And there is no way to explain to the baby that the cria was born preemie and couldn’t breathe by itself. We’re all just a sad today about it. We aren’t sure why it happened that way, but to feel better, we went for a walk around our garden. When you work in them every day, you don’t get a chance to really enjoy them as much, but here is some of what we found on our walk:
The water lilies are blooming like mad by the dam:
It doesn’t take the sting out of losing a cria but it made us feel better to see the green after a month of drought here. Sometimes on the farm, sad things occur. Jusr because you’ve been waiting 11 months for an event doesn’t mean it’s going to happen as you expect. We’ll allow Candy, the mom, a few hours in the birthing stall and then allow her back out with the others and the other mom’s can console her.
The death of the cria came on the heels of the death of one of our dearest friends, Cedarheart Nichols, a tribal elder, in a car accident. He is badly missed. He had a good heart and a kindness towards everyone that was unmatched. He was the tribal historian and a traditionalist. I know I will see him in the resurrection. It doesn’t make me miss him less.
So this week has been tough. We shoulder on. We have been working hard in our book department.
We would like to announce that our newest book will be free next week for five days, M-F for all our fans to download and we hope leave reviews on.
And our newest vella is going to be out soon as well: here’s a cover reveal to whet your appitite:
We are still looking for homes for our two Siamese kittens, flame points and friendly, needing new families. And we are going out now to bury the dead. The thing about having a farm is there is always hope for tomorrow; the next new birth will help erase the sadness of the death that just happened; the growth in the garden will aid us in loving more. So we grow, and so we live, loving all and wishing peace to all humans and our four legged and winged brothers.