It was a true tragedy….
Homie and I mourned the loss…
It was our dream life, me and Homie. We wanted our own farm. Both of us had grown up in farming communities, not just our farming families. When my daddy died, he left me some acres. So, we took the kids and moved back to my home farm. We had jobs, so we had no desire to farm, per se. What we did want to do was garden. So, it started out as sweet fun: chickens, 4 Chihuahuas, and the 4-Square Farm! (At this point, three of my sisters jointly owned the farm with me.) After my mom died, we divided it up and I named my share, The Jake & Jewel Homestead, after my hardworking parents who took a piece of land with nothing on it and built it into a sustainable farm where they raised seven children. Since then, I’ve shared, off and on, pics of the Chihuahuas, chickens, the homestead, flowers, plants, and of course HadPoo, our granddaughter after she came into the picture.
However, sadly, last year, heartbreak happened on the homestead.
For you to understand, I have to introduce our four furry friends. Opie, our blond, male Chihuahua we rescued from a lady who was sick with brain cancer and wanted a good home for him, a new puppy she had received from well meaning family. Then Shea, our tawny and black gal, whom we also rescued from a friend whose children could not take care of her due to their sad circumstances.
Opie and Shea had their first litter of four. We fell in love. Homie and I kept two, Diamond Pistol Pete, a black and white firecracker, and Pretty Girl Pearl, a long haired gray, black, and white beauty. Our daughter took one, Topaz Bella, a beautiful copper colored little girl. And our son and his wife took the smut black and brown boy, Onyx, shortened to Onnie, the sweet one.
We had no had no want for more puppies, but life happens. Mysteriously–tongue in cheek here–at this time, both Pearl and Shea came up pregnant at the same time. And both fled the safety of our home and had their babies under one storage building. We waited for the babies to get big enough to come out, because, you see, the building was too low for any human to crawl beneath.
So we waited, never having seen even one puppy, only heard them mewing.
That day, the day of heartbreak, we didn’t know what was happening. About midday Shea began to bring puppies through the doggy door of our back door. One at the time, she frantically rolled them out from beneath the shed and lugged the fat babies in. We placed a sheet down for her. It took her a few hours as we watched her, even helping a few times. Soon we realized she was not only bringing her pups, which were a week younger than Pearl’s, but she was also bringing in Pearl’s pups as well. When she had brought all six pups in, she nestled in with them.
We went looking for Pearl, couldn’t find her. Later, she came up, and then fell over, wounded. Our Pearl Girl was attacked by something—what we’re not sure—but thought, at the time, it was someone in the neighborhood’s bigger dog who came into our yard. (We have seen them on the loose.) Pearl, the good, protective mommy that she was, probably rushed out barking, in her high-pitched bark—one that could almost break glass—to defend her pups, as she was ever the first responder/guard dog for the place. Sadly, she passed over the great divide and into that green meadow under the watchful eye of the Lord.
Now this precious little face, with those bright eyes and smile, will no longer romp around the homestead. She will no longer want to be the first to get a snack, jump into our laps, and keep scooting her head up to be able to give us a wet doggy kisses.
We all miss her so much, our little Squirrel-ly Pearly…
We were all heartbroken…
But that’s not the end of the story!! Continue reading “Heartbreak on the Homestead”
Author Della M Strickland 