I had posted about our goat, Charlie, having kidney stones. He had had them before, and that was about a year ago. He got them again, and was not doing good at all. For two days, he stayed at the vet. For several days, he was here at the house up in the barn, in Red's empty stall. We kept him locked up and would give him this liquid mineral through a syringe that would hopefully dissolve some of the stones. Saturday, he seemed to be doing much better. He got up and was walking around, and just seemed like he was doing good. Yesterday morning before breakfast, dad and
I went up to the barn to feed the horses and give Charlie the minerals before we left for church. When we got up there, he was laying down and seemed to be doing worse. When I opened his mouth to give him the stuff, I noticed that he was slobbering very badly. We didn't know what this could mean. When we got 
to church, we talked to a man there who has a bunch of goats. He said when a goat starts to slobber, it either means he's going to get better very soon or die very soon. We figured it was the "die" part of it. We got back and dad and I once again went up to the barn. It was getting dark, and we turned on a light that we have hanging on a nail. Charlie seemed to be in the place we left him. We gave him the medicine, and he
would hardly swallow it. He was slobbering even worse...something told me he would be dead in the morning. We fed the horses and said goodbye to Charlie. I gave him a kiss in between his horns and hoped he'd be better.This morning, dad and Nathan went to feed. They took a full syringe. Strange enough, while mom was in the kitchen cooking breakfast and I was in the den folding towels,
thinking to myself, I had this feeling that they would come back with a full syringe, just as when they had left. I just had this feeling that Charlie would be dead. Moments later, from down in the garage, I heard the door close, signaling their return. Half of me wanted to know...the other half didn't. I had gone to my room at this point, and when I heard the door in our house that leads to the basement open, I walked into the hall and saw dad come in, eyes downcast and...syringe full. He squirted the content into the sink and said the three words that I half expected to hear:"Charlie is dead."
It wasn't a huge shock, but it was still very sad. Yes, I cried...but it's part of farm-life. I already miss the annoying, gluttonous goat that used to bleat so loud at feeding time. I'm sure Che
ster (his brother) will probably miss him, too...even if Charlie used to butt him and bully him around. He will always be remembered. There's a shelf in my room where I have pictures of Red and a Briar horse that look like him set up, with a lock of his hair over the model's back; I'm also going to put a couple of pictures of Charlie, and the syringe we used is already on the shelf.Goodbye Charlie. I love you.
In Christ,
~Hannah
