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 how very very hard. Sheila has been a wonderful companion to you and all of us.
Oh Celi, your words have brought tears to my eyes. Sheila has been your constant companion for so long. You will be missing her so much. I’m sending you lots of love in your grief. Sheila will never be forgotten.
So very sorry for your loss. Sheila was a wonderful friend all these years. I’m so glad you had a chance to say goodbye all through her last night. Juliana in South Dakota
Thank you Miss C, for sharing Sheila with us over these years, and for sharing this last goodbye. She was a wonderful girl and will live on in my memories of the farmy and this blog. She was one special pig indeed.
Tears spilling from my eyes. I’m so sorry. I’m so glad you spent that last night and morning in vigil with her. She had a peaceful death with her loving human by her side. Sending love.
Thank you for your words… so brave and caring in so many ways so we may carry a little of this experience as we shared the joy and wonder of Sheila it is fitting, although you bear the heavy grief of it. I’m reading this in the early morning with a coffee as is my habit but today through tears and with a large weighty dog positioned across my lap who offers solace to me as I and your many other friends and Sheila’s, offer to you. I hope it lifts you up some. Vale Sheila, a special soul in porcine form.
Sorry dear. It is hard but she hasn’t gone far.
I am so sad to hear about Sheila, I’m having a hard time to see through my tears. You had such a special relationship. You were able to give her a great life. She will be missed and remembered.
Tears. So very sorry to read about the loss of your sweet girl. Having lived on a farm for the past 40 years, I can feel your pain. Thank you for loving her for 9 years.
It’s so awful when we lose them. Animals live such short lives and yet offer us so much in those quick moments they get to be here. I am so sorry. I’m crying with you.
I’m glad she got to live with you on the farm. She was a good pig and she lived an excellent life.
I will burn some Candles to light her way…🕯🕯🕯
I am crying with you. I am so, so sorry for your loss. She had a great life with you, and it couldn’t have happened to a nicer pig.
Oh C, I’m weeping. I have looked at every title when you post over the past couple of months hoping it wouldn’t be this post. I’m so sorry dear, we all loved Sheila and how lucky you two were to be best friends.
xoxoxoxox
I am so sorry. I cry for your loss, and I cry for my memories. I am reminded of a thought from C.S. Lewis, I find it comforting.
“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal.”
You love Shelia and I am certain she loved you, too. You each brought much to the other’s life and as sad as you are now, I think the love is worth it.
Your heart must be breaking, such a difficult loss. Sending love and strength, allow yourself to mourn for her wonderful life which was so well loved. Take care my friend xx