Life is Beautiful

WARNING: This post is sad but eye-opening.

 

Just yesterday, I experienced something and learned a lesson that I will never forget. Mike and I had taken the truck to an old barn to take some of the roofing off to make shades for my steer calves. As Mike drove through the tall grass, we suddenly heard something cry. We jumped out of the truck to see if we hit something. Sadly, we did. As I searched I almost stepped on it; it let out a cry.

The fawn as I sat with her and tried to get her to stand

I was horrified to see a tiny fawn. It couldn’t stand and was not moving its hind legs. We felt her body to see if she had any broken bones; I suspected something had happened to her spine. While Mike returned to work, I sat with the baby. I so desperately wanted her to stand and walk. I held her in my arms, petted her soft fur, spoke softly to her as she occasionally let out a cry. I don’t believe it was out of pain, but that she was calling her mother.

After some time, Mike called me. He needed my help. I could hardly talk, not wanting to allow the tears to flow in front of him. Before getting back in the truck, we both looked to see if the fawn was still there. My hopes soared when I didn’t see her where I had left her, but they plummeted when I followed the trail of flattened grass to see she had dragged herself.

I didn’t want to leave her, but I knew I couldn’t make her better. I couldn’t stop thinking about her, wondering what would happen to her. I needed advice so I called my dad. I imagined he would just say, “that’s the circle of life.” But he didn’t. He told me to do what I thought was right. So I called one of the stakeholders of my research project who is a vet. Again, I was surprised by how willing he was to help. He explained that he didn’t have a certification to do wildlife rehab, but he would humanely euthanize her if I brought her to his office.

I immediately jumped in my car, parked outside the gate, and climbed over. I ran down the gravel road to get her. I tried to follow the tire trail to find her. But the grass was so tall and thick. I listened for her cries. Silence. I was not going to leave until I found her. Finally, I did but it was too late. She had passed. I again held her in my arms, ran my hands along her body, and spoke to her. I had never held something so beautiful, delicate, and peaceful. I kissed her on the forehead, and placed her in a safer place. After I told her goodbye and said a prayer, I walked empty-handed back to my car. It felt endless.

I was so disappointed that I didn’t make it in time and couldn’t be there for her. I felt horrible. I could not stop thinking about her and what I could have done differently. While I was glad she passed peacefully and wasn’t put through any further pain, I wanted to be there. She shouldn’t have been alone. But I hope she felt loved, respected, and cared for.

That day, not only did I realize just how beautiful and fragile life can be, but I also learned how important it is to stay true to myself. If something like this had happened back at home, I would have driven her right to the vet. But here, I was worried people would think I was silly for caring so much. Now I know that I should never compromise my devotion for animals. No matter where I am, I will always be the same. I am me. I may be crazy, people may think I’m "too sensitive," but I am me and I won’t be ashamed to do what I feel is right.

The Serenity Prayer

God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.

 

As always, thanks for reading. It felt great to put my feelings into words and share them with you all.

P.S. I also found some baby mice (I'm guessing) in one of my pastures today. It brightened my day, reminding me that while there is death, there is new life.

Here are some pictures of the little pinkies!