24 February

Liam’s Last Day. It’s Time To Let Go Before He Suffers

by Jon Katz

Maria and I agreed that we would hope that Liam could die a natural death, but yesterday and today, we saw that he is failing rapidly, has ceased eating, is bewildered, and is always alone in the Pole Barn. He will no longer take hay or even his beloved handful of grain.

I usually shoot the sheep who need help dying, but I don’t have the heart to shoot Liam, our nine-year-old wether and sweet and peaceful friend. Liam was a rock, a solid place. He guided and calmed the flock.

A good friend has agreed to kill Liam and take him away. He is very experienced, and I trust him to do it quickly and mercifully. Vets can euthanize sheep, but two IVs from strangers frighten them.

I believe this is the most merciful way for Liam to go, in his Pole Barn with his flock and us around him. I’m good with it, so is Maria.

Maria and I both came to the same decision this morning. In situations like this, we must agree that each of us has veto power. But there was no argument or disagreement. We’ve seen this before.

We can’t bury Liam in the pasture; the ground is frozen. From the beginning, we said we would not let him suffer, and we both feel that he is suffering now. On top of everything, it’s bitter cold; his resistance is weaker than ever. In a sense, he is no longer here but disconnected from life.

It’s time.

 

The only trouble Liam (Suzie’s son) ever gave us was his decision to challenge Red, our skilled herding dog. They worked it out, and Liam succumbed. He had none of the grumpy moods that often affect wethers and rams. He was an icon to us; he led the flock gracefully and calmly.

Maria and I sat with Liam this afternoon; he is hardly moving now and won’t eat anything. We don’t want him to starve himself to death.

 

Godspeed, old pal; you were a gentleman throughout and an enduring symbol of life on the farm. The farm is a great teacher of life and death. Liam was born here; I remember Simon stomped after he was born and broke a rib. Prey animals are often nervous; I saw Liam rattled, not even when Red got tired of being butted by him and bit him on the nose.

That was the last trouble Liam was ever in.

21 Comments

  1. Farewell to Liam, a gentle wise soul.
    An act of Mercy, so as he does not suffer, love in action.
    Sending you both comforting energy

  2. What a kind, difficult decision! It’s the last gift we can give our beloved animals, a merciful death when they are suffering.

  3. My condolences for your loss of Liam, Jon and Maria. You knew this was coming….just not quite *how* it would unfold. We never know, do we? I lift my glass to Liam tonight, and to you and Maria for letting the journey unfold as it must. May he rest in peace now
    Susan M

  4. This decision sounds balanced and peaceful, based on long experience with animals and putting their needs first. You and Maria have a decision tree system that sounds wonderful, where everyone (especially Liam) is considered carefully and with compassion. He won’t be left all alone getting weaker and afraid and cold, and you two kept him company with his favorite foods and extra attention and a lot of respect. This was an uplifting and comforting little story.

  5. Thinking of you both and lots of prayers. I know just how you are feeling just 8 weeks after having my beloved rescue collie-shepherd cross put to sleep, here at home, by her favourite vet, at the age of almost 14.
    One year since I lost my husband.
    I love sheep and Liam looks so sweet. They say time heals grief and it has, for me, in the past. I look forward to a repeat of that process for us all.

  6. So sorry for your loss of a good friend. I had to put down a favorite chicken this week myself; she has started to suffer. It is hard, but my firmly held belief that death is a natural part of life helps me accept the cycle. Peace.

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