Sheila lost the use of her back legs three days ago. I tried and tried to get her to stand but she could not.
All through the night we talked about things, out there in the straw, as Poppy slept on. Sheila was sitting most of the time, all through that last night. Huge in the night. Shone by a little moon. Four times my size and gentle. I gave her drinks and hand fed her treats as we talked about old times – about bad pigs and good fields and how she would sit on command and wait to eat and walk down the creek with me and bring me her bowl for food then pick it up and run off with the filled bowl to eat it over there. And how she adopted Poppy when Poppy was tiny but never wanted piglets of her own. She was a pig apart. My special girl. Ni night she said again and again. The only word she ever learned – ni night I said back to her.
In the morning I brought the vet out for her. Amazingly while I was in calling him and getting dressed, she dragged herself all the way out of the barn and into her garden. I don’t know how. All I saw were the drag marks.
Then she turned her large body around to face the gate where I would come through and lay down.
I sat with her, she and I, for a long time again- waiting. Her voice had changed – it was urgent and low- after a while she was jawing at the pain, and she lowered her head to me.
Both the vets came out. The senior who has vetted me through all my farming (though it was his day off) and his young vet who pulled Del’s dead calf. Do you remember her?
By then I had no words / all I was saying to her was shh shh – shh, shh shh – as though to hush her to sleep. To not see them coming. My throat was closed around the awfulness of losing my companion of almost nine years. At the end my elder vet’s jaw was working, the younger vet was in tears , and I just stood and howled. My head down and my arms straight at my sides. I just sobbed.
The vets said things I don’t remember and left us with her huge dead warm body. John brought the tractor round, his hat low over glistening eyes and began to dig her grave.
I sat again with her – but in the end I let her go.
I miss her more than is reasonable. And I keep thinking I will tell her because I think she would get it. CShh shh I say to myself every time I begin to cry again. Hush, now. Ssh ssh.
Cécilia
The Kitchen's Garden 
94 responses to “Too Hard To Say”
Oh Celi. I’m so very sorry. We all knew she couldn’t live forever, as much as we all wanted her to. Weeping for her from half the world away.
I have been with your blog all those nine long years. I sent a fan, just for your pig, and sang her songs, only she could hear…from way over here. Hugs to you…it’s hard to lose our friends, our family, our hearts.
Oh so hard Cecilia. Thinking of you at this terribly sad time.
Pip
I am weeping from north Carolina. I am so very sorry for you, Celi, & for John & Poppy & for Sheila who loved you all so much.
This made me cry C. I feel your hurt. Sending you love from NZ.
xo
Oh Celi, I’m so very sorry for your loss. I knew it was coming and knew you’d be brave enough to never let sentiment turn to neglect. Still, so terribly crushing to lose a confidant and treasured friend. Sheila was always more than livestock. She was the beginning of the moorings of the bridge between the farmy and the lounge.
There is nothing “Reasonable” about sorrow. You feel everything you are entitled to. I’m sure her loss feels like one of so very many in the last 6 months. Hugs from Texas as you move through the darkness of loss.
So much loss.
Much love to you and John. Sheila was a very special pig not only to you, but to a lot of folks, and I am truly so sorry. We are all the better for having known her, even if it was just virtually. Knowing she was kind of short-timing it doesn’t make it any easier. I know what a wonderful bond you two had. She will be listening for your chats.
Loss…it’s becoming a way of life, isn’t it? What a special kinship you two had for 9 years. I think she knew in the end what was coming, and may have welcomed it. You were with her in her last days and moments and your freed her from suffering, what friend could ask for more. Cry yourself out, and start again. It’s all any of us can do right now.
Oh dear, I am so sorry that Sheila has left you and the farmy. I remember when you got her and Charlotte, the original Shush Sisters, and how from the very beginning you said she was a canny pig. But you always put your animals’ welfare first and it was the right thing to do. Letting her go was very brave and responsible. Sending hugs and gentle pats from Long Beach, CA.
Hugs and prayers. So sorry.
I remember her from the very begining. Hoping that it was a painless ending. Loss of an online friend.
It’s right that we howl at the loss of those we love. She was loved. And she still is. Hugs, c.
Poor Sheila – I’m sure there’s never been a happier pig, though Poppy must come a close second.
So very sorry to hear about dear Shelia piggie celi, sending virtual hugs to you all….xxx