A Terrible Quiet

Just when the wings of time got started again, there is nothing we can do but stop them.

Atticus had a sore paw and it seemed to go away and then a couple of days ago it got much worse, and he could hardly walk. He was huffing in pain whenever he limped anywhere. Today he went to the vet. The farmer was awfully worried he might have a nail in his paw but there didn't seem to be any way it could have gotten in.

But the farmer kept thinking: what if he has a nail in his paw? What then? He will have to wear a special boot. Maybe the saddlemaker over by the county line can make a special custom boot for him.

They took the x-rays and he didn't have a nail in his paw. He had bone cancer. And he was too big for them to do anything. A Pyrenees cannot walk on three legs. Especially not one as magnificent as Atticus.

And so today on a beautiful summer afternoon, Atticus went out of this world.

And the farmer came home alone from the vet.

And now all over the farm there is a terrible quiet.

I had no idea it could ever be so quiet.

The Gossamer Wings Etc

First of all I am very annoyed. Our farmer got a job in the city and would not write the blog for me. Everything passed unremarked as if it never happened. The kids, the hay, the unfortunate incident with the tractor, the thing that happened where Atty injured his paw, Wendell's shocking incontinence. Nothing entered into eternity on the gossamer wings of my blog.

THIS GOAT'S LIFE stood still.

The lettuce bolted to the size of a Christmas tree and nobody picked it. The farmer only wanted to sleep when not driving back and forth to Seattle to work at the stupid job which has nothing to do with Nigerian Dwarf dairy goats. This was very selfish.

My children Ringo and Izzy did not get fully documented as they should have been. This was not correct. That little brown one whatever his name is, Jimson Weed I think, hardly got documented at all but that's fine, who cares, he is just a little brown goat. Also Cherry's crazy little bunny rabbit daughter did not even get a name yet. That's how bad it was. When she gets a name it will probably be something like "Cherrybunny" or "Bunnybing" which is just sad.

The neighbor lady had to come and milk the milkers. Actually the neighbor lady did a much better job than our farmer but nobody mentioned that. Big Orange even got used to the neighbor lady.

The horses got tremendously fat from eating constantly and never getting any exercise. The neighbors from Longbranch had to come and put all the hay in the barn. Four hundred bales. That was completely unheard of. The idea of someone else putting your hay in the barn. It's shocking. They don't even have neighbors like that in the city. They only exist in the country.

Well anyway now there is going to be a big party. For the end of summer. There will be fiddlers. Or at least one fiddler. Unless the fiddler cancels.

But anyway. Time will start flapping its gossamer wings again.

Soon.