There is one thing about living on a farm... you will experience life
and death. I was chatting with a co-worker today about how his
children had to bury one of their chickens. His son had put the chicken
in an enclosure to keep it "safe", but didn't realize that the chicken
would get heatstroke in the safety of being in the space. I, too, had
experienced death today. I saw a sow being escorted from her pen and
noticed that she was limping. The workers had her in a chute, where
they shot her in the head and she died instantly. I could tell she was
ill, and I believe that she knew she was about to die, as she was just
sorta grunting along until the worker pulled out the gun, at which time
she let out a horrible scream that ended as soon as I heard the shot.
I
remember taking a hammer and killing as many baby mice as we could out
of the corn crib when I was little. I remember watching baby sheep and
goats die from deformity or from a mother laying on them. I saw my
chickens and ducks get partially eaten by raccoons and opossum.
For
all the death that you see when you live in the country and are around a
farm, there is an equal amount of life and birth that occurs.
The
farm where I now live produces an astronomical amount of pigs every
month. I heard a shipment of about 1200 baby piglets leave the farm
earlier this week. I remember waking up in the middle of the night to
go out to the barn to watch my mom and grandparents help a ewe birth her
lamb(s). I got to raise chickens from baby chicks.
I don't
think that I have a warped sense of life and death from these
experience, but a realistic one. I know of people, including people
that I love, who don't want to accept the reality that we all will die.
Reality is that that we are all dying... that every living thing is
part of that cycle of life and death and birth. I think that many
people would be well served if they experienced that cycle first hand, as I have been able to here, growing up in and now returning to this rural area.
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