As I was cleaning the Little Barn’s play area the other day, I happened to look out at Mary, Cricket, Bella, and Duchess in the pasture. They were playing tag.  One would nose another in the neck or side, then they’d all turn to lope in the opposite direction from which they’d just come.  As they loped, they’d jump a bit, rear legs kicking back into the air, or buck a bit, their spine arched and their heads down. This was a game Mary, Cricket and Bella had played a lot before Duchess arrived, but I had never seen the four of them play it. The amazing thing was that Duchess was playing, despite the rupture in her abdomen, which had grown larger since her arrival. 

As I watched, she stumbled, slowing down quickly. The other three slowed down alongside her, and Cricket moved to her head, touching her nose, gently, with his. All four then put their heads down and began grazing. I called to Duchess, and her head came up immediately, ears perked and eyes bright. She trotted to the gate as soon as she saw that I was moving toward it, too.  I just had to check. When we met, she nuzzled my hand, stood still a minute for cuddles, then trotted back to her place in the pasture. She was fine ~ happy, in fact, and healthy despite her organ-filled pouch swinging pendulously with every step and hanging only inches from the ground.  

Before I met Duchess, I had never heard of a pubic tendon rupture. To be honest, I had very little understanding of what a human hernia was, aside from the knowledge that I never wanted one. (By the way, a sheep can get a hernia, too, which is a tear in the abdomen wall and is different from a tear in a tendon. I didn’t know that, either.) After Duchess’s original owner first called and explained the injury, I did some searching. One of the most common pieces of information I found was that sheep with this injury are usually euthanized because there’s no known way to permanently repair the tendon. I also learned all the painful ways that sheep with the injury can die. 

In speaking with Duchess’s original vet and our vet, I learned that Duchess had a lot going for her. Her rupture occurred during the third trimester of her most recent pregnancy, but she was able to give birth normally and without trauma. She was nursing her babies normally, and all signs indicated that she wasn’t in pain. She just couldn’t get pregnant again, and her owner couldn’t guarantee that given the infrastructure at their farm. Sounded good to me, so as soon as possible, Duchess came to Sundance with my constant prayer that she could enjoy as much time as possible with other sheep, lots of green grass, and tons of love. 

That was the first part of April.  Three months later, in July, our vet came to check on her. As Dona watched Duchess move around the play area, her smile grew. “She looks wonderful!” And she does. She’s been shorn, so her fleece is growing in again. She walks with her head up and her ears perked. Her eyes are clear ~ the center a beautiful green, fading to ivory at the edges.   Her gait is only slightly off because of her abdomen, but nothing hinders her from moving in for hugs or moving away to graze. She follows me like a puppy and eats grain like she’s starving. 

What we don’t know and can’t tell is what’s going on inside of her. Which organs, exactly, are hanging through the rupture? I know that she’s not gaining weight ~ despite the amount of grass, hay and grain she eats; but so far, she’s not losing weight, either. I don’t know where her kidneys are or how they’re doing, but I know she’s still urinating. I know that she doesn’t have diarrhea, but I don’t know that everything’s normal. I walk the pastures looking for anything that might poke through the thin skin covering the organs hanging down, and I’m hypervigilant watching her play.    

And yet, on this mid-summer day,  Duchess is alive and living her best life as a sheep ~ grazing green grass, spending time with friends, trusting us enough to come for hugs. 

As Dona and I talked after she had examined Duchess, she said something I’ll never forget: what we’ve shown with Duchess is that euthanasia does not always have to be the default for sheep with a pubic tendon rupture. Small Sanctuaries like Sundance can be a viable option for them for as long as their bodies are able to function and stay pain-free. 

No one of any species knows how long a life will last.  Duchess’s injury might cut her life shorter than it would have otherwise been, but I do know this: when we say goodbye to Duchess, it will be because her body says it’s time, not because a person defaults to her death.