|Bless your heart, you good, good|
On Sunday, Apria cushed (llama speak for settled in a bundle on the ground), gazing into the distance. By Monday she had passed away, before I could get a vet to the farm. She was in her early 20s and I had hoped for another five or so years with her. It was not to be. I think that her blindness, oncoming deafness and challenged dentifrice just wore her out.
As if that wasn't bad enough, the process of removing her and giving her a decent burial has been somewhere between planning military maneuvers and juggling with swords. It is a nightmare which, I hope, is over today. I'm not holding my breath. So far, I've had to cut trees down, remove a section of fence and I'm on the phone with farmers, excavators and loggers - leaving messages and waiting (and waiting) for return calls. My neighbor and I managed to get four of the five trees that needed to be removed (all are pines and all are dying) cut down but the fifth needed a professional. Enter Dreamboat Arborist, Llew. He cut the tree down last evening as the sun was setting, climbing up the tree in near-darkness. I have yet to see the excavator, but I hope he'll be here today to see what equipment will be needed. A farmer friend has offered a spot behind his barn for her final resting place. Now, if all the many pieces of this gawd-awful puzzle would just fall into place, Linden and I can get some peace of mind.
Then, there is Linden. I need to find him a home where he can live out the rest of his retirement years. My only other option is to add a companion animal to the farm, but, frankly, my heart just isn't in it. Neither is my pocketbook. Fingers crossed that this lovely girl can finally be released to her next adventure, or go to the place where llamas gather. Linden and I could use some rest, too.