potential things that might be different –only if…things are as they are.
your decisions come from deep compassion, love and from the heart. you are a wonderful shepherd and kind, loving person.
in hindsight, the gifts remain the time you had and still have in the memory banks with salina…
love
never
dies
it’s the only comfort i find when things like this happen
and they do
for you too frequently over the past number of months
and things go on
and you’ve made the right choice to spare her any more pain and suffering
she knows that
and now is free to be
her spirit lives on
and don’t be surprised if she pops in to visit.
hugs love and condolences to you and erin and everyone who loved miss salina,
xoxoxoxoxoxoxo…
love,
rona
I am so sorry for your loss. It’s horrible to lose a friend.
So sorry to hear that–we will remember her fondly.
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