Thursday, April 14, 2011

In The Now

Does the herd know that Lucy is gone?  Do they miss her?  For several days after my old girl died the herd was edgy, breaking off into skirmishes, and breakfast and nighttime routines were completely disrupted.  Yesterday we were back to normal.  Esther, one of Lucy's triplets, appears to be taking on the mantle of queen, albeit reluctantly.  When fighting breaks out, she waits a bit before leaving her snack and then ambling over to act as referee or stop it altogether if the combatants are getting out of hand.  She's going to be a benevolent monarch. 

Animals obviously have long-term memory.  Nineteen was so happy to have Tessie home from sex camp after a month away.  There are still phrases I can't say in front of Bessie Anne because she, after all this time, will still look to the door for Steve to come in.  I think, however, that animals have the ability to accept what fate delivers.  They live in the now.  When the kids are removed from the does, the mother will call and hunt for a few days, and then go on about her life.  I learn from the animals as much or more as I teach them.  Living in the now, accepting that "it is what it is," is a lesson worth learning.

April is such a schizoid month, and yesterday was a prime example.  The sun came up, shiny and bright.  As soon as I got down to the barn, the skies opened up and poured rain for a couple of hours.  Later on, it was sunny and hailing at the same time.  Go figure.  It's April.

Picture this.  Mrs. Tittlemouse stands in the doorway as Mr. Tittlemouse staggers up the path.  "You're late! And you've been drinking again, Mister!"  "I assshure you, Madam, I have (hic) not.  I just stopped off at the puddle for a tiny nip with the boys (burp)."  Truth will out.  I've always felt sorry for sea otters because, during mating, the male grabs onto the female's nose, leaving it red and sore.  There's no way that girl could go home and tell her father she'd just been to the movies with her girlfriends.  I know...too much thinking time.


Jennie Bolen said...

Love the visual with Mr. and Mrs. Tittlemouse. I think that's probably exactly how it goes down. And considering you're seeing this sometimes in the morning, clearly, he has a problem. I had no idea about the sea otters, how strange! And as far as animals remembering, I absolutely believe they do. You know, we had a goat here, called her Niblet, and she came with a gorgeous baby, Mohawk. He too was a beauty of a goat and we loved them both. She was by far, the best "animal" momma that I had ever seen. Very watchful and loving with her baby, more than normal. Well, this is sad story, I have to warn you, we had a dog, a queensland heeler, and as you probably know, they love to herd, well, one day she got back to the goats and killed that baby. It was terrible, the sadness that went through this house for the next couple weeks after that was horrible. The dog was of course put down, with pleasure. But Niblet was never the same. Ever. She cried and cried and I would cry with her and everytime I would think she was getting better, it would get bad again. Finally, the next year, I made sure she got pregnant so that she could have another baby and she finally seemed happy again. Animals are so remarkable, I wish more people could realize that.

Kathryn said...

Gone one day without internet and NO BLOG and I feel like "the kids" - edgy and morning and nighttime routines were completely disrupted. There I was, with 15 other Red Hatters and I didn't hear even ONE of them complaining that there was no internet connection in the condo, or acting in the least bit cut off. Guess I should look at my priorities??? Nah - I LIKE being "connected" a couple of times a day. Loved the blog by the way. I don't even think Beatrix Potter is turning over in her grave - I think she is smiling!!!