Grief comes in different ways to different people. It seems to me that the longer it is prolonged the less intense it will be. A grandparent that lingers for a long time is easier to send on than one that is suddenly lost. And a goat that is watched over ends up being begged of God to take. Our friendliest goat, Buttercup, became ill on Thursday. I called in the Extension Agent to see what could be done. We looked on the internet, contacted people who may know, and decided she had Pregnancy Toxemia. Really there wasn't much that could be done, and what we did seemed to only delay the inevitable. She died yesterday morning. The whole family is stressed and depressed by it. Buttercup was #1's goat officially. He chose to ignore her plight and play with friends that came to visit, or even just to play by himself. I thought it was probably for the best because Buttercup was in a lot of pain and I didn't think the child needed to see that. But last night when it sunk into his brain that she was gone, he had a lot of guilt to deal with. He felt like he should have done something and not just play with his friends. The other issue is what to do with the body. If I were at home I would put it on the tractor and haul it over the hill. That isn't an option here. So I plan to contact the Animal Shelter and see if she can be cremated. #1 is NOT happy with this option, but I think we are going to have to take the lead and do it. If he is scarred for life, it will be my fault I suppose. He says he will dig the grave himself, but I know how long that would last. Being a parent is not always fun. ________________ An hour of hard work and sweat has Buttercup buried in the field. My father assured me that all I needed to cover her with is 12-18 inches of dirt, so I did away with the mother guilt by burying the goat. The other animals have been noticibly human in this ordeal. Darkie is #2's goat and she is the quiet, timid one. She always has to eat last and gets butted quite a bit, seemingly just for being alive. Darkie came to us at the same time Buttercup did, and Buttercup would sometimes look after Darkie. While Buttercup was lying in the pen dying, Darkie kept wanting in to check on her. She would lie down beside her or lie out by the gate to her pen as if she was guarding it. When I would check on Buttercup through the night, Darkie would look at me every time I left as if to say, "Aren't you going to do something?" It was as hard on her as any of us, I think. As I dug the hole today the other nannies mostly ignored me. Elvis had to be in the middle of everything, even falling in once! He seemed to be supervising. Then when I pulled Buttercup into the grave, all of the goats came to watch. I felt like I was at a funeral. After she was mostly covered, the nannies left. Elvis remained to see the job done. He peed on her grave a couple of times and that was that. Now that may not sound romantic to you, but that is how a billy attracts a nanny. I like to think he was kissing her good-bye.