Saying goodbye to my friends.

I had four beautiful goats.

I say ‘had’ because as of today, I now only care for one beautiful goat.

His name is Cheech.

I rescued Cheech and his friends from certain slaughter as he and his friends were all male.

Male in the meat industry equates to a death sentence. As I watched and heard the baby goats up on the pasture at the end of my land, I couldn’t bear to think about those innocent babies going off to be killed for their flesh.

For a few meals.

Meals that could easily give enough sustenance and nutrition without having to add the flesh of a dead animal.

I live in a country where they don’t seem to see the lives of animals as I do. They don’t appear to have the same compassion for sentient beings as I do and that is the hardest part of being here.