I am heartbroken. Bob died on Tuesday. A horrible shock to us all. I had been to see the goats for a few hours but gone home early because my leg and back were hurting. I probably left around 1 pm. Around 4 my phone rang. It was Sigrid. She said something terrible had happened. My heart just sank because I knew it had to be something to do with the goats. She told me Bob had died. Something had spooked the goats and they had all run. And Bob’s leash had been set so hard in the ground that he couldn’t pull it free and he ended up strangled in his collar. That’s how I understood it, later when talking to Bodil she said his neck had broken, I think. I don’t know anymore. Maybe I misheard or misunderstood. In any case there was nothing they could do. It happened quickly, Sigrid said. They were all in complete shock over it. As soon as we hung up the phone I just started crying my eyes out. I can’t believe he’s gone. I haven’t been back to the playground yet, so it still feels very unreal. Like some horrible nightmare. Or a cruel joke. I know Sigrid would never, ever play a joke like that on me but as horrible as that would be at least it would mean Bob was still alive.

I couldn’t stop crying. It’s just so sad. Got a lot of really nice and sympathetic comments about it on Facebook. Everyone has gotten to know him through my posts, and they know what the goats mean to me. Wednesday was the 1 year anniversary of Magnethe’s passing. One year for Magnethe, one day for Bob. At least they are together again now. Mother and son. I said on Facebook that now there was nothing left of Magnethe, of the old days. Jen rightly pointed out that that isn’t true. There is still me. I am left from the old days. And there are all the memories. The photos and videos. And all the people around the world who I have shared them with. It is a comfort. And to know I’m not alone. Sometimes I think Facebook might be bad for me. But in times of crisis I can always count on amazing support from the wonderful people I know.

I went to bed around 6 pm or so. Staid in bed for 14-15 hours. Slept a lot of the time. I dreamt about Bob. In the dream he had died but came back to life. It was a miracle. I know it was just my subconscious taking something that had made a big impression on me and making a dream of it. But I choose to believe it was also Bob, stopping by my dream. On his way to the great grass field in the sky. Popping in to remind me that he would always live on with me.

When I turned on my phone in the morning there was a message from Bodil. She was terribly sad and shocked too. She called me again later in the day but I didn’t pick up. I didn’t feel like talking to anyone. But she left another message saying she was worried about me so I called her back. We had a good, little talk. She wanted to know if there was anything she could do. Take me out for some coffee or ice cream or anything. But I just felt like being alone. It was good to talk to her, though. She said they’d all been shocked. Dennis had told her he hoped this wouldn’t stop me from coming to the playground. She had told him she was sure it wouldn’t. And she told me the same thing. Of course I can’t stop going. After all “they’re YOUR goats”. I know they aren’t mine, in a possessive way. But I am part of them and I couldn’t stay away. It’s not like the thought hasn’t crossed my mind. That place has brought me so much happiness, but so much sadness too. Wouldn’t it be better to stay away and not have to deal with that again? But you can’t let the sorrow stop you from loving. Life without love is worse than life without sorrow, right? Some people will say they’re just goats, what’s the big deal. But people who know me will know they are a big deal to me. And I need to see the others again. I need a little time first, though. The weather forecast says Monday will be a warm, sunny day. It looks like a good day to go back. See Mia and the others. Little Palle. The first thing I said the first time I saw Palle was that he looked like a Mini-Bob. I really hope we can get to keep him now. I am sure he will always remind me of Bob. We had never had black goats before Bob.

