This has been a tough week and also a good week. Living on a makeshift farm has been quite a lesson for me. We started with two Nigerian tiny goats as "lawn mowers" and now have 12 goats; one of which is pregnant with what look like twins. We also have 29 chickens (8 of which are baby chicks), and five ducks (three of which are ducklings). Oh yes, we have a little lapdog and a cat (f0rmerlly known as "Feral" but now called "Freckles").
We've butchered a few chickens, enjoyed their eggs, and butchered a goat (yet to enjoy the meat). I've nurtured several chickens back to health and lost a couple as well. My pet rooster "Wonky" had a genetic disease that caused his legs to be malformed and had to be put down. That was really hard. I used to hold him and talk to him. I would carry him around the yard so he could have a break off of his crippled legs. He was precious, but his life was short. "Waddles" my golden Aracuana hen broke a toe when she was a chick and I nursed her to health. Her sister "Bingo" was eaten by a predator of some sort.
I lost two baby ducklings earlier this week. They came from a place with less than clean holding cages. The poor babes were in with chickens and geese, which is a real "no no" if you know a thing about poultry and water fowl. I should have known better, but my desire to find mates for my drakes outweighed my common sense.
I had no idea how hard it would be to eat my animals. Hubby butchered a couple of our Cornish hens and it took me months to pull them from the freezer and eat them. I learned important lessons the day I finally made the decision to do so. I found myself nauseous while eating, but had to get past it and enjoy the food. It was a real stretch.
I used to get mad at veterinarians who were hard shelled. I also thought many farmers were a little hardened as well. There is need to become somewhat "hardened" when one farms and eats the meat that is raised. I love meat. I am a real "meat and potato" woman. I used to really hate vocal "vegans" who condemned meat eaters. I have more compassion now that I've actually raised chickens and eaten them and their eggs. Wow, did I say that?
When I first moved from California to Wyoming (in the seventies) I had a friend who volunteered to help another friend butcher 250 chickens in one weekend. I cavalierly volunteered to help. My mother had seen to it that I had many experiences in camping, house keeping, pioneering and the likes so I'm the adventurous type. I ended up pin feathering the chickens after they were killed, gutted, and dunked in boiling water and defeathered. Pin feathering is tough work. Your hands get sore and water logged from the job. My payment was ten chickens. I took them home and carelessly ate them. It just isn't the same as raising and getting to know the chickens you kill.
It isn't easy in any way to raise, feed and get to know an animal only to kill it and eat it. I'm not good at it, but I'm less judgmental of those who chose the vegetarian or vegan lifestyle. Man was initially vegan before the flood. God is the one who told us to eat meat after Noah left the ark. The animals weren't afraid of man before the flood, but God put the fear of man in them after the flood.
I look forward to the day when we won't "have" to eat living creatures. It's coming, but for now someone is out there having to do the hard job of raising and butchering countless animals. I know we won't do this forever, but for now I'm the guardian of a whole boat load of animals. I love them, hold them, nurture them and one day either sell them or butcher them. I have animals designated as "pets" that will live out the full number of their days. They are spoiled and pampered as are our other animals.
The bible says, "A righteous man regards the life of his beast, but the tender mercies of the wicked are cruel." I will always regard the life of my beasts, and I won't ever take them for granted. They may try my patience from time to time, but life is so fragile and precious it must be held in the highest regard whether animal or man.
I am enjoying a quiet morning here at my little corner desk. I can hear my three baby ducklings out in their new yard. I hear birds talking back and forth to one another. I hear the distant buzz of a foreign car starting its engine and driving off. And I hear my refrigerator humming through its cycles.
