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”
Rest well, sweet Mama. Hugs to you, miss c.
I would bet that there is no sheep in the world with a following as large as Mama’s. So sorry for your heartache, but take comfort in knowing she had the best life a sheep could have, as do all of the animals on your farm!
My heart aches for you today Celi. What beautiful words on the circle of life.
Strange how one becomes so attached to another from so many miles away…the farmy has sneaked quietly into my life and both it’s joy and heartache touch me deeply with each new post. Thank you for sharing Mama with us.
Poor Mama, but it was the right thing for her as you know. If only we humans could have the same kind of ending instead of all the pain and humiliation which can be endured at the end of our lives. On a cheerier note, I hope that you do well on the street corner – but DON’T wear the clown suit!
A big trans-Atlantic hug,
Christine
Farewell, dear Mama. May your pastures always be green and the air sweet on the other side. I’m so sorry, Celi, I know you’ll miss her terribly. We all will and I’m crying as I write this. You gave her a peaceful, gentle and dignified send off. Would that we could all go that way when our time comes.
If I had one wish granted at the end of my visit to this earth, it would be to go the way mama did – next to the ones that I love and love me back, as quietly and as gentle as possible, just close my eyes and drift away. Like others have said here, I would sure like to have that choice! Especially having a great friend like you Celi to see me on my way!
Big Hugs
A step closer to God…The Good Shepherd and His Mama sheep.
Rest in peace dear friend, you have given of your best, now rest in love
So Sorry C but as you say it comes to us all
My tummy took a flip when I read the heading, poor mama, but she had a lovely life, and thanks to you a peaceful death x
Deb said it best for me, although all of these words by others are also perfect.Blessings from Alabama….
I agree with Christine above, a dignified way to die and the kindest way to do it. Bless her. (and you) . Whatever it costs, I believe a kind vet is worth his/her weight in gold. Joy
We will miss her, but she went peacefulyl and with dignity. Bless her. Sending you love and a huge hug.
The image of Marcel curled up with Mama brought tears to my eyes. While it is sad she is gone such a peaceful end is what we would all hope for. Sending positive thoughts.
I am glad that Mama gave you the chance to be with her yesterday. She was a very lucky ewe to have found you. I know how enriching it is to live closely with our farm animals, and it sometimes surprises me at how meaningful those relationships can be. Yay Marcel for staying snuggled up as well.
We will be thinking good thoughts for Daisy’s udder recovery as well.
So sorry for your loss. Death is peace for the dying, but pain for the living who loved them. I had to put two of my dogs and a three year old kitty down in the past couple of years. It doesn’t get any easier. Some people say that they can’t have any more animals because they can’t possibly grieve that way again, but they’ll never love an animal again either. I say it’s worth the price of admission.