Lucky

Hello and warm greetings to you from Brown Egg Farm! It is incredibly windy and cold here this evening. I was out in the pasture a little while ago giving the alpacas their evening feed and the wind seemed to blow right through my jacket. It was worth it though as feeding time is the time when I get to feel connected to my sweet paca babies. Ben (our horse) and Wyatt (our donkey) always seem to feel a little left out as grain is not part of their daily diet. They, however, know that my pocket will be filled with treats for them.

I had mentioned in a previous post that I recently lost my sweet alpaca boy, Lucky. Lucky was about eight years old and totally the busybody of my farm. He always knew what I was doing anytime I was outside and I could always count on his head popping up over the fence when I walked out the front door. The evening before I lost Lucky, I thought that he was acting a little strange, but I would have never guessed that something was seriously wrong. It seemed odd to me that he was very tolerant of my hugs and kisses when he typically would have pulled away from me in annoyance. In hindsight, I would like to think that he knew what I didn't and was giving me the chance to have a goodbye. The next day, I arrived home from school and knew the moment I opened the truck door that something was very wrong. Ben was neighing very loudly from the pasture and I could tell by his voice that he was very agitated. I ran quickly to the pasture and discovered Lucky's body. Through my shock and tears, I was stunned by the fact that the other animals were in a circle around him. I stood at the gate for a few moments and felt privileged to be part of the gathering, sharing my grief with my precious creatures. Eventually, I asked Paul and Michael to join me in the pasture. Michael quietly moved the animals to another part of the pasture and Paul helped me move Lucky's body onto a tarp so we could move him from the pasture. As Paul and I were lifting Lucky onto the tarp, I happened to glance towards the other animals, making eye contact with each of them. I certainly have no words to describe the incredible grief that I saw in their eyes. They were mourning for their friend just as I was. Paul stopped me as we began to move the tarp out of the pasture because I had allowed it to touch the ground. He said simply, "Dad, we will carry him, he will not touch the ground..." I have no idea where I gathered the strength, but my sweet boy and I carried Lucky's 170 pound body all the way to our horse trailer. I learned a lesson in that moment about dignity, one that I won't soon forget. Michael too took his part in the process very seriously as I saw him quietly petting and reassuring each of the animals as they watched Lucky leave the pasture.

I still miss Lucky every day and I sometimes expect to see his sweet face pop up when I come out the door. I know that I was incredibly blessed to have had the opportunity to be his caretaker and I will hold him in my heart forever.

Have a wonderful evening and peace be with you,

Joshua