When we were children and lived at the beach on a quarter acre section, we had lots of guinea pigs. Thirty-six at one time I remember. (We were very proud of that number) Males and females, shorthaired and long haired, all colours. The only ones who went into cages were the pregnant mothers, the rest ran free. My father even built a rock mountain with tunnels running under and through it for them to hide in away from the cats, there were even little rooms for sleeping. We used to put ads in the newspaper and sell the babies. Every morning after breakfast, already dressed in my school uniform, I would take a pot of porridge down the back, bang on the pot with the wooden spoon and call Guinea, Guinea, Guinea! They would erupt at a gallop from where-ever they were hiding and line up to eat, as I ladled the porridge out in a row on the grass.
Our back yard was pretty wild. My mother told us that it was important to keep and breed the animals because as well as learning to take care of animals (which we did) we also learnt about birth and death and it’s natural progression. Needless to say we had a little graveyard behind the swings with named white crosses and everything. My elder brother was in charge of making the crosses, he did a very good job and my little brother provided the shoe boxes for coffins. We sung hymns and said prayers and had quite elaborate little funeral services.
My mother died almost 30 years ago now, when I was a very young mother, but I need to tell her that I have learnt this lesson now and can she please stop teaching me. The Duke of Kupa died last night. I am sorry to be blunt. But I don’t like euphemisms for death especially after we have worked so hard to keep him alive. He did not pass, he is not gone, he died. He was our beautiful bird.
There has been a wee bit of a thaw so I hope the ground is not too frozen, I will bury him down the back with the piglets, Mama’s lambs and White Cat. John is working 12 hour days so I will do this by myself.
And he died with such relief poor fellow. His lungs stopped. The bellows exhaled. He shut his eyes. And his whole body relaxed.
He managed to die under a warm light on a miserable grey day. All very fitting for the day we lose our jewel.
God knows it is hard not to throw myself into a snow bank and say Woe is ME! How could I have missed the signs. But there you are, the milk is spilled. Even a short time with an animal or a friend can be wonderful. Just because he did not live for twenty years does not mean his life was any less complete. He was so beautiful. But there are animals out there who need me on my toes and paying attention.
Ok Mum, let’s get to work with the living now.
I am sorry. I know you loved him too.
Do take care and have a lovely day for Kupa.
your friend
celi
The Kitchen's Garden 
135 responses to “The Duke of Kupa”
I am so, so sorry! I once lost a much loved pet due to ignorance on my part. It feels terrible. I am so sorry.
I’m sorry Celi.
Thank you Missy, I have been wondering about your all, how are things going up there?.. c
Good. I have a sow that needs bred and come summer 2 cows to have bred. Chickens need to start giving some eggs. I still have some parsley and collard greens in the garden even though we’ve had lots of days in the 20 and 30’s and some nights in the teens. Just hanging in there and glad the days will now start getting longer! (Oh – and don’t forget looking through those seed catalogs!) We’re on a 2 week break from school which is really nice.
You are going to milk both cows, Honey and her baby? c
We’ll see if she is worth milking or just raising calves. She’s 1/2 Jersey and 1/2 Charolais. And her name IS Baby! Sort of funny for something already as big as her Momma but the name just stuck.
Charolais! I love them, she will throw some lovely beef cows, maybe she can feed both the calves? if you are able to breed them at the same time?..
I hope so though I prefer to bottle feed the heifers if I’d want to keep them so they’ll be easier to handle. I’m hoping she’ll at least milk enough to be able to keep one in milk when the other is dried up. Still tossing ideas around but only time will tell!
Oh Celi, I am so so sorry to read this. The Duke has a place in our hearts. He will always have that place. Sending you healing energies and love. xo
I am just plain sad and sorry, Celi…
We all will miss you, Duke of Kupa…you were so beautiful!
I am sorry Kupa is gone. I am glad he is not suffering anymore. Thank you for sharing his life with us.
You are right, it was horrible for him, I am still not sure why he waited so long to die, maybe he waited until he could relax, back outside where he belonged.. c
After a few tears shed over Kupa, I ran across this:
“Being a veterinarian, I had been called to examine a 10-year-old Irish wolfhound named Belker. The dog’s owners, Ron, his wife Lisa, and their little boy Shane, were all very attached to Belker, and they were hoping for a miracle.
I examined Belker and found he was dying of cancer. I told the family we couldn’t do anything for Belker, and offered to perform the euthanasia procedure for the old dog in their home. As we made arrangements, Ron and Lisa told me they thought it would be good for 6-year-old Shane to observe the procedure. They felt as though Shane might learn something from the experience.
The next day, I felt the familiar catch in my throat as Belker’s family surrounded him. Shane seemed so calm, petting the old dog for the last time, that I wondered if he understood what was going on. Within a few minutes, Belker slipped peacefully away.
The little boy seemed to accept Belker’s transition without any difficulty or confusion. We sat together for a while after Belker’s death, wondering aloud about the sad fact that animal lives are shorter than human lives. Shane, who had been listening quietly, piped up, ”I know why.” Startled, we all turned to him. What came out of his mouth next stunned me. I’d never heard a more comforting explanation. It has changed the way I try and live.
He said: “People are born so that they can learn how to live a good life — like loving everybody all the time and being nice, right?” The six-year-old continued: ”Well, dogs already know how to do that, so they don’t have to stay as long.”
I think this applies to ALL animals, not just our canine friends.
What a gorgeous idea, thank you for that.. c
I’m so sorry Celi. Robert just gave me a big hug because I’m crying for the Duke. But then Robert just said, “If you were a peacock would you want to live anywhere else?” and I had to admit that I wouldn’t. He had the best life on the farmy. Big hugs to you and big healing thoughts. Much love. X
That is so kind and give my love to Robert for being such a darling.. mercy we have done some crying over this farm this year! c
My sympathy. You mustn’t beat yourself up in any way. It is what it is. The farmy needs you. Peace to you.
So sorry, Celi. Poor Kupa. His life was short, but it was a good life–he had a loving caretaker, his little flock and a lovely farm to rule…what else could he have asked for? It’s always hard to lose an animal, but your focus on quality of life for each of your animals ensures that for the time they have on this earth they are content. If reincarnation should be what happens and I am to come back as a pig or a cow or a peacock, I can think of no place I would rather live than on your farmy.
I am crying
This month has been awful. I lost an aunt and my brother and my best friend (Old Jules) lost his cat . I was really pulling for Kupa, poor fellow. I’m sorry. We have to keep going, don’t we.
Oh no, you have indeed had a terrible month, To lose two people .. I am so sorry.. I will give your tree an extra murmur as I pass it going to the barn.. Give our love to old jules.. he loved his cat.. c
I had hoped Kupa would pull through, but when the body has no more to give, it is time to go.
I’m sure he had a wonderful life on the farm with lots of love and care.
Aww. I am sorry for your loss and your flocks loss. I bet a lot of the farmy is missing Kupa today.
I am so very sorry to hear this, my thoughts are with you and the beautiful bird you called The Duke of Kupa. It is a grey day here too, indeed befitting to feel a little down over his death. XOXO
C-I am so sorry. The kids and I feel for your loss. Miss A put it best though, “At least he had lots of good days on the farm.” And no doubt he did. He was a beautiful bird. Sending our love and hugs.
He did have some beautiful years and I am gad that you and the children got to see him when he was glorious.. TonTon wants me to tell Miss A that BooBum stole his frisbee and bit a hole in it. Apparently he is not sorry. It was Ton’s favourite too. Bad BooBum.. c
Sorry to hear this when you tried so hard to keep him going but as you say life goes on:)