Three green went down in early February. In farmer speak, “went down” means that the
animal lay down and wouldn’t get up as opposed to “put down” which means that
the farmer killed a sick animal because there was no hope of recovery. We
should have turned Three green into sausage last fall, but somehow, we didn’t
get around to it. By February she was very thin and walked as if every step
hurt. She was obviously pregnant and she could deliver any day. Together, Dave
and I stood her up every time we went out to the barn and turned her to the
other side when we allowed her to lie back down. We laid hay directly in front
of her, and held a water bucket while she drank. We gave her calcium to combat
hypocalcemia, one of the most common pregnancy problems and then gavaged her,
giving her calories and water through a tube to her stomach to combat pregnancy
toxemia.
The days dragged by. She didn’t get better. Eventually even
when we stood her up, she couldn’t hold herself upright. Finally, we gave her
the drug that would induce labor and delivery within 36 to 48 hours. I wasn’t
at all sure that we could keep her alive that long.
The morning of February 15 when we went out to the barn, Three
green was licking a white lamb. Somehow she had delivered, and managed to turn
around so that she could reach her lamb with her tongue. She only seemed to
have milk in half her udder, the nipple that was exposed when she lay in her
most comfortable position, so we only stood her up a few times a day and we didn’t
force her to turn over. I was sure that this meant that she would become weaker
and weaker, no longer strong enough to stand on her own, making “putting her
down” inevitable.
The lamb nursed
enthusiastically. Three green mothered her well, licking and encouraging with
soft rumbles and baaas. We continued to
feed mother and baby, forcing Three green to her feet several times a day. Then
one morning when we opened the big barn door, Three green struggled to her feet.
Her baby immediately got into position and nursed well on both nipples. Then
Three green settled herself very carefully back down, nudging her lamb out of
the way.
This week, we moved Three green and her lamb into the group
pen. She walked the twenty steps to get there with her lamb bouncing around
her. Now when feed her, she walks slowly (and painfully) to the feeder. She
stand for her lamb to nurse. She walks to get water. Through her own strong
mothering instincts, and the persistence of her lamb and her shepherds, Three
green has survived to birth and raise a lamb. With patience and persistence, a
hopeless situation can improve.
Since the election I’ve felt hopeless, as if there was nothing
that I as an individual could do to stop the flood of hate and un-American
behavior, nothing that I could do to help our neighbors. No one answered my
letters to political leaders, their phones are
always busy. I sign petitions on line and hope that they actually are seen by
the people who are supposed to lead the country.
About a month ago, I realized that other people are standing
up to help. I received an email from a composer who would like to work with a
group of young women refugees and immigrants and young women whose families
have lived in the US for generations. Together she hopes that they can explore
dreams – the American Dream, their dreams for the future, their actual dreams.
Two weeks ago, a sculptor contacted me, looking for a Somali
weaver who would be interested in working with him on a commission to create a
piece of sculpture for a city park.
Last week, a woman from my community asked what she could do
to help the new immigrants in town. We put together a planning meeting and
decided to run a focus group including local leaders of the different ethnic
groups in town as well as leaders from the medical community, the schools, the
business community, the city government, and the turkey plant, the biggest
employer in town. Our goal was to learn what problems the new immigrants were
facing right now and how that was affecting the rest of the community, but also
what the feelings of the non-immigrant population were and how that was
affecting the rest of the community.
A young man from the Historical Society is presenting a talk
on the effects of WWI in Otter Tail County between the immigrants and the
locals at that time.
I received emails from three of the legislators I had written to.
Yesterday, I noticed that the lighted sign outside our local
Cenex gas station was flashing a message that read “Peace begins with a smile.”
Perhaps I have been too impatient. Three green is recovering in
spite of my foreboding. People who are kind, who care for their
neighbors as for themselves, who don’t define stranger as enemy are beginning
to stand up for their beliefs, to find ways to help. With patience and
persistence, a hopeless situation can improve.