Heaven just got a bit grumpier...goodbye, Rosie

"She is gone," I told them.

As I sat with the body I could here the news spreading amongst the animals,

"Rosie is dead,"

"Rosie has died,"

"It's over,"

and on and on until the last creature was informed.

I placed a drop of oil on her body,

"May you not feel any more pain, and may you never be cold, and may you find a good cloud, and may you see Stevie again," I said.

I wrapped her body in her pink blanket, made just for her, embroidered with words so carefully placed,

"The World's Grumpiest But I Am Fine As I Am Pig ~ Rosie"

We placed her in our clam sled, and began the slow march to the front garden, a place we had gathered before over the last couple of years. As the animals stood in front of the freshly dug hole in the Earth, Martyn helped me lower Rosie's body into the ground, her pink blanket covering her to keep her forever warm. I placed a shroud over her eyes, a shroud made from Assumpta's wool. Burial items had come from afar, and I placed each one, thoughtfully, and carefully around her body. I placed feathers with her for flight, a toy llama for safety, a pig for a reminder of what she once was, and on the top, a red rose.

Earnest stood of to the side, he had dressed in his formal cape and bow tie. The goose, who had slept amongst Rosie in the last two weeks, also came. White Dog watched. Pino and Paco both said their goodbyes,

"I remember when you arrived," said Pino. "I remember when you could run."

"I understand you," said Paco. He placed a slip of paper in the grave, with a special, private poem to Rosie.

Earnest said not one word.

We covered the body in ancient soil, perhaps Civil War heros who once lived here had touched it long ago.

When the final dirt was spread, Opie pointed to the sky,

"Look, it's Rosie, she has beautiful polk-a-dots now!"

The animals had paid their final respects, and as they left they all bowed to the nearby grave of The Head Troll. Martyn returned to the house.

I knelt down, and whispered one last time,

"Oh, Rosie!"

As I returned to the house, it was still, and clear, and crisp. I heard a rustling, clouds appeared over head, tree branches snapped, and a distinctive hrumf-grrr-arrrr-hrumpf sound echoed in my hear.

Heaven just got a little grumpier.

Burial shrouds for a pig...preparing to let go

A beautiful item for Rosie's resting spot from Lisa Hofmann

A couple of weeks ago, I mentioned on the Apifera social media pages that it was becoming clear to me that I have to face facts about Rosie the pig. Both Martyn and I feel that it is becoming less of a 'good' life for her and I might have to put my big girl pants on and help her to the next realm. Rosie is old, crippled, blind and her hind end is weaker and weaker. The vet said a couple years ago it could even be a spinal issue. She mainly sleeps, and this summer never left the barn. With another cold winter approaching, I worry that she can't properly watch out for herself as she tries to stay warm. She is not as good at making her pig bed [covering herself in huge mounds of straw]. Each night I try to make sure she is fully covered, but that doesn't mean she doesn't get up and move around and get uncovered and not adequately recovered.

We tried a blanket for her, made graciously by a pig lover who likes to make pot bellied pig blankets. But even though I altered it slightly, to help her from tripping up on it, she kept getting stuck in it, due to her weak condition. I felt it was unsafe. She now will trip more, and falls every now and then. She trembles too, all summer, like Katherine Hepburn did.

So, I feel I have to be strong and do what is right for her. I am not sure why I am having such a tough time with this one. Each animal is precious of course, some get us in the heart strings worse than others. Some of you might not know Rosie's story, but I will tell you that she is a very difficult pig. She really doesn't act like all the other pigs I know. She is grumpy and has been grumpy since she landed at Sanctuary One after her elder owner died. Rosie had been living like a royal highness in the house, in a room with her own bed and furniture. When she got to the sanctuary, she was so grumpy no other animals would have anything to do with her-nor she them, except one crippled goat, Stevie, who ended up coming to Apifera with Rosie. That is a whole 'nother story, a good one too.

So she has been a challenge. No vets liked to work on her, nail trims were impossible and I'd spend enormous amounts of time trying different regimes to get basic care done, even giving her beer-it was a fancy micro brew and she didn't like it, Marcella drank it for her. After about a year, she even quit sleeping with Stevie, she really preferred her own suite, and showed me that in no uncertain terms-I think too she felt safer and was afraid of getting knocked around and was most likely already losing her site. When we came to Maine, Rosie was already getting old, and I wondered if I was doing her a disservice by bringing her to a cold climate. But I did, and she seemed to thrive here that first spring and summer, even venturing out to flirt with Earnest in the sunshine through the fence.

