Dear Curiosity Journal,

Here come the tears. Franny has been lethargic for the last two days and yesterday she didn’t get up for grain. She wasn’t running a temperature, was only eating a little, and I hadn’t seen her drink any water. I gave her some vitamin B and called the vet. After a series of questions, he said he couldn’t give me any solid advice without seeing her, but it sounded like a goat getting ready to check out and I should try to get her to eat and otherwise do my best to make her comfortable. I carried her to the fresh grass, but she wouldn’t eat and cried miserably when I picked her up. I brought her back to the barn where they all sleep together and laid her in the hay. She was whimpering. I sat with her for a long time and cried, petting her head, and making peace with the fact that this would likely be the end. I woke up early this morning to check on her and when I walked around the corner, I knew she was gone by the shape and stillness of her body. I knelt in the hay with my hand on her chest, reeling with questions, veiled in sadness, but comforted that she was no longer suffering. I ran to Rufus and he held me, soothing me with all the words of a farmer who has weathered livestock losses since childhood, yet acknowledging that the feeling of responsibility, guilt, wondering, and loss never fully go away when you care. Rest in peace Franny. You were a sweet and spirited three-legged goat who brought a lot of people joy.