|The field..a place of a dozen care plans|
This morning I took all four dogs into the field to "potter" whilst I filled water butts and fed the pigs.The weather has closed in somewhat, and as the cold wind whipped against the little "Ukrainian Village" of animal houses with some violence , I paused for a moment watching some of the moulting hens braving the elements as they do every day of the year.
.....and......I was suddenly overtaken with an overwhelming sense of responsibility for them all...
It was a strange feeling.
Beatrice, the hen still recovering from a stroke in her own pen, Phyllis the bullied bantam, now splendid in her new white plumage ,Boris, now blind in one eye, searching around for grain with a little difficulty and Mabel nervously watching the needy runner ducks, splashing hysterically in the pond....what would happen to them all if I was incapacitated in some way?
Who would ensure that the score of individualised care plans were carried out properly?
Who would care?
I suspect , all I am feeling is a part of that slightly fearful anxiety parents have to experience when they look at their children albeit in a much diluted form.....that strange and powerful sense of responsibility for another life.....(or in my case, 80 little lives, who all look to me to be fed , watered, housed and protected)
I am not complaining, I never would, but sometimes........when you look at a gander with a sore foot and a moulting hen in need of a tonic, you realise that there are always 80 pairs of eyes watching you, and 80 little "people" just waiting for you to sort things out for them....