The End of Summer
Lay your head in my lap, little one
A better life awaits you
Close your eyes, little one
Everything will be just fine
Take a deep breath and let go, little one
There will be no pain anymore
Rest in peace, little one
Nothing can hurt you now
Though you deal me a cruel blow and leave an empty spot in my life.
Cry for you, I will
And then
Bury you, I will
But
I will always remember you
And, I will always miss you
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Oh, what a day! I came here to write a new post about the end of summer and all the lovely things I'm witnessing in nature as autumn rounds the corner, but what a drastic turn its taken! Now, I shall truly write about the end of summer, the end of the summer of little Ivory's life, the end of the summer in my heart, the end of the summer songs on my lips. (I'll be alright in a while, that I know. But for now, I grieve.)
And then she got sick. We didn't know what was wrong. We did what we thought best and kept her inside the barn as comfortably as possible. After a few weeks, Ivory was up and about, wanting to graze with the other sheep. Of course, she was still weak, and due to her eyesight issues, she could not keep up with the herd. That wasn't a problem though. She stayed in Joey's area, and he kept an eye on her.**
Ivory learnt to respond to her name. She was very quick with her ears, and soon, she could follow anyone around as long as they made some noise to guide her. She was so loveable, especially because she couldn't see very well. She didn't hop around like the other lambs because she was afraid of losing her balance. So, she hopped with only her back legs, keeping her front legs steady on the ground and letting her nose guide her. It was such a cute sight. 😢
Well, c'est la vie!
Just when we thought that everything would be alright, that Ivory would grow up into a ewe, and that she'd always remain our special gal, she got tragically ill. I knew, in my heart of hearts that she would not recover this time, but I still put on a brave face and kept my hopes up. Knowing it was coming did not lessen the initial pain or shock in any way, but it did help me later on. (As you can see, I'm able to write this post without breaking down)
I like to think that Ivory's short life was full of love and happy memories. It makes it easier to deal with losing her. And I know that she is, ultimately, better off now. I'm learning to let go, hard as it is. But letting go does not mean forgetting. I think that writing about her and creating this final memory with her will make sure that her story never gets lost. The one hard lesson I learned from being involved in Ivory's life is this: Love is true, but so is loss. Life is short. Make as many good memories as you can.
Oh, what a day! I came here to write a new post about the end of summer and all the lovely things I'm witnessing in nature as autumn rounds the corner, but what a drastic turn its taken! Now, I shall truly write about the end of summer, the end of the summer of little Ivory's life, the end of the summer in my heart, the end of the summer songs on my lips. (I'll be alright in a while, that I know. But for now, I grieve.)
---
It was a snowy morning, the morning I found Ivory. She was wandering around the barn, bumping into everything, and crying pitifully for her mother. I looked for a ewe who had any signs of recent birthing, but I didn't find any. So, I wrapped up the wee one in a towel and took her home. We had two cubes of frozen colostrum left that we diluted with warm water and fed to her.
I quickly realized that she couldn't see a thing, so there was no way we could expect her to survive in the barn. We decided to keep her in the house. She joined my other lamb, Lizzie, who was nearly 3 weeks older than her. She took to the bottle easily, and a week later when Lizzie was transferred to the barn's nursery, she was the only one in the house. Bobo, our dear house cat, was friendly and paid her a lot of attention.*
At night, I took her whole basket to my bedroom so that if she cried, I could wake up and feed her. I never had to do that though, because I had some experience with bottle feeding lambs by then, so I didn't let her develop the habit of having a midnight snack. She was my easiest lamb.
Then, the issue of giving her a name came up. I wanted her to have a short name, one that would be easy to say quickly and one she would learn to respond to, but my family had other ideas. Someone suggested Snowball, another suggested Snow-white or Snowy. One person even wanted to name her Diamond Destiny (obviously he or she had just recently watched "Storks"). I don't quite remember who came up with Ivory, but it was the perfect name. Short, sweet, relevant.
