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Wilbur gets his wings and Ollie plays in snow

Sophie was his designated hospice nurse

"Wilbur got his wings!" 
Old Sophie told the goats as she came out of Wilbur's convalescing suite. Sophia had been designated as Wilbur's roommate as he lay in his suite, unable to rise, for the past two weeks.

"Will I get wings too?" asked little Ollie.

"Someday, Ollie, but not now, it is not your time for wings, you have to earn them in your own way," said Sophie.

After two weeks of effort, Wilbur is free of his body.

Wilbur began to show signs of his age this past summer, but nothing alarming. Right around when we learned that Birdie had suffered from the brain worm-something that was new to us- I think it was about this time I noticed Wilbur lay down more, but that in and of itself is nothing to be alarmed by with an older goat. He was not lame, he was not showing any signs of the same worm that crippled Birdie for weeks and damaged her nerves. We fortunately got to Birdie quickly, and learned from our vets the protocol and were able to treat Wilbur for the brain worm too. It could be other things. It could be a tumor or wasting disease/cancer, it could be some other diseases my vet said, or a combination, and it could be old age combined with all those things.

For a good two weeks we have fought together, and his eyes and attitude were with me, he had not given up. Until a couple days ago, I could tell he was just plain tired and uncomfortable. I kept thinking of the story of the llama who was downed for one year, and the couple kept trying, and wouldn't give up, and one day, she rose. But Wilbur could not even put weight on his feet, and they were curved now. Since he was downed, I went in morning noon and night and got him up, cleaned his bedding, sat with him, gave hm water and food. The last two days, his body could not swallow, and when the vet came today, we immediately put him down because he was in clear discomfort. I have found a vet I truly love, and I've been working with her now about a year and have learned so much. There is so much to understand about deworming, not deworming, when to deworm or not to, learning your area, etc-and I've learned this year many things that make me a better caretaker, even after 15+ years you can always learn and grow. I don't think any of it would have saved Wilbur, in fact it probably would have just prolonged his life slightly, if that.

I have spent so much time with him, and I have been putting Sophie with him too at night and during the day. While chores are being done, I let the other Misfits come by and visit, and eat together. The animals already know, except Ollie, what is to come. They say their goodbyes in such a different way. They come and sniff a dying member, and there is no drama, just recognition. It is always beautiful and sad too to be part of these intimate herd moments.

With each passing of one of the Misfits that came to us long ago, and lived out West with us, it is like another string to that floating farm in the sky being cut. I will miss this sweet goat. Once a brilliant acrobat, he could fly through the air with the greatest of ease, and once even had a trapeze-it is said in the barnyard but I never got to see it. To watch an athlete's body disown him, it is hard.

This morning, when I knew the vet was coming, I told him his wings were ready for him, they were right with me for whenever he needed them.

And sometime around ten this morning, he put those wings on and took one last look at me. We all stood together and watched the light of the sky change and the shadows on earth were magnified for seconds.

"Will he come back?" Ollie asked Sophie.

"No," she said.

And Ollie ran outside to play on the snowy compost pile.

Once a day, The Misfits were allowed in to eat and commune with Wilbur

In his younger days-he had the sweetest smile

One of my favorite photos of him in his youth

Wilbur aka The Acrobat Goat...now you know why

The moon for a new year

I spent the week getting the end of year books done, and am pleased that we did so well with the first full year of the non profit. We are starting the year without any debt encumbering us as we move forward, a barn addition was built, the hay is in, the vets are always paid pronto and the feed/costs I estimated were pretty spot on. There is so much we've accomplished, and so much more to do, and learn, and grow.

I want to put more art back into he mix though-I want to open the barn up for drawing days, where people can come for one to two hours with their own drawing tables, sit amongst certain animals and draw, or write, whatever they choose.

I want to find better ways to see people in the winter with the Llama of Love, and work on helping The Teapot become a therapy guide.

I want to have some doll workshops.

I want to expand the Old Kitty Knitty Club to do good with their knitting needles.

I want to have more time with Boone next spring.

I want to never forget the amazing presence of the moon...the circle.

You have noticed that everything an Indian does in a circle,

and that is because the Power of the World always works in circles,

and everything tries to be round.

In the old days all our power came to us from the sacred hoop

of the nation and so long as the hoop was unbroken the people

flourished. The flowering tree was the living center of the hoop,

and the circle of the four quarters nourished it. The east gave peace

and light, the south gave warmth, the west gave rain and the north

with its cold and mighty wind gave strength and endurance. This

knowledge came to us from the outer world with our religion.

Everything the power of the world does is done in a circle.

The sky is round and I have heard that the earth is round like a ball

and so are all the stars. The wind, in its greatest power, whirls.

Birds make their nests in circles, for theirs is the same religion as ours.

The sun comes forth and goes down again in a circle. The moon

does the same and both are round. Even the seasons form a great

circle in their changing and always come back again to where they were.

