A Rough Weekend
It was a rough weekend here on the farm. Once again, I have a broken-hearted little bean on my hands. The Bibbed wonder is in all kinds of trouble and not the most popular individual on the farm. We lost the sickly little piglet, and Sugar, the large black sow, delivered two piglets, but one was stillborn. These days make me wonder why we do what we do. I think it would be easier to sell everything and move to Belize...sigh.
Let us begin with my bean. Many of you know, the Bean worked diligently to save an abandoned baby goat which we kept in the house for a week. This girl's tenacity is what kept this tiny little orphan alive. The baby goat was named Finn, and he was a delight. Not only was he a delight, but he also adored The Bean. They had a powerful bond. If The Bean were outside and Finn spotted her, he cried until she would come to him. If she were in the pasture and called to him, he would come running and calling from anywhere. It was lovely to watch, and I am very proud of her. She is a very loving, caring, big-hearted kid.
The Bibbed Wonder has told The Bean all along she could not keep Finn. He launches into the speech, "We don't need another useless neutered boy goat. We (the girls) don't buy the feed, clean the barn, or buy the hay." The Bean tried to bargain with him, offered him her 4-H money, and told him she would help clean the barn, but it was useless. I thought my husband was just blowing smoke. You see, he likes to do this. He has a pattern of behavior that is predictable, annoying, but predictable. He likes to huff and puff and acts like he is a big meanie. However, when the smoke has dissipated, and he feels like he has had his say, he usually comes around to my way of thinking. I even brazenly told The Bean in private not to worry; her dad would not sell her goat. Well, dear reader, he called my bluff. Of all times to call my bluff, he picked this one.
Saturday, I did the weekly grocery shopping. I was gone for almost three hours, and just as I was pulling out of the parking lot of the grocery store, I got a tearful phone call. Two individuals came to the farm and bought four of our babies. Finn was one of them. My poor bean. All I could do was console her and rush home. As soon as I got home, she flung herself into me and sobbed. I discerned that the individuals were a father, daughter, and granddaughter from State College. The Bean said they were very nice people and she likes them. She said they knew when they arrived that they wanted to buy Finn because they had seen him on our Facebook posts. They also bought Finn's best friend and two others; a beautiful spotted boy they would keep as their billy and another little girl. The Bean was furious at her dad because she said he knew they were coming and wanted Finn. I was not aware of this. He had kept a tight lip all week to maintain order and avoid drama. I was not impressed.
I sat her down and explained that although it is painful to lose him, he has a good home, is with his best friend, and will make this family very happy. You see, the gentleman's wife has had a stroke and is incapacitated. The family brings the goats into the house, and his wife cuddles them on her lap while sitting in her wheelchair. For all the joy and love this little goat has brought into our lives, he is going to go on and bring an even greater gift to someone who really needs him. We looked up the family on Facebook, and the first video is of the gentleman dancing with one of his goats. Their barn was new and clean, the fence was stable and strong, and it appeared as if there is plenty of pasture. I felt confident Finn was in good hands. However, The Bean was not having any of my positivity. Actually, the look on her face told me I could take my Little Mary Sunshine approach and stick it somewhere unpleasant...sigh.
When I found The Bibbed Wonder in the garage, the first thing I did was punch him in the arm. His response was, "Owww, why did you do that?" I retorted, "That is for selling our baby's goat! You douche canoe!" The Bibbed Wonder looked sheepish than a bit forlorn. He explained that he had gotten a message earlier in the week but didn't know if the people would follow through, so he didn't say anything. He also thought The Bean was with me. I explained that if he had sold her goat out from under her, Jordan would never forgive him. The forgiveness thing is looking a bit bleak for him as it is. He reluctantly agreed and further explained his reasoning.
You see, dear reader, although I can't entirely agree with my husband, I understand. We are to the point with our herd that we don't need any more goats. Once the babies are weaned and sold, our herd will be almost twenty of just dairy goats. We will also have five meat goats for a total of twenty-five goats. Twenty-five goats who need their feet trimmed every month, fed every day, milked twice a day, wormed twice a year, vet checked twice a year, and looked after daily. That is a lot of care, even if it's split between the three of us. We simply can't take on another goat for the sake of being a pet. Although I hate to see my dear little bean upset, the reality is Finn could not have gone into a better situation. He is with his BFF and two other familiar friends. He is with a family who knows goats and has a lovely farm. He will also be loved upon daily and bring happiness to someone who could really use a dose of happiness. Is it a hard lesson to teach and learn? The answer is absolutely. However, will it work out best for everyone? The answer to that is also absolutely.
The Bean will eventually heal from the loss of her beloved little charge. It is going to be a long process with a lot of ups and downs. Although she was able to see two of her friends yesterday, she was still sad at bedtime. My heart breaks for her, but this is the life of a farmer. Again, selling it all and moving to Belize sounds very appealing at the moment.
As always, dear reader, stay safe, stay smart; I hope you had a good weekend, and of course, wash your hands.