The Circle of Life and Hard Life Lessons

Growing up in suburbia, most families probably feel it is best to shield their children from any sadness, as my parents did.  Farm kids grow up learning the circle of life first hand, no matter how young or how traumatizing it may be.  I was fortunate to have what I consider a healthy mix of both.

To make a (really) long story (semi) short, Coco and Midnight, my first pets, actually became the first to show teach me many lessons.  They started out as class pets (gerbils) in my 2nd grade classroom.  At the end of the year, every child who could, was to bring a note from their parents saying they could have them.  These would be placed in a raffle with one winner.  I remember a knock down drag out argument between the Brownstein Family's 2 most stubborn members- me and Dad.  He put his foot down and said no.  Unfortunately for him, I learned to use a trick the next morning that served me well over the next decade.  No, I did not forge a signature, I was much more manipulative than that.  I waited until he left super early for work then I went to work on Mom. Side note, this is also how I got my first horse. 

I think I have mentioned before that I was a, um, well, difficult child (especially in the mornings) and  my mother give in rather quickly to my tantrum that particular morning, writing the note to shut me up and saying " Oh what are the odds of you actually winning? Alan will never know!"  Let's just say nobody ever challenges the odds anymore when it comes to me.  That is how the "sisters" Coco and Midnight came to live in my room.  

Early one morning, my mother awoke to my asking her what C and M were doing. Were the fighting? Wrestling? There we had my first lesson... In fact, it turned out that Coco, was indeed not Midnight's sister, but male.  6 weeks later, I woke up to little squeals, and then a really loud squeal...I learned lessons 2 &3 quickly.  Mating- Weird but ok. Birth- not pretty, but cool. Death by one's own parents- traumatizing. I can still see that image clearly in my mind's eye to this day.  Much to all the parents dismay, C & M managed to fill my friends homes with their offspring for years to come!  When Coco passed, i buried her in the yard.  When Midnight passed days later, I learned that you should mark graves clearly, as I dug up the first one while burying the second...and the next day I learned that you should dig graves deeper than 6 inches, or the neighbor's cat will dig them up and leave them for you.

My next memory was in high school, when one of the hens at the farm I rode at had passed away.  I called up to the owners and asked what I should do.  I was told in a very matter of fact tone  "Well, pick it up and put it in the manure pile!"  I tried to hide my horror at this suggestion.  I had brought a friend with me to the barn that day.  She always knew the right thing to say, and announced "May we have a moment of silence for the chicken?"  We could not contain our laughter.  It was at that moment I learned perhaps the most important life lesson so far.  You have to be able to laugh at some things, otherwise they are too hard to bear.  This lesson has served me well in all areas.

 On the advice of my farm family, I decided to become a vet tech and was entered into an entirely different world.  Thanks to this farm family (who are still my close friends,) I was more prepared than most to enter the veterinary field.  I will never forget my first day.  A vet, who later became a close friend, asked me to hold this old sickly looking cat.  I thought she was just giving it an injection.  She thought that I had heard the conversation preceding this action.  I held her gently and pet her head, as the vet humanely and quietly ended this cat's misery from some disease she had been suffering with a long time.  As I felt her go limp, I looked up in shock and asked if she had meant to kill her.  More lessons learned for all of us in the room...

Over the next 16+ years I have become the holder of hands and an impromptu therapist for those losing their loved ones, and occasionally, I am the deliverer of the peace for these animals.  I have never enjoyed the process, but take comfort that I have helped to end one's suffering as peacefully as possible.  

I have also participated in hunting, although never the one to shoot, witnessed a slaughter house in a third world country, as well as responded to national disasters in a veterinary capacity. I have sat by a gravely injured deer until someone arrived to end her suffering. I have seen enough death to last me several lifetimes.  I have seen the great lengths some people go to save strangers from one millisecond of pain, and others who wouldn't so much as slow their car to avoid a squirrel.  I have learned to compartmentalize and handle these situations which makes me excellent at my job, but sometimes I wonder if it makes me slightly less human.  Then a situation always strikes home to remind me.

