Ma died a little after 11 a.m., I shot her once in the back of the head with my .22 rifle, and then fired three rapid shots into her heart, her death was instant and, I believe, painless. I always feel it’s my responsibility to put the animals down if I can do it. I write about what I call the real lives of real animals, I live on the boundary between pets and animals. I have both, and on a farm, you learn how to let go or it will eat you up.

Ma was sick for the past few weeks, fluids oozing from her mouth and and she was increasingly disoriented, it was time. Deb, her only surviving offspring, came and stood by her, and then, as sheep will, she moved away to graze. Deb lost her brother Jake as well in June. Real animals do not live in a no-kill world. Ma dropped to the ground, her body heaved and twitched for a minute or so, as happens with animals when they die.

Ma was a big and bumbling sheep, I always thought of her as dumb, brave and strong. She came to us as a rescue sheep, she had not been shorn in a couple of years, her coat was felted.

But she also had the wisdom of animals in her, I saw that as well. Maria and I both did visualizations with her today, we talked with her, Maria got a strong message that said “it doesn’t matter. We are one thing.” I sat down with her and got an equally strong message from her, “I am ready to go, let me go.” Her body was worn out, she still had spirit in her. Our friend and neighbor Jack MacMillan came over in his truck and hauled the body away to the deep woods. Deb Foster, our house and pet sitter came by to say goodbye to Ma. Deb and the other sheep are out grazing.

This morning, it was an obvious decision, but Ma rallied mid-morning and we weren’t so sure. We decided to go ahead, it was an inevitable thing and I believe she was suffering.