Ma’s time has come, she has stopped eating and is oozing music and other fluids, she is ill. We heard a message from her this morning – Maria did – it said, “it doesn’t matter, we are one.” I’ve always joked about Ma, calling her the dumbest sheep, but there is a wisdom and strength about her, she nearly died giving birth to Deb this Spring, but she is old and has been through a lot.

This morning, she was utterly disoriented.

I’ve decided to put her down myself, I’ll shoot her as I have other sheep in the past, it is quick and merciful, and I feel a responsibility to our animals to help them leave the world in safety and comfort if I can, rather than die at the hands of a stranger. I think we will put her down this morning, Deb Foster, our farmsitter, wants to come and say goodbye first. More later.

The ground is already too hard to bury her, so we will figure out a way to take her into the deep woods, and offer her to the coyotes and animals there.