Aldie Mountain

Gusman

I had one year that was especially difficult, and there is no way for me to joke about it (sorry.)  I lost my horse, Aldie Mountain, to complications from old age.  This was terribly sad, but not tragic as she and I had been through a lot and she was quite old at that stage.  That was January.  In March, my first dog, and the best friend I could have asked for, showed some strange signs, and tests revealed he had an aggressive brain tumor.  He was gone 4 days after his first symptom.  Always trying to look for the lesson, I learned that no matter how difficult it is to lose someone so close to you so suddenly, it                                                  really is so much easier knowing that Gus did not suffer long.  

This brings me to my adult adventure into independent farming.  Growing up, I had a strong dislike of birds of all kinds.  From being chased by an angry goose, to pecked at by broody hens, I just did not understand or care for them.  I could not predict their actions by their body language like I could for a horse or a dog.  There is another long story as to how it came to be that I am now a chicken herder, but that is for another day-all you need to know for this is that I have a flock and I adore them.  I thought chickens would be easy, build a little home for them, and get some eggs.  Turns out, they really are easy, but they really need a secure coop.  Given my lack of carpentry skills, I have learned this the hard way. 

Pre-pancaking chicken

The first flock

The first hen I lost was not to the usual predators we see around here, but rather by Quinn the Destroyer (see previous post.)  I had the coop in the middle of a field where Quinn was.  Quinn clearly smelled the chicken feed (everything is Quinn feed to him) and he broke down a wall to get in.  I got home and went to lift the wall and found my first fatality.  One chicken pancake.  I cried.  

Not long after, a raccoon broke in and just mutilated and killed everyone.  I called my boyfriend at the time, crying.  His response was that I should not have farm animals if I was going to cry every time one died.  I should have known the relationship was doomed then.  I also did not want to hunt the raccoon, because what it she had babies? Circle of life is tough for me.  Although I cry, I have learned to clean up the parts and pieces and move on.  Even though I am not much of a crier normally, it is totally ok and normal to cry when something sad happens!

Stan the Duck

After several shanty-town enclosures, and after losing several flocks of hens (only after I had had them long enough to really get attached) and a brief stint in ducks... I finally have a coop in place that so far (knock on wood) has been a secure lodging for the ladies.  Of course, then I let them free range and a visiting dog killed five.  That same day, I was out with the dog, and he caught a groundhog and killed it in front of me.  Some days I feel like I should just not have gotten out of bed, but we grieve for the lost and do for the living, so I rebuilt.  Again.  

Ursula the Spider

Now I am living on an amazing farm, but have to deal with more of this circle of life stuff everyday.  This week alone, I have stressed over several things.  First, I have this giant yellow spider that I have been watching for a month above my box garden on the deck.  Now I read that she will soon lay her egg pouch and then die.  All of my "Charolette's Web" memories come flooding back.  Great, now I have to look over this egg pouch all winter and have avoided picking my peppers for weeks.  I am agonizing over having to kill the mice are were threatening to take over the apartment and not pay their share of the rent.  I finally started doing it, and the snap traps worked as they should, killing them quickly.  Sad but I could deal. I have had one (I hope) mouse that continued to eat the bait, set off the trap but not get caught.  I assume this is the mouse that ate my vitamins, making him a teenage mutant ninja magical mouse. Until this morning.

Try to picture this whole scene without crying from laughing.  I undressed, getting ready to shower.  I look over and realize a mouse was caught.  Thinking it was dead, I grabbed a plastic bag and went to scoop it up...only, it looked right at me and began to struggle.  Quick! Think!  Help this poor thing!  I knew it could not be saved, but wanted to end things as quickly as possible.  I was in an almost panic state to make this happen fast.  I ran out onto my deck (yup, still naked...good thing no neighbors) and found the closest heavy item and ended Fievel's existence.  I feel like a horrible brute, but it had to happen.  I imagine I will have nightmares for weeks.  Meanwhile, mice have literally run over my dog's paw and he couldn't care less.  Perhaps it is time for a kitty.

Oh and if you want something else to have nightmares about, look up parasitic wasp eggs on a hornworm.  My garden has been so fun.  Insert eye roll here. 

Have I mentioned I struggle with the circle of life?