I went and got myself ice cream. Strawberries. Chocolate. A slush-ice. Haven’t had one of those in 5-6 years. A toast to Bob. I needed a treat. I don’t want to throw away all the progress I have made, though. I have done 3 hour sessions on the bike yesterday and today too. It feels good to let the body overpower the mind. The physical pain is far easier to deal with than the mental anguish. I put the Star Wars book I was listening to on pause and started listening to Mitch Albom’s The Five People You Meet In Heaven instead. It seemed relevant now. Fairness does not govern life and death. Made me cry again. And the part where the protagonist dies. I couldn’t help but hope that was how it was for Bob. Immediate calm and peace. And hopefully his mother there to greet him. I couldn’t help thinking that maybe there will be five goats to meet me in heaven. Bob. Mads. Magnethe. Vanilje. Tiny. Of course I hope to see them all. If we get to pick our own heaven I know where I would go. That endless field of grass in the sky with all the goats I have known. That is where I want to end up.

It’s been a hard couple of days. I loved Bob so much. I try not to play favourites with the goats. I love them all, for their own unique reasons. They all have something special to offer. Their own history and relevance. But Bob was my favourite. He had a special place in my heart. Because of the connection to Magnethe. Because of the uniqueness of his colour. That wonderful black fur. That white tip of his tail. It never failed to make me happy to see it dart back and forth. And he was the first boy that I got to see grow up and grow older instead of leaving. I didn’t know Mads when he was a kid. So Bob was special in many ways. And I really hoped we’d have many good years together.

I spent most of the time I was there on Tuesday with him. He was tied down on top of a little hill. It started pouring down just as I got there. I sat in the rain on the hilld with the goats. Soon the sun broke back out. I was lying back in the wet grass with the sun shining down on me. Bob was hovering above me. I took pictures and video, feeling like a nature photographer lying in the grass to get unusual angles. I gave him some good foot rubs too. He loved those so much. Especially on his hind legs. The goats don’t generally like it if you just grab their hind legs. But when Bob lifted a hind leg up to scratch himself behind his ears I could grab onto it and start scratching around the hoof. He absolutely loved that, his head whirring around in that way goats do when you hit the perfect spot for them. Magnethe’s spot was the front of her neck. Bob’s was his hind hooves. The last thing I did before I left was give him a couple of raisins.

I can’t stop thinking about what would have happened if I had stayed? I almost didn’t go at all. Because my body was aching. I slept in a bit and was debating whether I should just stay home. But I wanted to see the goats. I am glad I did, otherwise I wouldn’t have gotten those last couple of hours with him. But what if I had stayed longer? I know me being there wouldn’t have stopped the goats from being spooked by whatever it was. I have seen it countless times. It can be a little cat or a lawn mower starting or a postman riding by on a big bike. Anything can set them off and they run away in a flock. And it’s not uncommon for the ones that are tied down to take a fall that can look quite dramatic when they reach the end of their leash. If he broke his neck I wouldn’t have been able to do anything. If he had been strangled maybe I could have loosened it? Sigrid said it was quick and there was nothing they could do. But if I had been sitting right next to him, maybe? Or maybe me going home early just meant that I was spared witnessing his death. Maybe it was a good thing. There is not much point in wondering, since done is done. Whatever happened happened. I wonder too if the collar was to blame. It was a different kind than the ones Kamel and Mio wear. Theirs can’t be tightened around the neck. Bob’s could. Many times I’d fidget with it to loosen it up because it got too tight around his neck. Too tight for my liking, it never seemed to bother him. And none of us thought of course that it could do any harm. I have no idea if it would have made a difference if he had worn the same kind as the others. If it was a freak accident or if the collar was bad or what. Maddening to think about now. I know I was sad that he had to start wearing a collar at all. After so long when he had been allowed to just walk around freely without one. If only the goats knew not to wander off. But no matter how much fresh, green grass there is they always start migrating away. Too many ifs and buts.

Shock is the only word that covers it. I knew Wednesday would be sad because of the anniversary of Magnethe’s death. I had no idea how sad it would end up being. Mads died in the summertime too. It’s hard not to get paranoid. I just love those goats so much, it’s painful to lose them.

I need to get back to work on my goat tribute site. Now more than ever.

I will never forget you, Bob. You were a magnificent, wonderful goat buddy. Say hi to your mom from me.

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