We love the way we live; have we said that recently? We love the garden fresh vege (a tad repetitive at the moment, but gold stars all round to kale and Brussels sprouts for saving us from scurvy), the home grown eggs, the quackfest of delighted ducks on a stormy night, and the heart-and-hand warming goat cuddles on a frosty morning. Even on the windiest, rainiest, most frosty, ice crackliest mornings, knowing that there’s a happy little band of beings who will be utterly delighted to clap eyes on you (who cares if it’s just because you’re carrying the feed bucket?!) is enough to get you shrugging into the wet weather gear and heading down the path. For us, this is truly The Good Life.
But the thing with living so close to nature is there’s no hiding from that big old circle of life and, in all honesty. why would we want to? Baby chicks, cavorting goat kids, feta and omlettes and the first broad beans of the season: they write poems about that stuff. Well, maybe not that stuff exactly, but you know what we mean, and the basic fact is that to balance the good stuff, you have to cop a fair amount of bad.
Before his arrival, we’d all been very prosaic about hosting Bob for six weeks. He was simply the means to an end; we needed our girls to have kids to ensure next season’s milk supply, and for that we needed Bob. Then he took up residence and quickly stole our hearts.
Bob and his winning ways with our ladies,
his love of the camera,
his delight at dinnertime,
the stealth attack nuzzlings while you were busy in the paddock (which you’d only remember much later in the supermarket queue when you notice your fellow shoppers wrinkling their noses).
The red ring around this Friday was exposed when the diary page was flipped on Monday morning but it came as no surprise; in the same way you never forget dentist appointments, no one needed reminding of Bob’s departure date.
But in that wonderful way life has of keeping you guessing, yesterday had us staring down the barrel of the circle of life at its finest and it turns out Bob will never be leaving the Homestead. Yesterday morning lovely, goofy, sneaky, handsome, virile, chauvinistic, sweet natured Bob wasn’t first to the gate as our boots crunched down the frosty path. He didn’t react to our inane early morning banter or get up from his bed, the best one of course, when we entered the paddock. If we needed our fears confirmed, the sight of our girls standing shoulder to shoulder, a respectful five metres from the gate told all. Maybe it was the shock of electronic caterwauling from the dairy burglar alarm (a false one as it turns out) or maybe his heart was never that strong…all that is incidental.
These things always have their lessons. Bob taught us that no one visits the Homestead without making an impression, we’re not tough enough to do the whole means-to-an-end thing, but we now know that when the worst happens, we roll our sleeves up, grab a shovel, and deal with it.
14 thoughts on “Bye Bye Bob”
Oh no – how distressing for you and the girly goats. Well, he obviously had a great last few weeks and fingers crossed for some baby Bobs or Bobbets as a result of his stay.
We very much hope so, too
Hi guys, I was so sad when Patrick told me today! He was such a nice boy, never caused us troubles and was never sick!! I hope it was peaceful for him. He wasn’t even old! Just coming up three!!sorry u had to deal with it all. Hope he’s done his job for u! Catch up think we need a coffee!!
Lovely work paddys been doing,think he’s found his speciality projects!! Mayb a landscaper!! Xxxx
No, thank you for the loan of such a lovely boy. He was frisky, full on and charming right to the end snuggling up with Ruby when we checked on them last thing that night and there is no doubt the end was swift.
These things happen but it doesn’t make them any less sad. Hope he did his duty before succumbing to whatever was wrong with him.
He was a sweetie, but you are so right in saying these things happen. Life keeps chucking in the odd curve ball, just to keep us on our toes. We’re feeling pretty confident he achieved what he set out to do 🙂
so sorry. It’s always so hard but that’s what homesteading is all about. Hopefully his legacy will live on through one of the girls! Tina
Thanks for your kind words, Tina. It is indeed what it’s all about and what makes the good stuff really good 🙂
That was very bad luck but I am glad that his stay was so rewarding.
I think it took us all a while to realise it was just bad luck, and not bad management.
I have often pondered that question in my life.
Oh, I’m sorry that happened. It’s funny how we have this tendency to want to know WHY, isn’t it? Animals don’t get that option – their companion just stops living, and that’s all they know about it. Well, his end came in a good place, and he’ll rest comfortably.
Glad the alarm at the dairy was false – though that could get boring very quickly if it’s loud enough to cause potential heart attacks in goats across the road.
You’re so right regarding the need to know why whereas the girls are still slightly bewildered that bullyboy Bob who had to be first to the food and paddock visitors, and who kept them running (literally – our chunky girl Leia now has a very loose collar) is not lurking somewhere, ready to pounce.
We were very behind the dairy getting an audible alarm. It seemed terrible that, in the case of all the burglaries, we had been home and seen nothing. Their alarm brings everyone running; we’re not big into vigilante stuff but the more people watching the more details recorded. It is REALLY loud though 🙂