Rosie died last night.
Post Note: We came to call it "The Spring of Death". In 2009 we fought our first fight with Ketosis and lost two treasured ewes, Rosie and Coral Bell, along with all 6 triplets they carried. The posts leading up to this one will tell you the struggle.
She was progressively getting weaker all day and I knew her time was near. Her breathing was slower, and she could not swallow well. She showed no signs of pain. She was still coherant most of the day, but by late afternoon she was pretty much in a state of sleep, occasionaly opening her eyes, or a twitch here and there - a clear sign her body was slowly shutting down. The little son who lived so she would die is gaining strength, and is wobbly but on his feet. I brought him out to the barn for the day and he stayed cuddled up with her all day until I brought him back in the house. I took this photo and imagine she died within a few hours, as is this how I found her this morning.
I sat with the two of them for an hour or more yesterday, Rosie's head cradled on my lap, while I said my final goodbyes and thank you's to this magnificant mother, herd leader and friend. She was our first sheep. While Coral's death left a huge impression, Rosie's death leaves a hole.
But it is time to move forward. We had healthy twin ewes from Blue on Saturday, and Daisy should lamb soon. Then we are done for the season. We have learned. Tomorrow is my 51st birthday. I feel 90 after the last 8 days, but it will be a day of peace for the farm, as our girls will all be buried, safe. And that little boy of Rosie's lives on - he is here for some reason.
Rosie, it was such an honor, all of it.
