Goodbye
to Tzadi, as well. . . .
In the fall of 2009, after Brad's
death, Tzadi went missing. She was not sick. We searched and searched
but were unable to find her alive or dead.
Tzadi was known around the neighborhood
and by the local policewoman, so her disappearance was strange--pure
speculation on my part suspects that her disappearance was connected to
the theft of one of BMCA alpacas. Although the theft was investigated,
it was not solved. A young man who lived close to the farm was overheard
saying that he had shot an alpaca. If Tzadi had found the missing
alpaca, dead, she would not have left it. I'll never know what happened.
Tzadi was extra special. I tend not to
be a "dog person," but I loved Tzadi and I can truthfully say that she
loved me too. One day Brad and I took her with us on a mushroom hunt
with a group of friends from my church. One of the women had a dog with
her that, as we approached, seemed to run at me. Tzadi immediately went
into protection mode!
Tzadi learned the word "baby." When Brad
first got some baby chicks and turkeys, he kept the crated up until they
were big enough to let out. He would carry the crate outside and open
the door and let them wander around in the yard until evening set in.
Tzadi went crazy at first--trying to round them up and get them back
into the crate. Eventually, she would just lay nearby and keep an eye on
them. The two turkeys were fascinated with Tzadi's whiskers--they would
go up and try to pull at them--she would just lift her head higher and
higher. I can't find a copy, but I remember a picture Brad took of one
of the young turkeys sitting on Tzadi's head!
lBrad used to host school and pre-school
children on the farm to visit the alpacas and chickens and
"Chicken-Noodle-Soup." One afternoon, a rather large group of mothers
and young children were visiting and had the run of the place during
their picnic. When the group when to leave, they noticed that one
little girl was missing. Brad said to Tzadi, "Where's the baby?" Tzadi
led Brad to the little girl, who had wandered a bit away and feel asleep
in the grass!
One afternoon, Tzadi "forced" Brad to a
spot on the farm where he found a young fawn. Brad put Tzadi in the
house and actually came to my house, hoping the fawn and its mother
would be reunited. When he returned home, along with me, we saw that a
doe had been hit by a car on the road. P
robably
the mother. So we took the fawn in the house and warmed some milk and
finally got it to drink using the finger from a rubber glove.
We were warned (by ID wildlife folks)
that the fawn would likely not live. But neither Brad nor Tzadi were
willing to let that happen. Every few hours, Brad would get up to warm
the milk and go outside to feed the fawn. Many times, he had to be "led"
to the fawn by Tzadi--it was hard to see at night with its protective
coloring! The fawn grew and bonded with Tzadi. One morning when Brad
went out to feed the fawn, he found it laying beside Tzadi in her bed on
the front porch!
When Tzadi would walk around, the fawn
would follow it, calling to her. But the fawn (nicknamed Venison) kept
growing. There was no way Brad could have a tame buck on the property.
He managed to contact someone who rescued wildlife and was able to give
Venizon a new home.
