Gosh, farm life can be hard.  I don't mean working hard, blisters on the hands and dog tired at the end of the day.  That stuff is hard, but sorta satisfying in a way that just makes the hard enjoyable.  It's another kind of hard that I am talking about.  Hard to not get too attached to an animal you have, and then have it's body give out long before yours ever does.  Or have it murdered by the local wildlife who thinks your farm is the next best thing to King's Table.  It's hard not to fall in love with the sweetest kit in the litter, raise it up, and have it grow old.  It's hard to say good bye to a critter who has shared years with you, and was as fond of you as you were of it.  And even worse, it is hard having to help your children understand why these friends have to go before they are ready for them to.  Who ever wants a friend to go?? 

Day before yesterday was yet another of those days.  This year we have lost a lot of friends, of feather and fur.  But, this time, it was one extra close to my little boy's heart.  We all loved her, but Fru was my son's first real pet.  The one he was responsible for, and the one he could relate to and talk to when we wanted a friend to talk to.  And she'd talk back to him.  She loved everyone, but she was super patient, and extra careful with my son.  It was like she knew that her reaction to him was very important to his self confidence.  She was a wise little lady.

My son's fondest memories of her is taking her out on sunny days for long walks in the yard.  Well, she'd walk him, lol.  He'd have me don her pretty purple harness, and spend hours just hanging out with her in the grass, or following her as she ran from one plant to the next.  Sometimes it seemed like she'd play tag with  him, which was and unbelievable riot.  When they both needed a break from all the exploring, she'd hop up onto his lap as he sat in the sun, and just lay there like a lap cat. 

Fru was an amazing mom, and fostered so many little kits to first time mom's that just couldn't figure it out.  She even raised a few angoras for me.  And towards the end of her breeding career, she showed me she carried my favorite color!  Chocolate!  OH Yummy!  I am so glad I kept a beautiful chocolate otter buck from her last litter.  Not just because of her value in my barn, but my son has something of his dear friend left in this little buck.  He is just as sweet, though still new to the idea of being such great pals as his mom was with a little boy. 

Fru came to live with us as a wee kit, weaned way too early from her mom.  My first Rex, I was totally smitten with her.  My son was just an infant at the time, but my daughter packed her around like a doll, and she quickly became totally expecting of being held every day.  She later developed a 'lanquage' of grunts and squeeks that were so endearing.  I could plop her over my shoulder like a big cat, and she'd squeek and grunt at me while I carried her around.  I never really heard them, I am deaf.  But, I could feel them, and their different tones.  I was totally facinated with it, and learned to 'talk' back to her. 

As my kids got older, my daughter realized that Fru seemed to have a special thing for my son, and she passed the responsiblity of her over to him.  He was in heaven.  She was his special friend right from the start.  Not a day went by without him asking to take her out and give her her exercise.  Now I wish that I had said yes way more often than I did. 

In loosing as many friends as we had this year, it never fails to run through my head and heart, how I wish that I had done so many things different with each of them, all for their sakes.  I wish I had taken the time to know them even more, to understand them, and try to do better by them. 

Sometimes it feels like G~D tells me, life is short, you need to live each day deliberately, purposefully, and really be aware of each moment you get with your friends and love ones.  Don't just brush it off, or rush through it.   Don't get impatient, loose  your cool when you can't get them to understand, or they don't understand you.  You never know when it will be the last moment you get with them.  And once they are gone, you always wish you had had more time with them, done things with them more often, or said how much you loved them more frequently. 

I have often asked Him why my children, and even I,  have to endure so much pain in loosing so many friends this past year.  Especially my children.  It seems so unfair that they have to go through this, and this year has been considerably worst than others.  But, I know that He is trying to show them something that they need to carry with them through their lives.  They need to understand the sheer importance of their family and friends in a time where these are often left on the by way as people pursue careers, money and the ulimate lifestlye.  Real relationships are a thing left to chance, and aren't focused on or nutured like they should be.  Pain can bring clarity and focus to our busy lives.  Makes us stop and realize what we have been doing, and how badly we need to change things.  It is up to us what we do with that realization. 

The easiest way to deal with it is just forget what brought the pain about.  But,  how on earth does one ever forget a true friend?  I still have vivid memories of my horse, El Faraj, who carried me to more wins in the show ring on a National Circuit than I ever dreamed I could have had.  It wasn't me, it was all him.  He just was doing his job.  But at home, we had a thing I know neither of us had with any one else.  We had this ultimate trust, friendship, and we were there for each other.  I love my folks, but he was my family.  My folks did more for me than a lot of kids could say, they took care of me, probably even spoiled me a bit, but, emotionally, that horse did more for me than anyone alive at the time.  He kept me out of trouble. 

I still cry over this boy, and he passed away with a stranger, to me, before I had my first child, more than 14 years ago.  I still miss him.  He kept me out of trouble then, and the memory of him helps me remember how important it is to foster my relationships, to take care of my family.  I didn't get nearly enough time with him, he was taken from me long before I ever wanted to let him go.  But, in having to, I learned a lot, and am still learning with each friend I loose now.  Watching my children go through the same pain, it is hard.  But, I know that they are learning valuable lessons that I pray will stick with them for their life. 

In short, thank you Fru, for being our friend, and spending your time with us.  Thank you for helping my little boy, and teaching him something I never could without your help.  You'll always be treasured, remembered and missed.  The barn seems strange without you begging for your food and attention each day, the yard empty with you crashing through my flowers with your little boy  in tow.  But, the lessons we have learned from you will be with us forever.

See you someday again, friend,

K