I'm reading this late, catching up on Substack after some time away, but just wanted to pop in and say how much I appreciated your story of loss. Although my current flock is small, I've experienced unexpected losses many times, and it's always emotionally difficult. I share your perspective though, that each sheep's death, whether lamb or grown ewe (or, in my case my first ram), has something to teach us. Some lesson, maybe just humility or patience, or acceptance. Thanks for another beautifully written piece!
When my son was growing up, we used to go to a Benedictine monastery every Spring to help the monks with their sheep farm during lambing season. My son would help bottle feed the orphaned lambs and named each one. I remember the bittersweetness of the first time, after he'd named all the little ones in "his" flock, when the truck arrived to take them away for slaughter, and how this was explained to him. He was so devastated to think of it.
I am still, although a carnivore, unsure myself how to reconcile the cycle of life and my animism (I am an astrologer who believes in the aliveness of everything in the universe).
I too have struggled with that reconciliation. But have found a “rightness” in being so deeply involved in the processes, from birth to death. Life is fleeting, everything eats and is eaten, and we are no more special or different than the wolf or the worm, just part of the cycle.
Carly! Your Saturday story caught me off guard this morning, and I found myself crying as I read. Growing up, I tended my parents sheep and goats and your writing brought to mind all the pain and joy that came with caring for them from birth to many untimely deaths. Thank you for sharing! I didn't know I needed this moment.
I'm reading this late, catching up on Substack after some time away, but just wanted to pop in and say how much I appreciated your story of loss. Although my current flock is small, I've experienced unexpected losses many times, and it's always emotionally difficult. I share your perspective though, that each sheep's death, whether lamb or grown ewe (or, in my case my first ram), has something to teach us. Some lesson, maybe just humility or patience, or acceptance. Thanks for another beautifully written piece!
I’m sorry for the loss of your ram, that is a hard loss. And yes, always a humbling experience.
When my son was growing up, we used to go to a Benedictine monastery every Spring to help the monks with their sheep farm during lambing season. My son would help bottle feed the orphaned lambs and named each one. I remember the bittersweetness of the first time, after he'd named all the little ones in "his" flock, when the truck arrived to take them away for slaughter, and how this was explained to him. He was so devastated to think of it.
I am still, although a carnivore, unsure myself how to reconcile the cycle of life and my animism (I am an astrologer who believes in the aliveness of everything in the universe).
I too have struggled with that reconciliation. But have found a “rightness” in being so deeply involved in the processes, from birth to death. Life is fleeting, everything eats and is eaten, and we are no more special or different than the wolf or the worm, just part of the cycle.
This was beautiful. Be blessed, Tiny Ruby.
Thank you, Rachel
Carly! Your Saturday story caught me off guard this morning, and I found myself crying as I read. Growing up, I tended my parents sheep and goats and your writing brought to mind all the pain and joy that came with caring for them from birth to many untimely deaths. Thank you for sharing! I didn't know I needed this moment.
Thank you so much Rachel. I am touched that it brought up memories and tears for you ❤️