howdy…It’s been a minute since I’ve posted here, and the farm had a significant loss since the last time I wrote. If you follow along on social media - Instagram or Facebook - you may have seen that sad update there. I know some of y’all gave up on social media long ago (and I totally get it), but I do still enjoy sharing little pieces of my life on those platforms when I can.
Ellie - my girl, my goat, the last of my very first rescues was humanely euthanized on June 20. She had just turned sixteen this year. Her decline came fast. Just two weeks prior, I had taken a video of her and Ellen, amazed at how chunky and vibrant they still looked. But within a week, Ellie stopped wanting to move. Her joints were cracking, I had to hand-feed her to get her to eat, and she no longer came out to graze. She was clearly struggling in ways that told me she wasn’t comfortable.
So I made the decision I always promised I would: to choose quality of life over quantity, to honor their dignity, and to spare them any unnecessary suffering.
Ellie came into my life alongside Eli when they were both just under a year old. What I didn’t realize at the time was that Ellie was pregnant - I never imagined I’d walk outside one morning to find a tiny white cotton ball of a baby in the field just weeks after their arrival. They had come with their names - Eli and Ellie - so I named their daughter Ellen.
They were the only two goats from their former home, so I knew Eli had to be the father (and as Ellen grew older, it was very clear she was her father’s daughter - ha). I was elated.
That little family of three got to stay together their whole lives. And that’s rare. Most livestock animals don’t get that kind of story. But mine weren’t just livestock. They were something else entirely.
They represented hope. Healing. A new chapter. Looking back, I think I was trying to create a better life for myself, but I didn’t yet know how. So I did what I could - I gave them the life I was still figuring out how to create for me. Safety. Security. All the essentials.
And somewhere along the way, I started learning how to give those things to myself, too.
These past several years have been complicated. Unbelievable at times. Sad and overwhelming, full of losses and hard choices. But 2024 felt like a turning point - a year of letting go. A year of releasing anything too heavy to carry, even if it meant discomfort in the short term. Even if it meant facing change I wasn’t quite ready for.
What I know is this: I want a life that feels aligned. Where my energy goes to things that give back. Where I can rest and rebuild. Where I can look at what I’ve built - on this land, in this life - and feel proud. Not perfect. But proud.
And funny enough, Ellen - the last goat standing - has become a symbol of that next chapter.
Goats are herd animals by nature, and it’s usually really hard on them to be alone. I worried that losing her mom - her sole companion for the last two years - (Eli passed in 2023) would leave her anxious or unsettled. But those fears - those were my emotions, not hers. My own old stories about what it means to be alone. My own unhealthy attachments that kept me in places I’d outgrown. But Ellen is showing me resilience. She’s surprising me.
She’s thriving.
She’s healthy, curious, and seems perfectly content roaming this land on her own - sunbathing, exploring, nibbling, doing her own thing. It’s a kind of peace I didn’t expect. But she’s showing me what it looks like to let go of old roles and still be whole.
Because the truth is, I’ve spent so much of my adult life pouring love into others - into animals, people, and even this land - while unintentionally neglecting myself in the process. As these beloved animals of mine age out of this life, I’ve made a quiet promise to myself: with each loss, I’ll begin taking back that love, piece by piece. And I’ll build something beautiful with it.
So here I am. Making space. Writing again. Breathing a little easier. Living not just for others, but with myself in mind, too.
Still loving. Still building. Still choosing better.
xoxo,
-s
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