And then she grew up like all babies do. 😕 When she was nearly two months old, I had to transfer her to the barn's nursery. It was a very hard thing to do. I kept wanting to bring her back, thinking she would be safer with me. I tried to counter those thoughts with all the positive aspects of her staying in the barn such as, she'll learn to eat whole foods, she'll develop a sixth sense and will learn how to manage around other animals, etc.
Spring soon arrived, and then summer. Ivory was weaned off her bottle, and she started munching on hay and grain. Then she began grazing, like a big girl. She was doing really, really well.
I quickly realized that she couldn't see a thing, so there was no way we could expect her to survive in the barn. We decided to keep her in the house. She joined my other lamb, Lizzie, who was nearly 3 weeks older than her. She took to the bottle easily, and a week later when Lizzie was transferred to the barn's nursery, she was the only one in the house. Bobo, our dear house cat, was friendly and paid her a lot of attention.*
At night, I took her whole basket to my bedroom so that if she cried, I could wake up and feed her. I never had to do that though, because I had some experience with bottle feeding lambs by then, so I didn't let her develop the habit of having a midnight snack. She was my easiest lamb.
Then, the issue of giving her a name came up. I wanted her to have a short name, one that would be easy to say quickly and one she would learn to respond to, but my family had other ideas. Someone suggested Snowball, another suggested Snow-white or Snowy. One person even wanted to name her Diamond Destiny (obviously he or she had just recently watched "Storks"). I don't quite remember who came up with Ivory, but it was the perfect name. Short, sweet, relevant.
Here are a few pictures of her during her stay in our home:
 |
| Ivory by her makeshift storage bin "basket" |
 |
| Ivory looking out the window at the snow |
And then she grew up like all babies do. 😕 When she was nearly two months old, I had to transfer her to the barn's nursery. It was a very hard thing to do. I kept wanting to bring her back, thinking she would be safer with me. I tried to counter those thoughts with all the positive aspects of her staying in the barn such as, she'll learn to eat whole foods, she'll develop a sixth sense and will learn how to manage around other animals, etc.
Spring soon arrived, and then summer. Ivory was weaned off her bottle, and she started munching on hay and grain. Then she began grazing, like a big girl. She was doing really, really well.
And then she got sick. We didn't know what was wrong. We did what we thought best and kept her inside the barn as comfortably as possible. After a few weeks, Ivory was up and about, wanting to graze with the other sheep. Of course, she was still weak, and due to her eyesight issues, she could not keep up with the herd. That wasn't a problem though. She stayed in Joey's area, and he kept an eye on her.**
Ivory learnt to respond to her name. She was very quick with her ears, and soon, she could follow anyone around as long as they made some noise to guide her. She was so loveable, especially because she couldn't see very well. She didn't hop around like the other lambs because she was afraid of losing her balance. So, she hopped with only her back legs, keeping her front legs steady on the ground and letting her nose guide her. It was such a cute sight. 😢
Well, c'est la vie!
Just when we thought that everything would be alright, that Ivory would grow up into a ewe, and that she'd always remain our special gal, she got tragically ill. I knew, in my heart of hearts that she would not recover this time, but I still put on a brave face and kept my hopes up. Knowing it was coming did not lessen the initial pain or shock in any way, but it did help me later on. (As you can see, I'm able to write this post without breaking down)
I like to think that Ivory's short life was full of love and happy memories. It makes it easier to deal with losing her. And I know that she is, ultimately, better off now. I'm learning to let go, hard as it is. But letting go does not mean forgetting. I think that writing about her and creating this final memory with her will make sure that her story never gets lost. The one hard lesson I learned from being involved in Ivory's life is this: Love is true, but so is loss. Life is short. Make as many good memories as you can.
Yours,
Very sadly,
Very sadly,
Ellen Hamilton 💔
* You can learn more about Bobo here: https://www.instagram.com/bobo_kittensky/?hl=en
** Joey is the farm's guard dog. He's a sweet fella, and very good at keeping strangers away.
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