A death...

The inevitable part about animals is that they die.

We were still sorrowing for VJ's puppy Charlie, when another loss struck.

Fritz was milking, VJ was feeding. It was dark in the barn. Erica didn't come to the feed trough. VJ went to find her, and tripped over her body.

She was lying in the middle of the barn, cold, with her tongue hanging out and foam in her mouth.

We never knew why she died. It could have been a poisonous plant in the new hay a neighbor had given us. Or it could just have been the change in hay.

It mattered so we could prevent the same thing happening to another goat. There she was, one of our milkers, VJ's goat, bred for spring babies, and she was dead.

John dug another hole in the ground and buried her.

Her death made us feel more vulnerable in this undertaking of ours.