In Memoriam - Paloma

On the 7th July 2004 and at the tender age of two years, Paloma, a pretty Nubian goat, came to live at BrightHaven. Paloma had spent the early part of her life as a dairy goat, until an attack of mastitis ended her career and almost her life! Of no further use to the dairy, Paloma was to be euthanized until BrightHaven good friend Christy heard of her plight and intervened. BrightHaven gladly paid the $100.00 fee and Paloma came to join our very own Dorothy—a Toggenburg lady goat.

Dot, being somewhat of a spoiled only child in those days, was not at all sure she wanted a friend in goat guise, but gradually warmed up to the idea of close company around the clock and the two became firm friends. After all, there were lots of important goat issues that Dot was proud to share with her new young sister! Paloma had to learn which volunteers gave the best treats and how to coerce more, plus which tree gave the best tasting leaves, but most of all Paloma needed to learn which plants were the tastiest to run for when a silly human left their gate open inadvertently—as was the case on occasion!!

With Fray in charge of the daily routine and feeding, life settled into a well organized pattern, with highlights of the chance of stealing a little of Harley's food sometimes, along with numerous volunteer visits and walks around the property on leash. Paloma happily had no more episodes of mastitis and remained healthy and fun loving.

Life in the goat and pig pasture has remained in great balance for years and years, with lots of playing and frolicking and with only the worry of dear Harley's gradual weakening of his back end and final collapse of his back legs into paraplegia. After great concern, everyone realized that life would go on as usual for big "H" and so Paloma and Dot were able to resume normal behavior and not feel guilty about the occasional acquisition of some of his food.

November last year brought the arrival of new boy "Mr. Murphy" to join the gals and for a time the ladies were very dominant with this poor old arthritic chap who seemed scared to death of us all. In time things changed of course and then he, Paloma and Dot would spend happy hours together as a team, grazing peacefully or soaking up the sunshine in the pasture together. The days were long and sunny and life was good with a capital "G"!

All good things must end we are told and, earlier this year we noticed a lump appear on the right side of Paloma's jaw. Dear friend and veterinarian Tere Crocker came to investigate and, under anesthesia, discovered Paloma's pretty bad teeth along with a growing mass. Happily, a biopsy returned a negative report for malignancy and we believed her condition to be that of "lumpy jaw".

Tere began treatment with an intravenous antibiotic injection once weekly and for a while we remained very optimistic—but then, we noticed sweet P's face growing larger and larger...and her spirits declining. Paloma's homeopath Laurie Lofton began prescribing and Paloma returned to become her old happy self, gaily accepting Dr. Laurie's prescriptions and also greatly enjoying laser therapy by our very own Dr. Laura Adams. Laurie and Laura successfully kept Paloma in great spirits and eating merrily for some time, although we tried hard not to fear what the future might bring.

As is often the way, approximately two weeks ago Paloma began to improve drastically—her energy really bounced back and her appetite increased dramatically...our spirits rose too as we prayed for this to be the miracle she needed...but sadly it was simply the sign that time was running out. Our dear, sweet, silly goat became weaker in those last few days—although we continued to pray as she ate so well....but no, it was not to be, and this morning our beautiful girl simply lay on her side and left this world with such grace and ease that we were left in reverent awe to ponder the great mystery that is death.

Do not stand at my grave and weep. I am not there,
I did not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on the ripened grain.
I am the gentle Autumn’s rain.

When you awaken in the morning hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry:
I am not there, I did not die.

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