than to pronounce the end of winter AKA “Death Season”. Shortly after I did that the weather turned cold, and our old llama and “Old Rooster” wouldn’t walk or eat for 2 days. The weather warmed a little, and they both made remarkable recoveries. I have been trying to make sure all the critters have good nutrition, clean water and adequate shelter. I have been especially worrying about the thin older animals.
But I was not worrying about Monette. She was walking around fine, even running if food was involved. She was eating well and acting normally. Then yesterday morning as I was doing chores I noticed her under the rabbit hutch, not interested in walking or eating, even treats. She died shortly after that. It was such a shock as she wasn’t on my radar to even be concerned about.
She has a special place in my heart for a lot of reasons. The first is that she was one of the lambs from my all time favorite ewe Babette. She was also a star at our wedding, pictured here in front with her brother Bobbitt.
She grew into a nice ewe who enjoyed the occasional scritching but especially treats.
She looked like a little grey puffball in our barn and fields.
She had an expressive face.
I learned how to spin using her mother’s wool, and Monette’s was just like it. Their wool was like a dream for me to spin with it’s softness and its length. It’s hard for me to put into words what it is like, the familiarity and the connection to the animal. It was like spinning butter (if only you could actually spin butter).
She always had a winning personality and was amusing to watch in the pastures.
In addition to gorgeous wool, she also produced lovely lambs. There was Mojo, Mona (who we still have), Monty, Mortimer, Rhett, Scarlett, Mak, Jill, and the triplets Bette, Vette and Velvet (pictured below).
It is hard for me to describe the loss I feel. I will no longer have that beautiful double-coated grey fleece to spin again. I will not have another sheep that looks like Babette. I will never have another amusing little grey puffball running in our fields.
I miss you Monette.