The life of a man is a circle from childhood to childhood, and so it is

in everything where power moves. Our teepees were round like the

nests of birds, and these were always set in a circle, the nation’s hoop,

a nest of many nests, where the Great Spirit meant for us to hatch our children.

Black Elk, Holy Man of the Oglala Sioux 1863-1950

The Morning Chew...with Goose & Llama

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A post shared by Katherine Dunn / Apifera Farm (@katherinedunnapiferafarm) on Dec 28, 2018 at 5:26am PST

The Annual Christmas Garland Festival -the importance of tradition

I wasn't thinking I could pull it off this year, with this head/sinus cold going on day nine....but I rose with the Christmas spirit and we had our annual Christmas Garland Festival yesterday. I'm so glad I made it happen. Amazingly, except for Moose and Goose, everyone was on tip-top behavior and this year the garland did not suffer as it has in some past festivals. Even the blind chicken partook.

The garland was a gift to me many years ago from an Apifera follower. I liked it so much-it was handmade out of felt, buttons and jingle bells-that I decided to share it with the barnyard for Christmas photos, and it immediately turned into an annual tradition.

Many of the traditions I had as a child for Christmas are gone, mainly because we keep things very simple around here, and without children or extended family, our holidays are spent like many nights-by the fire with some spirits and good conversation. I cherish our time together. I spent a lot of energy in my youth complete with broken hearts and bad choices looking for a solid mate and friend, so when I met Martyn at age 42, I had no problems with spending time with him. We are rarely apart, but also have very independent lives during the days. I like being with him.

We honor the spirit of Christmas by celebrating with a Charlie Brown tree harvested from The Wood, and in so doing we create more light for the other trees. The tree goes onto the barnyard for the goats to eat and so we honor the gift of food from Nature. So that s a tradition we created. And The Garland Festival has become an Apifera tradition, and it matters. Why? Well, despite all the chaos of life and the world, knowing that there is a day when a beautiful red and green garland-made by hand and given in friendship-will adorn the animals that we care for, it brings a sense of stability. It reminds us that a tradition s something we create, and do over and over, and it shows those watching or partaking what our true values are.

We nourish each other with good food, and warm ourselves with the fire made hot by the wood Martyn has chopped from the our land. That is tradition.

The Garland Festival is something I like to do for the animals too. I really think most of them understand this is a special activity just for them. The one that really made me smile was Birdie. The second I put it on her, she literally posed, she must have stacks of old Vogue magazines that she knows how to stand just like Grace Kelly. She truly loves to be admired but not really in an ego way, it is the same feeling I had about her on Misfit Love Day when I put the crown on her head-she was working the crowd with love and...well, her beauty.

You can see all the photos from this year's Festival on our Instagram feed. And past years too can be seen right here on the blog.

Inviting little me in...where is your wonderment

I'd love to invite her here for a day. Oh the questions I would ask her. The look on my face shows me that even then I did things with strong intention. And Christmas was a wonderful time in our family, right through the final years of my parents' lives.

I am thinking of a lot of people this year, some gone, some are still here but are in suffering states due to people they've lost, or illnesses. So the fact I've had a sinus cold for 9 days now-it seems to finally be clearing but is taking forever-I can't complain when I see so many others in such sadness.

So I'm focusing on the wonders I had when I was this little girl, she still lives with me of course. I was going to the car, and heard a bird, looked up and there was a big jay, so blue, so bold blue against the then grey sky. And I thought,

Imagine the first time you saw a Blue Jay...

That is what Christmas is for me-the wonderment of acknowledging everything this earth, and universe brings into a daily life. The amazing way a heart can seek out what it needs after it has been hurt, the way new friends can enter one's life when you need them most, the way a song can make you cry as it transports you back to a moment you do want to feel even if it makes you miss someone...the way the cat, goat, or horse sound each morning.

Merry Christmas everyone. Happy Holidays. May you feel some wonderment today, even if sandwiched in all the craziness of the current situation we are all facing as Americans...but as importantly, as humans and Earth dwellers.

Moon over The Great Whites, a greeting from a father gone

The moon has been spectacular these last couple of nights. When there is a full moon, I always say,

"Hello, Bob."

Bob was my father, gone since 2008. The day he died he literally became the wind to me, it was so visceral. My skin and body were electrified after he died, I could feel so close to him just by the wind. I had never experienced that before. And that night, the full moon appeared, and I did not hesitate, it was him.

So it was not quite a full moon, but close enough to greet him.

I had been doing barn chores and turned around and there was the moon, right over White Dog. I think this is the blessing of the darn iPhone, I can't lug a camera all over during chores, but that is when so much happens that is the fabric of the life here. I asked him to stand while I got my camera out, and good molly goodness, he did. Thanks, Benedetto, it has been a very well received photo. And then leaving that field for the house, there was Birdie.

Beautiful. A moon over a llama, my llama. How many creatures were bather in that light last night?