Drochscéal

Cúpla seachtain ó shin, chuaigh mé síos chun mo chuid alpacaí a sheoladh chun na páirce uachtaraí, agus bhí cuma shláintiúil is sásta orthu go léir. Bhí imní orm mar chaill Seacláid meáchan, ach taobh amuigh de sin, bhí cuma mhaith uirthi. Bhí a fhios agam go dóiche an cúram a bhí uirthi ag tógáil a cria. Dá bhrí sin, chinn mé go mbainfainn den bhainne é. Bá é seo fáth eile í a sheoladh chun an páirce uachtaraí, áit a mbeadh féar úr aici, agus bheinn ábalta súil a choinneáil uirthi.

Dá bhrí sin, chuir mé na hadhastair orthu, agus thosaigh mé á dtreorú, ach tar éis cúpla meadar shuigh Seacláid síos agus ní raibh sí sásta éirí suas. Tar éis tamaill a chaitheamh ag iarraidh í a chuir ina sheasamh, threoraigh mé na cinn eile beagán ní b'fháide, cheangail iad, agus chuaigh ar ais chun í a fháil. Sheas sí suas, agus bhí cuma shásúil uirthi. Shúil muid píosa, agus shuigh sí síos arís, agus ní bhogfadh rud ar bith í.

Chuir mé glaoch ar an tréidlia, thug sé vitimíní agus rudaí mar sin, agus rug muid í suas an cnoc agus isteach an beithíoch. Dúirt an tréidlia nuair a thosaíonn ainmhí ag cailleadh meáchán, ní raibh mórán seans aige, ach mar nach bhfuil cuma péine uirthi, ba choir dúinn fanacht cúpla lá.

Chuir mé plúideanna go leor agus buidéil uisce te uirthi,agus d'oscail mé mála úr "calf munchies" ar a son. (Tá boladh chomh deas as mála úr "calf munchies", iontach cosúil le cinnamon, thiocfaidh cathú ort féin é a bhlaiseadh. Ná bac leis; tá blas gairbhéal, maranáidithe i molás, air.) Thug mise agus Dougal cuairt uirthi gach cúpla uair ar feadh an lae. Thosaigh mé ag éirí dóchasach mar d'ith sí go cíocrach, ach lá go leith ina dhiaidh sin, thosaigh sí bia ag diúltú, agus bhí orm glacadh leis an chinniúint. Chuir mé glaoch ar an tréidlia í a chur síos, ach fuair sí bás tamall gairid sular tháinig sé. Dúirt sé nár fhulaing sí.

Tá bród orm as an gharcheangal le mo chuid ainmhithe. Tá aithne agam orthu mar ainmhí aonair agus tá muinín acu asam. Cén chaoi go mbeadh duine a léigh leabhartha James Herriot go léir dosaen uair ábalta lig rud chomh hinseachanta a hainmhithe a mharú? An fhadhb le halpacaí, agus ainmhithe tréada i gcoitinne, ná nach dtaispeánann siad aon chomharthaí go dtí go mbíonn siad ar bhruach an bháis. Chuala mé ráite á go mbíonn caora "subject to a wide variety of diseases, the first symptom of which is usually death".

Cé go raibh mé féin ciontach i mbás Seacláide, tá sólás le fáil sólás agam as an tuiscint go bhfuil mé ag foghlaim, agus ní dhéanfaidh mé an botún céanna arís. Is dócha go ndéanann feirmeoirí a bhfuil taithí acu botún anois is arís. Tá mé sásta go raibh a fhios agam gur chóir domh mo chuid ainmhithe a lomadh ní ba luaithe sa bliain, agus go seas mé lomadh a fhoghlaim mar nach bhfuil mé ábalta duine a fháil go dtí an mí Lúnasa. Dá mbeadh cóta iomlán ar Seacláid, b'fhéidir go gcuidigh sé léi.

Tá ná halpacaí eile maith go leor, agus tá sraith bhlonaige slánúil orthu. Beidh cúram éigin ó Foighid bocht, cria Seacláide, le cinntiú nach gcaillfidh sé meáchan dá bhrí scoitheadh. Ceapaim nach bhfuil rud ar bith le déanamh ar son Seacláide anois ach an aire is fearr a thabhairt dá mhac.


A couple of weeks ago I went down to shift my alpacas to the upper field, and they all looked happy and healthy. I was concerned because Seacláid had lost weight, but apart from that she seemed fine. I knew it was probably due to the extra burden of nursing a cria (baby alpaca), so decided I would wean him immediately. This was all the more reason to get her to the upper field where she could have fresh grass, and I could keep a closer eye on her.

So I put the halters on them, and started leading them, but after a few meters Seacláid sat down and wouldn't get up. After trying to get her up for a bit, I took the others a bit further along, tied them, and went back to get her. She got up, and seemed fine. We walked a bit, and she sat down again, and this time nothing would shift her.

I called the vet, he gave her some vitamins and stuff, and we moved her up the hill into the byre. The vet says that once they start losing weight they go down quickly, but since she didn't seem to be in any discomfort we should wait a day or two to see.

I bundled her up with lots of blankets and hot water bottles, and opened a fresh bag of calf munchies just for her. (A freshly opened bag of calf munchies smells so delicious, so cinnamon-y, that you'd be tempted to try it yourself. Don't bother; it tastes like gravel marinated in molasses.) Dougal and I visited her every few hours around the clock. I was beginning to have hope because she ate with gusto, but a day and a half later she started refusing food, and I had to accept the inevitable. I called the vet to put her down, but she died shortly before he arrived. He did say that she didn't suffer.

