It’s mornings like this one when I feel as though I, and any of the living things close to me, am being punished for some sort of cosmic wrongdoing. Silly, I know. But my heart has been weakened by the last few months of death, loss and destruction. This mode of thought just comes with the territory, I guess.
This morning I heard a small, angry voice within me whimper out “You did this” upon discovering one of my favorite does frozen in her final repose, another doe lying upon her and scratching as if to wake her from her slumber. I knew this moment could come at any time, for any of the animals living on this farm. It felt like a goat had kicked me in the gut all the same.
The voice was right. It was all my fault. I failed this creature. I know I did. She had been sick with a UTI and instead of taking her to a vet to be treated, I opted to try and help her heal herself with lots of fresh herbs known to remedy such an ailment and plenty of fresh water. I went out there three times a day to give her water through a syringe so I’d be sure she was drinking. She appeared to be improving, and was even eating. But this was a lesson in relegating trust to things other than one’s eyes. I was a fool. All of that fussing amounted to nothing, and my sweet Carrot died in pain. She depended on me to take care of her and I failed.
I failed her.
I keep failing the things I love the most and it is the worst feeling. The price of failure on a farm is death. I’m unsure how to keep failures like this one to a minimum so that death only comes around once in a while, preferably when invited.
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