Today or last night really, the lamb we have cared for for the past week died. We called her Gita, short for Borregita (or little female sheep). She was birthed by one of the sheep of Daniel’s uncle. Last week, when the family went to Mexico D.F. for a few days, Gita was placed in our care. At that point she was unable to walk. We were to feed her milk from a bottle a few times per day and give her water. We did this, as well as sending her love and healing and reminding her that she had the strength to run and walk. We rubbed her legs and stretched them. We thought she was healing, as she began to kick her legs again, and when we held her just over the ground she would move her legs, as if she wanted to walk. I felt excited and filled with hope. Yet yesterday, she panted much of the day and struggled to hold her head up. And last night, she died. Daniel saw her and asked if she was dead, and I looked at her, and I picked her body up and yeah, I thought so, she was dead. We put her down and covered her with a piece of felt as a blanket.
And today we buried her. Daniel dug a hole and carried her over and I placed in and closed her eyes– to keep the dirt out. Today her body was different to me. cold. stiff. the energy had changed. I felt sad.
sad that we were not able to ’save’ her, ‘heal’ her. sad that she was suffering, in my perception. and hopeful, hopeful that she can run now. and that she doesn’t have to suffer. and I trust in the process.
I am very saddened for your loss. your writing and story was beautiful. I miss you both.