This isn’t going to be a long post because I can barely stand to write it. I’ve been dreading writing this and sharing it with you all.
Otis is going to be put down.
There are no words to explain my misery right now. He was supposed to live for forever. I didn’t want to have to tell anyone. He was supposed to live for forever!! Why Otis, why not some other bull?? We have no choice though. Otis got hurt really bad.
You see, when bulls breed cows, they can get injured. They can fall off and hit something, another cow could be in their way, or they could trip on something. Unfortunately, something along those lines happened to my Otis baby. The vet isn’t sure what all happened, but it appears that Otis broke something in his leg–putting him in a lot of pain. We have treated him with medicine, confined him to areas, and did everything the vet instructed. He seemed to be doing better, but then things turned for the worse. He’s not the same animal anymore and you can see the pain in his face. There is no fixing this, there is no bringing my boy back to health. We can do nothing to save him and I feel completely helpless.
I told dad that I wouldn’t go back to the farm until Otis has passed, I can’t be there. I can’t be where he was, I just can’t. He was my everything.
Judge me all you want, but that bull was the most amazing creature I have ever had. He didn’t have a mean bone in his body. What bull do you know of that would let you lay on them in the field? Or that would come when you called his name? Otis was there for me after my horse accident and every time I felt like giving up, I could go to him and my spirits would be lifted. He always listened and loved to be by me. He let me lay my head on him and cry. Anxiety attacks would cease once I touched his soft hide. He never once tried to hurt me, but only loved me. Otis never missed a chance to get his butt scratched or go for a walk with me. He had the most forgiving eyes, the cutest curls on his face and neck, and the cutest little strut.
There will never be another Otis. I will miss him more than he will ever know. This is one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.
Otis will be processed. This part has been the hardest for me to take in. I admit it. But, just like loved ones who donate their organs, Otis is donating himself to others in need. He is out of his misery. I couldn’t keep him alive for my own needs. That is selfish. His sense of life was gone and it became harder every day to see the pain in his eyes.
The thing that comforts me the most is what my dad said to me after I said good-bye to Otis. Dad said, “Kellie, would you have preferred that I castrated him so that we would have sold him 3 years ago and you wouldn’t have to go through this pain?” (I responded with a “NO!!”) “Kellie, you had 4 years with him. It may not have been the longest you wanted, but it’s 3 years longer that you would have. You had a great three years with him”
Oh dad, you’re absolutely correct–some of the best 3 years of my life happened while Otis was alive.
Rest in peace my beautiful Hereford bull. I hope you’re entertaining Grandpa and enjoying getting back rubs from him. (He knows your favorite spot, I told him he had to scratch you for me.)
I love you Otis Patotis. So very much. Forever and Always.