But by the next year, we noticed she really was pretty blind, and she couldn't go out and wander near the barn even, because she often tripped and fell. She mainly...sleeps.

So I told people that I was going to make a burial blanket for her. I didn't want to think of her in the earth all cold, even though she will be dead and at peace, I won't be, and I thought making a burial item, a ritual for those of us left behind, would help me begin to let go. I told people they too could sew small items and I could attach them to the burial shroud, or include them. One friend is making a knit cover to place over her eyes, before we place earth on her-I had told her that was my ritual, and she is making it out of Assumpta's wool. I received two quilted stitched pieces from followers, shown here, that just got me! And another came today that is lovely.

Rosie is going to be okay. I know she will. I think the reason I'm having a bit of trouble with letting go is...she still is sort of symbolic of my relationship with my father, and she was my first pig. So many 'firsts' happened out West at the first Apifera. My dad was in hospice when I brought Rosie to the farm, and I would lather her up in sunscreen and oil [she has a skin issue and always has] and it reminded me of my father's dry skin who often was in pain in the last months due to it, but the nurses would put soothing lotions on him. So as I cared for my grumpy pig, my father lay in hospice and I could not travel to him, but I thought of him through Rosie. Her personality is also like my father-a heart of gold covered in layers of grumpy thoughts. But I loved him, and I love her, even though she refuses belly rubs, and just wants to be alone.

So, we have talked about 'when' and 'where' and I won't announce that until the deed is over and she is on her way to a heaven where maybe everyone will be grumpy and she will feel very happy-grumpy. It is complicated too that she is a muse and always has been. But muses must rest. And it would be wrong of me to keep her alive for my own selfish reasons...and I also know that if she began to suffer in the winter I would be upset with myself, and she probably will.

She is a very unusual animal. I saw a photo of her that was taken in her prime, her hair was thick and she was out and about in the sun. Her hair today is very thin, her rear end is weak and she can hardly walk with out stopping or tripping. I know the vet agrees.

The items people are sending are helping me, and honoring her. It will be hard that day, but, a relief for her, and me when she is free of her old body. You can still send things-even little trinkets, buttons, toys-things that will give her help on her next journey. But don't wait too long. Winter is coming.

Rosie the pig
c/o Apifera Farm
315 Waldoboro RD, Bremen ME 04551

A letter that made me cry came with a little quilted piece

"Rosie! Rosie, where are you?!"

I had one of those heart stopping animal moments last night in the outer barn. I had done my nighttime feedings and chores with the sheep and equines and made my way over to Rosie's private suite. I always check on her even though she doesn't get any feed at night.

But there was no Rosie.

No problem, I ventured out to the new barn addition, which Rosie often meanders to for sun naps.

But still, I did not see Rosie.

This pig can not just vanish. While my other pigs could easily break out of this barn, Rosie is a delicate wildflower incapable of such normal pig behavior.

I looked under hay that had been left on the floor. No Rosie.

I turned, and there she was, a Sleeping Beauty like no other. She had ventured to another part of the barn, an area that had recently been filled with hay, but last weekend we created a semi loft to get more hay off the pallets, and better moving room for woman and animal.

It was the sweetest image-I took these photos. She did not even wake up, she slept through my three minutes of bewilderment. I sat with her for a spell, she hardly let out a grumpf.

Oh! Rosie!

The blessing of daily faces

It's a blessing to live amongst such a diversity of souls with faces that express their own peace each day, because they just get to be.

Misfit faces...for you

We are $1138 away from making up for the cost of the hay we brought in that will get us through next spring. Hay is probably our most important thing, besides love...and water...and care...and loyalty....and time....and pasture maintenance....and fence maintenance...and hoof and feet trims....vacinations....did I mention time?

But it is time well spent.

This morning I sat in the barn, a light misty rain falling, sitting with Old Sophie, and the pig nearby covered in hay and snoring. It was so peaceful. I have found I am really settling in with the barns and land here, and I am taking more ten minute moments like this. I am scheduling myself so that, well, I don't have to rush, or rarely have to rush. I've done my rushing and am still capable of it if I have to be, but when you are rushed with animals, it always leads to chaos-because, well, they are not rushed.

I hope these images might bring you a momentary smile, and sense of peace, to help you along in your day.

I'll be giving away another print in the coming week-so anyone donating at least $20 will have their name put in a hat.