He never knew a single day's exploitation in his life because he was with us from the day he was born. He had as clean and comfortable a shelter as we could possibly provide, prompt veterinary treatment any time he was ill, and the company of his sheep and goat friends at Eden.... I have always said that amidst the many challenges of running a sanctuary, the gruelling physical labour, the worry about resources, the effort to recruit good carers, the most challenging for all of us is the courage it takes to leave our hearts open to love and lose them.

Pip (2009 - 7th December 2020)
We lost one of our greatest friend's at Eden last week. Pip was a gentle,
affectionate sheep and it was a pleasure to go out to the sanctuary every
day and be greeted by him. He loved nothing more than a treat and a back
scratch. He never knew a single day's exploitation in his life because he
was with us from the day he was born. He had as clean and comfortable a
shelter as we could possibly provide, prompt veterinary treatment any time
he was ill, and the company of his sheep and goat friends at Eden. He was
particularly accommodating of Brownie, a goat who spent months recovering
from paralysis last year, and to Holly, our blind sheep.
You can see how gentle he was in the photos below. Most sheep would have
eaten the food out of my hands, but Pip was so mannerly and gentle that he
always waited until we gave it to him. Of course, he was confident that we
would always have something nice for him.
Pip lived to 11 years of age. If he had lived on an Irish farm, he would
have been slaughtered when he was a few months old.
At the end of Pip's life he was loved and nursed, and we had the courage to
let him go before he suffered. Now we are going through the process of
grieving for him. We will never forget him. This is the essence of a vegan
sanctuary.
As we neared the end of his days, we wrote about the experience of
anticipatory grief for those we love and lose.


Anticipatory Grief
When we are preparing for the death of one of our sanctuary friends, we go
through a period of anticipatory grief. However, painful this is to us, as
their carers, it allows us to spend extra time with them, making them as
comfortable as possible, giving them unlimited treats if they are able for
them, preparing the most comfortable beds, and making sure their food and
water are accessible. We spend time consulting with their veterinary carers,
adjusting doses of medicines to alleviate discomfort, enhance mobility and
buy time. It gives us the opportunity to plan the end of their life so that
it is as timely and peaceful for them as possible, notwithstanding the fact
that almost all their deaths are premature and caused by the effects of
selective breeding.
We wish with all our hearts that their lives did not have to end. Every time
they leave their house, as Pip did yesterday, to walk across the field and
lie under a favourite tree to savour this frosty, sunny, wintry weather,
spending a little while grazing on the paddock he calls home, we celebrate
knowing that it might be the last time they are able to do this.
I have always said that amidst the many challenges of running a sanctuary,
the gruelling physical labour, the worry about resources, the effort to
recruit good carers, the most challenging for all of us is the courage it
takes to leave our hearts open to love and lose them.
Our human emotions and our social relations with them are crucial to how we
care for them. Wouldn’t you prefer to be cared for by a friend or family
member who knew your unique individuality, preferences, and vulnerabilities,
than by someone who, however proficient their care, doesn’t really know you
or feel anything for you? Our human emotions are far from indulgent or
irrelevant. We believe that they are crucial. Without these emotions there
would be no friendship, no sense of kin, no love for those under our care at
Eden. Without these emotions there would be no reciprocal relationship and
no great empathy. It is the depth of our feeling for them that allows us to
live in their shoes when they are ill, debilitated and old. It enables us to
judge the best flooring and bedding for someone who is old and frail. It
enables us to read their body language and know when they want to rest, when
they would like assistance to move, when they would like a drink, and if it
is time to lift the ‘treat’ restrictions and give them what they want to
eat. It enables us to judge if they need to be alone, or if they would
prefer to end their lives as normally as possible in the company of their
friends.
It enables us to plan the end of their life because even though we feel sick
at the thought of losing them, our bodies reverberating with the familiar
symptoms of anticipatory grief that are so like fear, we want to time their
end so that they do not live for one single day in which the pain of living
outweighs their quality of life.
For us at Eden, these are not pleasant times, but they are privileged times.
We will do our best to make sure his final days are as filled with gentle
care and fierce love as his first days when we carried his new born lamb’s
body in our arms almost twelve years ago.
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