Valentina
I spent the last week on a farm-cation, a fancy way of saying I helped a friend on her alpaca farm. She billed it as a 'writing with the alpacas vacation' and I bit. What could be better? A week on a scenic farm in Western Washington where the weather promised to be a lot cooler than in central Texas? The decision was easy. I didn't even care that I might have to do some 'farm work' around the writing and researching I planned to focus on.
What I didn't count on was Valentina.
She was about two and a half weeks old when I met her and three weeks, two days old when I had to say good bye. I knew her a sum total of seven days. That's it. And she completely changed the way I view my life and my survival.
Valentina was born with a nasal abnormality that affected ability to breathe and eat. As alpacas breathe almost exclusively through their noses and only use their mouths when agitated or excited, Valentina's prognosis from the beginning wasn't very good. She struggled from her first breath to her last.
But even though life was tough, she seemed to enjoy the short life she had. Valentina loved cool evenings, a big green pasture, and the feel of the sun on her face. When she felt well enough, she also loved to run. Back and forth, back and forth across the pasture.
The vet told us, when we were trying to decide her fate, that all animals have an undeniable desire to live. They don't know anything different. They will struggle and fight until the very end. It's how they are wired. Humans, I guess (ok, I know), are wired a bit differently. When the going gets tough, we (well, some of us) are tempted to give up the fight, sorely tempted. I know this...because I've been there. I've nearly given up. I have.
In the end, the decision had to be made to stop Valentina's suffering. She lost consciousness once and we thought she was gone. After weeping our goodbyes, she hopped up and proved us wrong. The vet, though, said it was the beginning of what would become a horrible path. My friend, her owner, chose to end Valentina's struggle. It seemed the most humane thing to do. We couldn't be there 24/7 and we didn't want her to die alone in the pasture. She left this world with gentle hands upon her and loving words in her ears.
As an atheist, I don't know where the good little alpacas go when they die, but I'd really like to believe that Valentina is running through a sunny, green pasture somewhere with a fully functioning nose. But even if there is no heaven for baby alpacas, she will live with me and I will never forget what she taught me.
1. Run, even if you don't feel perfect.
2. Enjoy the warmth of the sun every chance you get.
and
3. Struggle and fight for life like it's all you know.
It wasn't exactly what I expected I'd get out of my farm-cation. Not even close. And even though, the week ended on a sad note, I wouldn't trade it for anything.
A little while is always better than no while at all. Always.
What I didn't count on was Valentina.
She was about two and a half weeks old when I met her and three weeks, two days old when I had to say good bye. I knew her a sum total of seven days. That's it. And she completely changed the way I view my life and my survival.
Valentina was born with a nasal abnormality that affected ability to breathe and eat. As alpacas breathe almost exclusively through their noses and only use their mouths when agitated or excited, Valentina's prognosis from the beginning wasn't very good. She struggled from her first breath to her last.
But even though life was tough, she seemed to enjoy the short life she had. Valentina loved cool evenings, a big green pasture, and the feel of the sun on her face. When she felt well enough, she also loved to run. Back and forth, back and forth across the pasture.
The vet told us, when we were trying to decide her fate, that all animals have an undeniable desire to live. They don't know anything different. They will struggle and fight until the very end. It's how they are wired. Humans, I guess (ok, I know), are wired a bit differently. When the going gets tough, we (well, some of us) are tempted to give up the fight, sorely tempted. I know this...because I've been there. I've nearly given up. I have.
In the end, the decision had to be made to stop Valentina's suffering. She lost consciousness once and we thought she was gone. After weeping our goodbyes, she hopped up and proved us wrong. The vet, though, said it was the beginning of what would become a horrible path. My friend, her owner, chose to end Valentina's struggle. It seemed the most humane thing to do. We couldn't be there 24/7 and we didn't want her to die alone in the pasture. She left this world with gentle hands upon her and loving words in her ears.
As an atheist, I don't know where the good little alpacas go when they die, but I'd really like to believe that Valentina is running through a sunny, green pasture somewhere with a fully functioning nose. But even if there is no heaven for baby alpacas, she will live with me and I will never forget what she taught me.
1. Run, even if you don't feel perfect.
2. Enjoy the warmth of the sun every chance you get.
and
3. Struggle and fight for life like it's all you know.
It wasn't exactly what I expected I'd get out of my farm-cation. Not even close. And even though, the week ended on a sad note, I wouldn't trade it for anything.
A little while is always better than no while at all. Always.
Stacee, thank you so much for being my rock during that week and for loving Valentina as much as I do. Even though she is gone, she is still running "back and forth, back and forth" across my heart. As hard as it was to lose my first cria, she taught us both well. And she is the little spark that has little a fire for the future!
ReplyDeleteThis is one of the many reasons I love you so much. Your heart overflows with kindness, love, patience, empathy and so much more. xoxo
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