I've had a big Saanan wether for about five years now. He's been a great goat. He never had any economic value. He's always just been kind of a pet. A companion. When I was having a rough day, or if I just needed to take some time to get grounded I would go out to the goat pasture and sit with him. He had all kinds of funny expressions. He would nuzzle up against my shoulders and try to eat the buttons off my favorite shirts. We named him Caspian after Prince Caspian in the Narnia series.
Problem was, Caspian always had a genetic issue with his knees and legs. It would come and go, and we would always wonder whether this was the time we should finally put him down. He didn't seem to be in a great deal of pain, but it was hard to see a 200 pound goat crawling around on his knees.
When we decided to put him down, I sobbed. It took a couple of more days to find the time to take care of it and I was overcome by emotion several more times. I was a little frustrated with myself. This is a farm after all. Farm animals come and go. It's probably best not to get too emotionally attached to them. He's just a smelly, crippled, old goat after all. How hard should this be? But somehow this was different than sending a beef cow to the butcher. He was my buddy.
And so the time came. A few rough caresses. A little treat in the grain bucket. A quick goodbye. And a .32 caliber bullet to the head.
Goodbye Caspian my old friend. Go gently into that good night.
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