Health & Fitness
Happy Birthday, Nancy!
Not many people understand that raising livestock places restrictions on a breeder, but my friend, Nancy, appreciates the fact that the animals' care is more important than our social plans.
Livestock farming—even on a small scale—can be an all consuming occupation. People who live in suburban or city homes don't always understand the restrictions that raising livestock places on a farmer's life. It is hard to make friends or mantain friendships outside the circle of those who share a breeder's interests and passions.
Most of my friends are fellow alpaca breeders. Topics of discussion may be a new cria, fiber sales, and the best mill to turn our fiber into yarn. We talk about the shape of a placenta and the head shape of a recently purchased herdsire; the shape of a pocketbook is of no interest to anyone. We cancel visits to one another's farms because the last spring baby is way overdue, and we dare not leave the farm for an extended period of time. "Normal" people don't understand and certainly don't appreciate our priorities.
Except my friend, Nancy, does! Nancy lives in the suburbs. We have been friends for many years and retired together from our teaching careers when No Child Left Behind became No Teacher Without an Ulcer. Each morning, after my routine and most pressing chores are done, I take a break in my barn "office" and call Nancy. We chat about our lives, politics, and whatever other subject interests us at that moment.
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Nancy asks questions about the alpacas. She rejoices with me when a healthy cria is born and mourned with me when our old gelding had to be euthanized. My friend understands when I have to cancel a planned dinner or a trip to her favorite place, Lancaster County.
"Maribel started humming this morning and has been visiting the dung pile a dozen times in the last hour. I think I better stay home today in case she's in early labor."
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"Of course," Nancy says, and I know there is no hidden resentment over our changed plans. The animals' care must come first.
I tease Nancy about her suburban "ranch," where—despite my vocal protests—she feeds the wildlife. We share a love for hard, physical work, but Nancy's small backyard does not provide enough of an outlet for her desire to be active. "You should have been a farmer," I tell her, the ultimate compliment as far as I am concerned.
Happy Birthday, Nancy!
