Paula

Paula, my wonderful Paula.
She looks at me with her big brown eyes, and there is nothing I can do for her, nothing at all.
The runt of the group, last on the pecking order, always last to the meal no matter how many feeding boxes I lay out, she belongs to the herd and knows her place.  The smallest girl, a delicate little face, she walks awkwardly in the paddock.  I thought it was her frame, but our breeder reckoned she is a little rickety.  Part of me has resented a little, the way things are, just a little.  But she seems ok with it all. 
When Sunny had her baby, Shelly, Paula was a great aunt.  What a wonderful thing to see, but still, she is on the outskirts.  Two years with no apparent pregnancies, how happy I was when Warrior arrived and Paula was mated.  When all was said and done, Warrior walked off to the other girls, and Paula behind, rushing to his side, smitten.  He turned around and spat.  He had other girls to attend to now.  Poor Paula!  I felt her little heart break.
Seasons went by, and Paula is pregnant.  No one else, only our little Paula.  How happy was I, It couldn’t have happened to a nicer girl.  She will have her own baby, her own little fluff ball.  No longer an auntie on the outskirts, she is now the centre of her own reality.
As the months went by, Paula got bigger.  She also became more assertive in the herd, as mothers do.  ‘Good on you, Paula’, I thought to myself.
And when the time came she had a perfect birth, delivering a perfect little boy, Sammy.  I would joke when I saw him, how perfect he was.  ‘All his dad, that’s for sure… ‘ And of course, Paula was a perfect mum.
A couple of weeks went by, Warrior was back to service the other girls, and Paula with Sammy by her side, is outside the loop, for all the right reasons this time.
And then came that terrible night.  The dogs barked ferociously, trying to get to the other side of the fence.  I thought we had an intruder in the shed, but found nothing.  Less than an hour later it was time to take everyone in.  As I went to the girls I saw a herd scattered.  Millie and Sunny were in one corner.  Paula was already inside, alone.  And Sammy was gone. 
I felt the chill spread through my body.  We looked all night, but couldn’t find him.  Deep down I knew it couldn’t be good.  Had he been alive somewhere, she would be with him.  That night, she sat and looked towards the shed, and cried.  And I cried with her.
I saw the strange dogs the following morning, in the paddock with Warrior, Carla, and Charlotte.  Charlotte was bleeding.  After the owners came and took their dogs away we continued to search.  I so hoped Sammy had scattered in the chaos, yet to be found.  We found his little white lifeless body just before noon.  His back lacerated, and his neck broken.  If only I had understood what my dogs were telling me last night!
A couple more weeks have passed.  Warrior died last week.  A stomach tear.  Suspected stress injury.  Charlotte has recovered well, and I believe she would not have been so lucky had Warrior not been there with her.  And Paula still cries, not as much as before, but she still cries.  So do I.
Father and son are dead.  If we have new pregnancies, Warrior will live on with us.  But when they are born, Paula will not be one of the mums.  She will be alone another season.  And I look into her beautiful big brown sad eyes, and I know I can’t help her.  This couldn’t have happened to a nicer girl, and there is nothing I can do for her, nothing at all.  And I look to the gods and wonder: where is your diamond now?

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