A 180-Degree Turn

In my post yesterday I wrote about how I witnessed the birth of baby goats. This morning I arrived at the barn earlier than usual to check on the three babies and I found them clean, warm, and well fed by their mama. When I went to another pen to feed the goats there I found one of the younger goats from that pen laying on her side, cold and seemingly not breathing. With trepidation, I entered the pen. I gently nudged the kid and felt her chest for any sign of life. There was none. I nudged her a few more times to make sure. The result was the same. She was dead.

It was a 180-degree turn from the amazement I'd felt yesterday. Still amazed today, it was because of the fragility of life. There was no sign of injury or illness. I guess it was just her time to leave this world. I messaged the couple who were handling the evening shift at the farm and they said there had been no sign of anything wrong the night before, so somewhere in the previous 12-14 hours death visited her and she followed.

Now came the hard part of informing my friends.  They are out of the country so when I messaged them I had to wait a bit for an answer. In the meantime, I had to move the dead goat out of the pen until I knew what to do with her permanently. I didn't want the other goats to do any damage to her body, and though I'm not sure about this, I think they understood that their pen-mate was gone.  I carried her small, limp body and gently laid her on the hay outside the pen. When they replied to my text I was instructed on where to place her, so once again I had to carry the dead body to the site until someone could come and take her to her final place.

I've witnessed death. I was with both my parents when they passed away and kissed each of them a final goodye. And I held each of my five dogs as they were put down. But I have never had to handle dead bodies. This was not my animal, and wasn't even a typical pet but "just" a farm animal. I had no emotional attachment to her so I don't feel any grief. But as I carried her - first from the pen and then to the porch area - I felt an immense sense of responsibility. As her caretaker, I was obliged to handle her with the respect due her as a being created by God and entrusted to me by her owners and her Creator.

In the Garden, God gave Adam and Eve, and by extension all of us, dominion over the all the animals of the earth; but dominion doesn't mean we have absolute control. Our authority over animals does not give us the right to abuse, disrespect, or dishonor their place as creatures of our mutual Creator. In having dominion over the animals, God delegated to us the right and the responsibility to care for his creation, just as he cares for us. In the gospels of Matthew and Luke, Jesus says the Father cares for the sparrows, so how much more does he care for us.  Psalm, 36:6 says "You, LORD, preserve both people and animals".

This week I've been tasked with dominion over my friends' animals. It has been my responsibilty to make sure they have food and water, and that they are secured in their pens. Yesterday I had the privilege to see some newborn kids only an hour or two old and to actually witness the birth of their youngest sibling. And this morning I had the responsibility and the privilege to escort this tiny goat, who's name I don't even know, towards her final resting place.  I gave her soft fur one last pet and a little scritch behind her ear. I appreciated the beauty of her coat, blocks of black and what looked to me like a latte-like brown with patches of white tossed in for good measure.

I've been caring for these animals for five days now and I don't recall noticing this little goat at all before; but I will notice her absence tomorrow. And now, I will remember her forever.