Yesterday was a very sad day. Dear little Jerry passed away. He somehow managed to get his head stuck in between the gatepost and gate of the goat pen, and strangled. I found him like that when I went to feed them yesterday morning. His body was still warm, and I hope that means that it had just happened and that he did not suffer for long.
I was so upset, and cried for about 75% of the day. Mom said that this is just part of farm life. She remembers her relatives (who were all farmers) telling all sorts of horrific stories about fluke deaths and injuries on the farm--of both people and animals. I know these things happen, but it doesn't make it any less tragic. It also doesn't deter me from wanting to keep goats. I'm going to look at it as a live and learn experience, and see what I can do to prevent anything like that from happening again.
Dean has been quite pitiful. He stands by the gate, looking melancholy, and crying all day. He misses his buddy. I am blessed to have a goat-breeder friend who has kindly offered to give me one of his little bucks as a new companion for Dean. What generosity--I am floored! I'm going to go pick the little guy up tomorrow afternoon. He is a purebred Nigerian Dwarf, white and roan with blue eyes, just weaned. I'm thinking of naming him Harvey, in honor of Jerry.
Jerry was a dear, sweet little goat, and I will miss him dreadfully. I'm thankful that I was able to take care of him for a little while, and to enjoy his friendly, feisty personality. Rest in peace, little buddy!