Thursday, December 14, 2006

Goats

The goat is still in the house, yes. It has been a week. Obviously the bloat passed long ago, the first night. She has not died but she has not made it to her feet either, although yesterday she half did and I was encouraged. I think what is wrong relates to an eye injury. I had treated it and it seemed to be on the mend out in the field. But perhaps it wasn’t. After getting her over the bloat, she did get a short course of antibiotics in case of systemic infection. Although truth is, she wasn’t showing obvious signs of systemic infection. So really, I don’t know.

But here is what I do know. She’s been given every chance which mostly relates to her being loved and cared for. She’s had some allopathic care but not too much -- just enough to give her a shot at getting better on her own if she wants to. We’ve had animals who died for no apparent reason, and other animals actually pronounced as good as dead by veterinarians (“the only humane thing to do is to put this animal to sleep” “no thanks, Doc, that is not our way”) who then lived good lives for years to come. A whole lot of animals (including humans) can make themselves better if they are given a chance (and want to). Joel Salatin talks about that with his chickens -- a chicken who is about to die in the rather viscous chicken coop competition, when taken out of that and given a chance to live, very often does, and succeeds in going back to chicken life in the coop later.

I consider that I have taken myself out of the infernal competition of the industrial complex and given myself a good life, here with a sane tribe of odd individuals.

And speaking of odd individuals and goats, I’ve been helping a neighbor clean his house a bit. He is an amazing fellow. He is older, and not particularly well (although not particularly sick either), he doesn’t have much (except whippets he shows), he lives in some challenging circumstances, alone . . . and yet what he continually said was how good his life is, and how much he enjoys it. Facing cold down to 8 degrees he figured as a challenge, not a hardship, which is also how he looks at any number of other things. Instead of moping and complaining or being covetous and jealous of someone with more, he looks to people with less and sees himself as well off. I adore having friends and neighbors like that and am so cheered by knowing him.

Thankfully we are past those 8 degree temps for now. Today I’m sure was in the 60s, warm enough for the grass to grow. Still I cut wood today, but with my shirt off, lean bare skin absorbing nice healthy sunshine. And the house smells like cinnamon from the granola and citrus from candying the citrus rind. Oh, and basil too, because I forgot to take the basil harvested before the last frost out of the dehydrator, and now I need the dehydrator for the citrus rind candy.

2 comments:

Ren Allen said...

The smells of your house sound absolutely wonderful (and nourishing)!

~~here with a sane tribe of odd individuals.~~

I love it.

CG said...

Well, one of my observations is that when one lives this far "out", everyone is at least a touch eccentric.