I knew something was wrong when Griselle didn’t come to the gate this morning for the skin from the pineapple I cut up last night.
Actually I knew something was wrong when I fed the sheep yesterday afternoon.
“Soon”, I thought as I tried to feed Griselle hay in the barn and she just circled around and around as if she couldn’t see it, “we’ll have to put her down. But not today”.
Griselle kept walking away from the sheep’s hay feeder and going to where the donkeys were eating. First Lulu chased her away by putting her head down and pushing her, but when Griselle kept going back Lulu turned and kicked. She didn’t make contact, and Griselle just kept trying.
That’s when I tried to feed her in the barn. When that didn’t work, I once more guided her to the sheep’s feeder and finally, she plunged her head in the hay and ate with the other sheep.
This kind of thing has happened a couple of times before and Griselle always seemed to recover from it. So I thought she’d be okay.
This morning, when Griselle wasn’t with the other sheep, Jon fed the animals and I took a quick walk around the pasture. There were no tracks in the snow to follow. When I couldn’t find Griselle I got my snowshoes to make a more thorough search.
By now I knew she was dead, I just couldn’t imagine where she was.
I was surprised when Socks, Asher, Issachar and the donkeys followed me out to the back pasture. Usually, they don’t go that far in the snow. This time it didn’t take me long to find Griselle. Her body was on the edge of the marsh.
She must have wandered off and died early in the evening before the snow stopped. I was in my studio then out shoveling snow during that time, so if she was calling out, I would have heard her. That makes me believe she died a quick and natural death.
Griselle was one of the sheep we got from our friend Donna who rescued her from a farmer who couldn’t care for her and the four other Romney sheep.
Griselle was old. I’d been feeding her grain because she had a hard time keeping weight on and only shearing her once a year because her wool didn’t grow as quickly as it used to. I thought this would be her last summer with us.
Bless you, Griselle and your long-lived life. You were a good sheep.
You have a beautiful bond with your animals, Maria
Such a beautiful girl! I’m sorry, Maria. Thank you for loving her and sharing her life with us!
Goodbye Giselle ……..❤️❤️❤️
Maria, I once wrote in my first poetry that like flowers, perhaps life in its basic form is to blossom and then to die. Griselle, did it in dignified beauty. . . and then laid herself down. No fanfare, just utility and that in itself, a certain dignified beauty. I would wish it for myself. Thank you for this brief but necessary lesson. Veronica
I’d agree with you Veroncia. “Dignified beauty”. Thanks for those words.
Oh, Maria, I am so sorry. I knew Griselle was old and you expected to lose her, but it is always sad. But I am glad there was no drama. Godspeed sweet Grisabelle. XX
Good bye Griselle, your beautiful wool has kept many warm and will continue to do so. She was a blessing to the farm and blessed to be with someone as loving and caring as you Maria. Hugs!
Maria I don’t have enough words if any so sorry to infinity and beyond
Shakespeare said it in Romeo and Juliet. I chose to change the pronouns:
When she shall die, take her and cut her out in little stars, and she will make the face of heaven so fine
That all the world will be in love with night and pay no worship to the garish sun.
For some reason I thought of that when I read of Griselle’s death. She may have been alone, but she was with Mother Earth.
It is so clear how you feel about your animals and one could see that in how you tried to care for Griselle in her last months.
Your empathy, compassion and warmth are prevalent in all you say and do.
“A good sheep…..” and a loving shepherd.
How comforting that is Jane to think of her with mother earth. Thank you.