RIP Sugar-bugar and you too Jen.

Today is one of those broken-hearted, questioning-everything sort of days.

My sweet and feisty Sugar-Bugar came to me almost a year ago now. My surprise Christmas gift pregnant goat that turned out to be...not pregnant.

She was wearing a pink collar with a bell on it. Oh how I wish I had stripped her of it that same day!  She came to me along with Big Momma who really was pregnant and dropped two darling little kids to amaze us with in January. Big Momma was also wearing a collar (no bell). I assumed the bell was due to her feistiness and figured a warning was a good thing rather than have Miss Feisty. aka Suger-Bugar sneek up behind me unannounced.

Today there are no more collars in our pastures.

Sugar developed a trick. She would lure one of the wethers over to the fence with her feminine wiles, then she would slip one of her horns through the fence and through his collar (yes, the wethers had collars too) and hold him hostage up against the fence, hooked! We thought, how clever... how cute! Who knew it would end up being the death of her?

Jen was our King of the Wethers, and kind of a butt-head. A lovable butt-head most of the time... but a butt-head none the less. In hindsight I should have put him down the day I saw him grab Big Momma's leg between his horns and flip her to the ground.

Why did I ignore my gut instinct?

Big Momma was being separated that day from the rest of the herd so that we could beef her up a bit before winter arrived. She hadn't been looking all that well and was in need of some space and some pampering. In the midst of the rush of getting the job done Jen and his aggression slipped to the back burner. Who wants to face a job like that anyhow?

This morning Jen slipped his horn into Sugar's collar and hooked her.  A taste of her own medicine. He'd probably done it a hundred times before. Today was different.Today it got twisted in their struggle. Today our sweet and feisty Sugar-bugar was strangled to death. As I write this, my heart is in my throat and the tears are welling up again.

I let her down. I let them both down.

I should have seen the potential for disaster. Why didn't I do something different? Any number of things could have changed today's outcome. Today's outcome. Today there are two dead goats, skinned and dressed out in the barn waiting to be cut up and put in the freezer.
I can't get the picture of Sugar lying there dead with Jen trying to untangle himself from her out of my mind.

I was filled with love and admiration for my Dane as I saw him jump over the fence, cut off the offending collar and begin administering CPR to my goat before I could even get out the door and hobble over to the gate. Damn this knee!

Today's outcome...

I can't get the sound of the shot out of my head. The shot that killed Jen who I also loved, butt-head that he was.

Today's outcome...

My heart is heavy. My eyes are puffy and my throat hurts from crying. Danes in the kitchen dishing up some ice cream. (Good medicine!) I love our life out here on the farm. But some days are really, really hard. Some days I wonder if I'm tough enough. I have so much to learn and my mistakes have consequences...

I'm sorry dear Sugar-bugar.  I'm sorry Jen. I'm sorry I let you both down.