Not everything on the farm is red barns and green fields. Some of the life isn’t life at all. This morning I buried my sister’s old one-eyed, rescued weiner-dog, named Sophie. I didn’t know it would be so hard. I went over to feed, expecting the worst. I am dog sitting, and Sophie wasn’t doing well at all. She was gone when I got there. After wrapping her up, a trip to Dad’s for a shovel because I couldn’t find one at either sisters’, I started digging. That part was physical, but it wasn’t the hardest part. I can dig a hole. It was saying good-bye to a good little dog, and knowing that it is inevitable for us all.
I saved a kitty’s life, and buried a dog this summer. I raked grass for cattle, chased a steer, and helped fence a pasture. I guess I’m a farm girl.