I pride myself on having a close relationship to my animals, knowing them as individuals and having earned their trust. How could someone who has read all of the James Herriot books a dozen times have let something so preventable kill one of her precious animals? The problem with alpacas, and I think herd animals in general, is that they don't show any symptoms until they're at death's door. I've heard it said of sheep that they "are subject to a wide variety of diseases, the first symptom of which is usually death".

Although Seacláid's situation was my own fault, I'm consoling myself with the fact that I am learning, and I won't make the same mistake again. Probably even experienced farmers make mistakes occasionally. And I give myself credit for recognising that my animals need to be sheared earlier in the year, and insisting on learning how to do it since I can't get anyone to come here to do it until August. If Seacláid had had a full coat, it might have helped.

The other alpacas are doing well, and have a healthy layer of fat. Poor little Foighid, Seacláid's cria, will need special looking after to make sure he doesn't lose any weight as a result of being weaned. I guess all I can do for Seacláid now is to take the best possible care of her son.

Comhairle

Ní itheann na Seapánaí mórán saille, agus faigheann siad níos lú teipeanna croí ná na Sasanaí nó na Meiriceánaí.

Ar an taobh eile, itheann na Fraincisí a lán saille, agus faigheann siad níos lú teipeanna croí ná na Sasanaí nó na Meiriceánaí, chomh maith.

Ní ólann na Seapánaí mórán fíon dearg, agus faigheann siad níos lú teipeanna croí ná na Sasanaí nó na Meiriceánaí.

Ach ólann na Iodálaí a lán fíon dearg agus faigheann siad níos lú teipeanna croí ná na Sasanaí nó na Meiriceánaí, chomh maith.

Mar chríoch: ith agus ól mar is mian leat. Is é labhairt an Béarla a mharaíonn tú.


The Japanese eat very little fat and suffer fewer heart attacks than the British or the Americans.

On the other hand, the French eat a lot of fat and also suffer fewer heart attacks than the British or the Americans.

The Japanese drink very little red wine and suffer fewer heart attacks than the British or the Americans.

The Italians drink excessive amounts of red wine and also suffer fewer heart attacks than the British or the Americans.

Conclusion: Eat and drink whatever you like. It's speaking English that kills you.

Taibhse Cait

Tá Dougal iontach sásta lena phiscín nua. Bíonn an péire acu ina luí le chéile go minic. Is deacair an piscín dubh a fheiceáil in aghaidh fionnaidh dhuibh an mhadadh.

Nuair a bhí an piscín ní ba lú, bhí dlaoithe an-fháda ("guard hairs") anseo agus ansiúd uirthi, ina cosúil le cleití an torcáin (porcupine quills). Chuir sí an líne Shakespeare, "Like quills upon the fretful porpentine" i gcuimhne domh. Luaigh P. G. Wodehouse an líne i gcúpla úrscéal faoi Bertie agus Jeeves. Dá bhrí sin, thug mé an ainm "Porpentine" (nó "Porpentina" anois is arís) uirthi faoi dheireadh.

Tá súil agam go mbeidh saol fada le chéile ag an phéire acu. Tar éis bhás Cluasa Bándearga agus bhás Gealán, d'fhán mé tamall sula bhfuair mé cat eile. Bhí brón orm agus ar Dougal, ach ní raibh mé réidh le cat eile a fháil fós. Ach fuair mé sólás i sraith imeachtaí rúndiamhra.

Oíche amháin, nuair a chuaigh mé go dtí an leaba, agus Dougal ina chodladh ar an urlár, mhothaigh mé cat ag tuirlingt ar na plúideanna. Ní raibh ach mise agus Dougal sa teach, agus níl Dougal ábalta dul suas ar an leaba. Ní raibh ach aon léiriú amháin ann: bhí taibhse cait orainn.

Tháinig an taibhse cait ar ais anois is arís ar feadh cúpla mí. Ní fhaca mé é riamh, ach mhothaigh mé a láithreacht, ag tuirlingt ar an leaba nó ag súil trasna mo choirp. Ní raibh sé scanrúil ar scor ar bith. Bhí mé uaigneach gan chat, agus fuair mé sólás as an taibhse cait. Faoi dheireadh, stop teacht an taibhse cait, agus bhí sé in am agam cat eile a fháil.

Is duine ciallmhar mé, agus ní chreidim i dtaibhsí. Ach bhí áthas orm go mbeidh taibhse cait agam ar feadh tamall.



Dougal is very happy with his new kitten. The two of them often sleep together. It's difficult to see the black kitten against the black fur of the dog.

When the kitten was smaller, she had very long guard hairs that looked like porcupine quills. She reminded me of the Shakespeare line, "Like quills upon the fretful porpentine". P. G. Wodehouse referred to the line in some of his Bertie and Jeeves novels. So I finally named her "Porpentine" (or sometimes "Porpentina").

I hope they have a long life together. After the deaths of Cluasa Bándearga and Gealán, I waited a while before getting another cat. I was sad, as was Dougal, but I wasn't ready to get another cat yet. But I was comforted by a strange series of events.

One night, when I went to bed and Dougal was asleep on the floor, I felt a cat jump onto the bed. Only Dougal and I were in the house, and Dougal isn't able to get onto the bed. There was only one possible explanation: we had a ghost cat.

The ghost cat came back now and again for a few months. I never saw him, but I felt his presence, jumping onto the bed or walking across my body. It wasn't at all frightening. I was lonely for a cat, and I found comfort in a ghost cat. Finally, the ghost cat stopped coming, and it was time to get another cat.

I'm a sensible person, and I don't believe in ghosts. But I was happy to have a ghost cat for a while.