And it was really amazing on the farm, although there was a lot more Poo than I expected. Baby goats (we had four - two white females like angels and two brown males called Lucifer and Beelzebub) are adorable and loads of fun. They also pee like garden hoses.
|So cute! But, serious turd factories.|
The farm experiment taught me several things and changed me, I think, for the rest of my life. Tennyson says, "Nature red in tooth and claw." Boy, is that the truth. Rats lay in wait for ducklings and chicks, and I won't describe the results. Roosters attacked other roosters; it's just what they do.
Then there was Dad with the hatchet, ready to take down some fifty hens at a time to clear out space and sell Sunday dinners. We quickly learned that death was a part of life and we just had to accept it.
That lesson has stayed with me. I don't know if that is a good thing. From that point forward, death was nothing to be feared. After the farm, a pet's demise was, while very sad, also perfectly natural.
"Ah, when to the heart of man
Was it ever less than a treason
To go with the drift of things
And yield with a grace to reason
And bow and accept the end
Of a love, or a season."
Robert Frost was right.