One of the Hard Parts

Death is an inevitable part of life. Especially life on the ranch. From the time I was a little girl I’ve watched animals die. My favorite childhood horses: Spur, Clip Clop, Josie, Lacey. The bum lambs I played with and helped my mom feed. The goats I helped my great grandma take care of. My mom’s old dog. Our old milk cow, Dot. A puppy. A lamb I suckled and built a fire for to keep alive, but it died in my arms anyways. Many lambs. A frozen calf. A cow named Horny. Too many animals that bad winter and spring. My best friend and best help, Villa. An old ewe. A young ewe. A favorite chicken. A lamb I nursed back to health. My sweet Pelagia.

I raised Pelagia as a bum lamb. Feeding her every morning and every night, stroking the beard looking hair under her chin at every feeding (that is where her name came from, St. Pelagia, known as the bearded nun.) After the lambs were weaned for the summer and turned out to pasture, Pelagia would come up to me for a scratch every time I stopped to check on them. For the winter, I kept about 20 of the ewe lambs at Orr where I used them to work and train my dogs. Pelagia was always right by my side for it all. She greeted my little cousins, and helped teach them how to feed her corn out of their little hands. That summer, instead of adding her to the yearling herd that goes to the mountains, I kept her at the ranch so I could still see her. I wouldn’t pet her daily, but every time I’d go into the pen she’d come say hi. Sheep can recognize up to 50 different faces and remember them! And she always recognized me. 

Every winter I am in charge of feeding the purebred ewes at Orr, and of course that is where my Pelagia went so that I could continue to see her every day. To start the winter, I only had a small bunch of 25 2-year-old ewes with 1 buck, and one day they found a way out of their pasture and were missing… When I finally found them I called Pelagia’s name and she came running! They followed me (and the corn I was luring them with and my dog that was in behind them) back to the ranch. 

Pelagia in the lead

While corning the main bunch every morning, it was always the same ewes that were front and center closest to the truck and digging their noses in the bag to get any extra corn they could: Pelagia, an old ewe with a big bottom lip that I call “Big Lip”, an old horned ewe, and a couple others I recognize. I always enjoy pulling into their pasture in the cold mornings, watching them get off their bed, stretch, and make their way excitedly towards me. If I don’t get out of the pickup soon enough, they look in the window and blat at me! Most mornings I find myself singing to them, wishing them a good morning, and admiring their unique personalities and pretty faces. When I step out of the truck to start pouring corn, Pelagia is standing at my door where I usually pause to give her a scratch. 

Pelagia in the lead again

Whenever we had to run the ewes through the corral, Pelagia sure made it easy! I would walk in the front with a sack of corn calling her name, she would follow me all the way to the front of the chute, leading the rest of the herd behind her.   

I bet you can guess the front ewe

This spring Pelagia had her first beautiful set of twin ewe lambs all by herself. While some ewes and lambs will often get separated in the pen and have to look and blat to find each other, Pelagia and her two lambs were always seen right next to each other. The guys also became fond of Pelagia, not petting her like I would, but we would explain pens to each other based on where Pelagia was. “Move the bunch where Pelagia is.” “There’s a sick lamb in Pelagia’s pen.” Etc. 

One day as I was walking through the pasture checking the ewes and lambs, I saw Pelagia and her lambs laying off alone. I didn’t think much of it, as this was pretty normal for them. I walked over, gave Pelagia her rubs and kisses while she laid there, and went to walk away. But something about her seemed off. I felt her ears for heat, down her body, and to her udder, which was very hot. Mastitis… I milked out the side that had the infection, while she kicks at me in pain but never gets up. I felt so awful this was happening and wondered why. We gave her antibiotics to try and help clear it up. The guys insisted we brought her and her lambs back in near the barn to better treat her and supplement the lambs on a bottle, which they refused to drink.

Two days later when I show up, Pelagia is dead. I just stand there and stare at her. I think to myself, this is why you can’t name livestock. This is why you can’t get attached. I wonder why the other ewe that got mastitis is still alive but Pelagia isn’t. I walk away as if she’s just another animal. I tell myself that it’s no different than any other dead sheep. I should be immune to death. Most of the time I think I am. But as I drive away I can’t stop the tears. That night at dinner I couldn't stop crying either. Several days later I found myself crying again, like I am as I write this. 

What a fool for crying over a sheep... I am supposed to be a rancher with a hardened heart to death from being around it all my life. But the truth is, even the “hardest” ranchers cry, and to us an animal isn’t just an animal. They all hold a special place in our hearts even if they aren’t named or are the ornery, wild ones that give us a run for our money. Because these animals are our livelihood. These animals are the family legacy that have been passed down for multiple generations. These animals are what feed and clothe us and the whole world. These animals are what we enjoy spending our time caring for, because if we didn’t we’d go find a better paying job with shorter, easier hours elsewhere. We love these animals.

Pelagia isn’t the only animal I’ve cried over losing, and I know she won’t be the last. But she will always be one of my favorites that I will remember for years to come. And I know I shouldn’t name and become attached to them, but sometimes it’s just so much more fun and brings so much more joy that way, even if it ends with tears.

I read once that crying is God working in you. He definitely did some good work in me with this one.