feeding the shadows

At the beginning of the week we lost one of our two bucks, the Doctor. He was 17 pounds, part Flemish Giant, handsome and friendly. He produced great litters that grew big and fast. I don't know how old he was, and I don't know why he died. This is a sad part of life on a farm. In an early morning haste, with town jobs to get to, there was no time for a proper burial. I put him in the compost pile, and planned to come bury him better that evening. When we walked out that night the body was gone, only a tuft of fur remained. It couldn't have been our dogs, because we would have seen them, they would have been right in the front yard. I hate this part of the farm, but I am glad that his body went to nourish some other woodland creature, maybe a fox or coyote. The true circle of life. But that doesn't make it any less sad, we will miss him.

Until next time,

Angela Kelly

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a tribute to Zaphod

It has been nearly a month since the untimely death of our dearest kitty. It is late tonight, I cannot sleep and my mind is filled with grief and sorrow still. I have heard it said that loving animals is only setting oneself up for pain in the end. I may have believed it, but until now I have never felt it. Not to say that I have not lost a pet in the past, in fact several, but fortunately they had all lived long and happy lives before old age and illness took them away. This cannot be said for Zaphod. His life only lasted two short years, and it is the knowing he was meant to spend another decade with us that pains me the most. We adopted Zaphod when he was only five weeks old, a tiny grey fuzz ball too small to eat. He refused a bottle or wet food, and we honestly worried he was not going to survive those first few days. After several trips to the vet for IV fluids and two weeks of force feeding, he accept a bowl of dry food for his first real meal, despite my

a new chapter

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the point is

DISCLAIMER: This post contains material that may be considered graphic or inappropriate to some individuals. Continue at your own risk. You have been warned. Ok.Thanks.Carry on. My aunt, my dad's sister, came to stay last night. She has never stayed the night before, in fact we haven't ever seen her too much, holidays and whatnot. Several times a year. She is a nice lady, but she has some issues, we'll leave it at that. My problem is this: as soon as we arrived home last night, around 9:30 at night, after being gone since 9 that morning, the moment we see each other, the first words out of her mouth are, "you're poor bunny rabbits are freezing to death out there!" Imagine my long exasperated sigh here. Having farm animals isn't the same as having pets. I think Jon Katz said it best in a post last week, "I can give them shelter, warm water, good hay, I cannot make them comfortable or keep them warm, they accept their lives." We raise rabbits

luna acres

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