It has been a long Monday that started with the passing of you, my precious goat kid. There is so much that I would like to say, but words fail to describe what I feel for you. Your sweet presence is no more around us, your smell, your touch, your cry, your sight. How can such a tiny creature leave such a gaping hole amidst adult goats and milk cows? I was out of station when you were born, missing the first four weeks of your life, yet we became close within next to no time. You used to walk up to me when I entered the gate and I would lift you to my shoulder to show you the world from above. When the herd left you behind while foraging I used to call you, crowing, ‘Maa, Geißle!’More often than not you were too confused to locate us, though sometimes you hopped and leapt joyfully in our direction – so beautiful!
Remember when your mom, Brownie, was sick last week? I took her to my home to look after her and you would refuse to sleep in, standing by her side all night long. On Saturday night I had you on my lap when you were afraid of the fireworks they lit for the Kali festival, though soon enough you would stop trembling and join the herd again, and on Sunday we spent the day together on the pasture. Monday morning at five your cry woke me up. I hurried to you and found you on the ground, weak and cold. I took you in my arms where you died less than two hours later, at the sound of one of the last songs played at the festival, praising the love of amma. I couldn’t stop crying all day; I felt so lost when the veterinary arrived who was supposed to examine you the day before; and your funeral, with the family kneeling around that tiny grave in the pasture where we used to sit – it just broke my heart.
That last, pleading look of yours follows me everywhere. I ask myself what I could have done to save your life, but I know that all things must pass, so I am very glad we made the best of every single day you had been given to live. One hundred years or just eleven weeks, it would always have seemed rather short. I surrender to fate, and I do miss you so horribly. If grief is any measure for it, our love was one of a kind. Thank you so much for this marvellous time together.
Maa, Geißle, maa! Come back as a flower.
20.12.2016 – 27.2.2017
O Jürgenzie…i feel so sad for you. A big hug from me…beautifully written from the heart. Be strong, his soul lives on & will return to you for it has now known kindness and love.