Thursday Dose of Cute—And Heartbreak:Rest in Peace, Little Donkey

Dolores and Her Baby Girl, About One Hour Old (previously posted photos here)







She's gone.

At first I thought she'd just caught a chill and then had become weak from not nursing for a couple of hours, but there was something else wrong. Something not working right in her complicated and miraculous little newborn system.

We thought Dolores had miscarried last winter because we found a large patch of blood in the snow by the barn and blood on her legs, and we were thrilled when she became so big it was obvious she was pregnant. But she could have been carrying twins and lost one. Twins in equines are almost never a good thing. The remaining fetus would have been weakend, and possibly harmed by residues that weren't flushed out during the miscarriage.

I saw Dolores pawing at her newborn baby, urging her to stand up. I've seen ewes do this before to their lambs. She meant well—and there was nothing I could do to stop her—but Dolores probably weighs 800 pounds. At one point, she put enough weight on the baby's side that I heard an audible expulsion of air. That can't have been good.

Or it could have been something else entirely.

Monday afternoon, in desperation, I tossed a bucket of treats onto the grass to distract Dolores (who is fiercely protective and could easily kill me with a single swift kick), hoisted up the baby, and carried her across the front field and up to the barn.






I then proceeded to do everything I could to save her. We spent the last five hours on the beat up old hardwood floor in the living room, next the the blazing woodstove, with Robin, Mr. Midnight, and Molly Doodlebug rallying nearby. Actually, Mr. Midnight, as cats are wont to do, kept trying to climb onto her soft, toasty body, but he finally settled for curling up on the other half of the pillow tucked under my butt.

When it became clear that nothing I could do was going to keep her from dying, I refused to simply abandon her. I wanted her to know she wasn't alone, and that during her short time here she was loved. I rested her head on my outsretched leg, folded my other leg protectively over her body, and proceeded to rub my hands gently across that oh-so-soft fur until she drifted into sleep and eventually took her last breath.

Her heart continued to beat. And then I felt mine break.

I'm no stranger to death here on the farm, and losing an animal is never easy, but losing this little donkey hurt more than most.

While we were sitting there together on the living room floor, I named her Flitta, because she flitted in and out of our lives. And also because it sounds sort of like an abbrieviation for The Flame Trees of Thika, a beloved book I've read numerous times.

When things are going badly on the farm, I often venture back to Kenya in the early 1900s, through Elspeth Huxley's Thika books about her childhood there, or by watching my all time favorite movie, Out of Africa, yet again. These women lived in a strange and beautiful and sometimes dangerous place, and the tales of their often difficult adventures always put mine into a comforting perspective.

I choose to live on this farm in the middle of nowhere, thousands of miles from where I grew up. I choose to surround myself with dozens of animals who depend on me and often become very close to my heart. The high points soar straight to the heavens. The low ones can reach down to the depths of your soul.

It's been a rough several days. Our sweet Zelda became ill on Friday and died on Saturday afternoon. Not long after we'd started naming all our new animals alphabetically according to the year they were born or arrived on the farm (last year were the 'E' names, this year are the 'F' names), I pointed to a ewe and said to Joe, "This pre-alphabet sheep needs a name."

"Zelda!"

"Zelda?"

"I doubt we'll make it to the 'Z' names," he said, "and if we do, she'll already be dead by then." It suited her perfectly. Zelda's death was unexpected, but at seven years old it was understandable. Chip and Chip, at 13, are considered pretty ancient by sheep standards.


About 3 Hours Old







Then of course came Flitta. Today is the first time it hasn't been raining or drizzling since Sunday. Joe has been out of town during all this, so I've been dealing with everything on my own.

Before Donkey Doodle Dandy unexpectedly came into our lives several years ago, I'd never had any experience with donkeys—let alone pictured myself owning one. Now we have a herd of six, and I can't imagine not being surrounded by these intelligent, entertaining, and very companionable animals.

My muscles ache, my heart is broken, and my darling little donkey girl is gone. Tears are streaming down my face as I type this, and I still wake up with a heavy thud of sadness. But despite the tragic ending, I'm still very grateful I was there for her beginning. That precious, amazing experience can never be taken away.



Want a bigger farm life experience?
6/3/05: An Unexpected Beginning (my very first blog post)
6/8/05: That Outfit Could Kill You
6/27/05: Chocolate Chip Sheep & Chocolate Chip Cookies
7/31/05: When? Soon (Living on Country Time)
8/10/05: Whoa! Farm Visitors

4/12/06: Hearts and Rocks and Numbers and Thoughts
4/13/06: Shepherd's Nightmare
5/14/06: A Tiny Tail for Mother's Day (the story of baby Cary)
6/15/06: How to Ensure a Happy Haying Crew
7/21/06: And Sheeeeeeee's SAFE!
7/18/06: The Tail of a Donkey and His Ratty Blue Halter
9/1/06: Happy Hour in the Garden

1/19/07: Merrily, Merrily, Merrily, Life is but a Stream
1/31/07: Sheep Shearing Early for a Change
2/3/07: Snowstorms and Sheep Shearing
5/13/07: The Tail of Two Mothers—A Mother's Day Story from the Farm
6/7/07: Farewell, New Cat
7/28/07: (It Only Looks Like) A Picture Perfect Walk in the Woods

2/3/08: Handyman Special
3/10/08: Broccoli Soup & Recharging Your Dead Batteries (Because Setting Them on Fire Isn't an Option)
3/13/08: Cary, No Baby
3/19/08: Flood Watch
4/20/08: Chick Days Are Here Again!
4/27/08: A Big Sunday Feast and a Mysterious Little Owl
9/18/08: Putting Up Hay and Losing Electricity
9/24/08: The Higher and Higher Cost of Farming
11/23/08: Heat Cheat

1/1/09: Happy Happy, New New
1/27/09: The Stuff of Farm Life—Losing Lambs and Lottie
5/6/09: Baby Cary is Three Years Old Today!
7/1/09: A Day in the Hay
9/19/09: Bye Bye Sheep Barn! (new barn photos coming soon—no, really!)
10/9/09: A Book, Building, and Bread Bakery Update

Lambing Season 2006 Photos & Reports
Lambing Season 2006 Part 2
Lambing Season 2006 Part 3
Lambing Season 2007 Photos & Reports
Lambing Season 2007 Part 2
Lambing Season 2008 Part 1
Lambing Season 2008 Part 2
Lambing Season 2008 Part 3
Lambing Season 2009
Lambing Season 2009 Part 2

© Copyright 2009 FarmgirlFare.com, the grieving (yet hopeful) foodie farm blog where it takes 12 months to make a baby donkey—and only a second to lose your heart to one.