Poor miss Wendy didn’t make it past yesterday afternoon. Nate was headed home from work, tired from 2 long shifts that were practically back to back, ready to take a nap when he got the call that Wendy had somehow managed to hang from her tether. His coworker felt terrible, since they had checked the reach and were sure she couldn’t get off the porch, but I’m guessing she somehow slipped her back legs off and was unable to get them back on the porch and hanged.
A lot of people can’t slaughter any animals, because they think they’re too cute as living animals and the transition from that to dinner meat is hard. It’s harder to find people that think a fully grown cow is cute, so most people that take issue with beef usually don’t like it in the form of veal. Anyway, it may sound shallow, but it’s kind of a fact that grown goats just aren’t as cute as a young billy or nanny, and so the processing of a fully grown goat probably wouldn’t have been so hard. Wendy was only 3 months old, though, had just recently been started on her own, and was wicked cute. We worked hard to get her comfortable and for the oh-so-brief time that we hard her, Nate slept on the couch in the living room where we had her in a large cage so she wouldn’t get lonely and wake everyone up crying for company.
People give us a hard time sometimes about eating meat we kill and process ourselves, but there’s no getting around the difficulty of it. Nate and I didn’t either of us grown up on a rural farm watching slaughter everyday; we’ve taught ourselves homesteading slaughter via YouTube, Google searches, and library books. We care for our animals, and we have a difficult time adjusting, since we are transitioning from a life where we had no relationship with our food to one where we have to frequently look dinner in the face and both apologize and say thank you for the taking and giving of life in a single breath and movement. It’s weighty. Life is heavy and light and not to be taken for granted.