We all get to die. This is one of the truths we try very hard not to look in the face. In fact we will say Pass Away, or Passed or Gone. But the truth is these poor bodies we wear when we are dancing, will one day stop dancing at all. They cannot go on forever. So, more important than hiding from the thought of our ending, is the pursuit of our wonderful glorious beginning. Every moment is that beginning. I know this sounds tiring maybe even a little challenging but Dying is OK. We will all do it one day. 
Mama died yesterday. My beautiful big old sheep. I know that sheep are pretty low on the totem pole for many. But she and I (as you know) had spent many, many freezing nights tending to her myriad babies. She always had four at a time and gave birth straight into my hands. She had washed her newborn babies and washed me as well. She had looked me in the eye and refused to speak, then looked back and spoken. She was not clever or startling in any way. Except there was a cable between Mama and I forged over all those years of nights as we worked together feeding her babies. I will miss her. 
The vet came and while I sat on a brick, he talked Mama through the procedure. His student vet held her head ever so gently, my hand in her fleece, as the senior vet gave her a sedative and then the shot that helped her go into her final sleep. It was all so gentle and calm that Marcel continued to sleep tucked in behind her as she closed her eyes and sighed into death – Minty and Tilly stood on the other side like dirty angels, waiting for their next assignment.
I will miss her. But every animal, man, woman, beast and tree has their time. A long time is not necessarily a better time, a short time can be a full time, but for a sheep, Mama had had a good long time. And Mama was ready. She was ready to lay all her burdens down and sleep. My dear old darling. 
Later the vet checked out Daisy and his sewing skills. The teat he had stitched back on the night before last is not as swollen as he had expected and the catheter is still in place and dripping clean milk. He is cautiously pleased. It is possible that she will heal and the quarter might be saved. He did say that he had been thinking about the injury and concluded that because her udder is so long and droopy and full, she gives a lot of milk, he said it is more than likely that she literally stood on it as she winched her considerable body up. Not a nice thought. But she had a good day yesterday, even managing to pick the lock of her perfectly clean stall and take herself out to stand in the cool sunshine.
Today will be a better day, I hope you have a good day too. I am off to find a street corner now. This vet bill is going to be horrendous! But I am deeply grateful that I have a vet who could come to the farm and help me. Deeply grateful.
Ni Ni Mama.
Have a lovely day.
Your friend on the farm,
celi
The Kitchen's Garden 
103 responses to “Ni Ni Mama”
I’m sorry for your loss, but I’m sure that, with you, Mama had the very best life a sheep could possibly have 🙂
So sorry for your loss, it is too sad to see a great friend go. She leaves the sweet memories, bittersweet right now, as you know too well.
So sorry for her passing – dying. Ahl, but she did it well, didn’t she, as did you in your care for Mama and in your tribute here. Thoughts and prayers drift across the state to your farm. Penny
Who knew this farm girl (me) could sit weeping over a sheep. A lovely eulogy for a life well lived and loved. Sorry for your loss Celi.
Beautifully said, I shed a tear for mama today. She will be missed and left her mark on the world. You gave her a good life and she knew that and had trust in you, take comfort in that. I love how you treasure all your animals, the world needs more people like you c.
Mama was a special character in you list of favorite characters on the farmy. I’ve been reading about her for several years, and feel a loss after reading your beautiful post this morning. Your manner of acceptance in the Circle of Life is poetic and meaningful. Mama touched many hearts among your readers. She had a beautiful life with you. rest in peace, Mama.
Dear Celi, you did Mama the ultimate kindness. Love the flowere pics. Thankful that Daisy is doing well. She is quite the escape artist. The vet bill is worth every penny. I am filling your cup as I walk by. A good vet for the Farmy is like found gold. Your visitor is experiencing both sides of farm life. Finding out just how much care and love goes into your daily life. Thinking of you today. Blessings.
Ah, Mama…how good that you and C found each other. You taught her about sheep, and she taught you that there were humans to be trusted and loved…
A gentle end for a gentle beast. Love to all of you…
A fine tribute to Mama and to life. God Bless us all.
Blessings to you and Mama. I hope it’s a restful, peaceful, day on the farmy today. xo~ April
Having a big sigh now. I remember you once wrote that each little life that comes thru the farmy deserves to be celebrated. Good night dear old Mama. You had a good little life and will be missed. Big hugs to you Celi and via you to the rest of the farmy.
With her loving faithful friends on the farm by her side and summer flowers nodding farewell, above a flock of cloud sheep welcomed Mama to the great sheep meadow beyond. Your words & pictures are so beautiful for her today, Celi.
Ah, ah. Dear Mama. Her last days sounded peaceful…a gentle, gradual falling into sleep. I’ve just reread “The Story of the Day I Met Mama”…when was that Celi? How long ago have you two been together? I’ve been thinking about death a lot lately (related to that Menopause project, really, inevitable I think)…you do get more comfortable with the idea, that juvenile feeling that you will live forever gives up and fades away and you start to come to terms with it. Oh my. I know you will miss her. We are made of missing, aren’t we? x
It must be so very hard on you to be so close to your animals & see them go!
It is not always easy to surrender to the cycle of life…
Blessings to all of you for living such a wholehearted life!
You gave her a good and useful life. You gave her a good and peaceful death. And you’ve given us all a lesson in grace. Thank you, for writing beautifully about dying, for the flowers which are Mama’s tribute, and for sharing with your Fellowship so that we can feel with and for you.