Trouble, the beloved matriarch of my goat herd, passed away today at the age of twelve. After over a decade where she was part of the family, it’s hard to say goodbye.
I wish I could take the time to grieve. With two jobs, it feels like I have to always be focused on my work and being prepared for lessons, and if I step away from those thoughts even for a day, I feel like I will be lost and unprepared. She was important to me, even if no one around me knows or understands that.
Over the years, my goats knew more of my struggles than people did. I would go out with them and lean against their warm sides and cry even when I had no humans to turn to and talk to about what was going on. The goats don’t judge, or tell me it’s all in my head, or invalidate my feelings. They’re simply there, listening, and present.
People could learn a lot from goats.
Ashes Dancing 