We said goodbye to our sweet, sweet Jersey Cow, Faith.
I could spend a decade wondering if we did all the right things, if we should have done something differently. If there was some way to save her.
This would not only not help, it wouldn’t bring Faith back, and certainly won’t help me sleep.
The bottom line is that when my husband found Faith in the field last Wednesday morning it was already over. It was too late. No medicine, no doctors, nothing short of a miracle could stop what had already started.
Her kidneys failed.
Our wonderful vet couldn’t detect the kidney failure at first. He suspected it when she did not regain her appetite after a week. He ran some blood-work which confirmed it. Her results were so high they wouldn’t even register on his lab reports.
Faith was given less than a week to live before the kidney failure would get the victory. She was immobile. The only thing keeping her upright was the fence she was leaning against. She was suffering terribly. We did the most loving thing we knew to do.
She died in her home. Where she was loved. Where she was our pet cow. Where my children hugged her neck, scratched her behind her ears, and played “Trinka, the pioneer cow” with her. She died where she spent the best years of her life.
There too, she was buried.
I know there are many (sustainable) folks who may see that as a terrible waste of good beef. We could not bear the thought of our beloved, milk-cow becoming burgers, dog food, or a couch.
She was laid to rest in the field she loved.
Goodbye Faith. Thanks for all the love, memories, and food. We will miss you.