Ardence

aka Ardi/Ards

Ardence

I met Ardence as a young adult goat—neglected, malnourished, terrified of humans, and, unbeknownst to us at the time, pregnant. Despite her condition, she had a fire blazing within her, a proud arch to her neck, and epitomized beauty.

Not long after Ardi arrived, she had a miscarriage one morning. Her weary body simply couldn't sustain a pregnancy. But Ardi recovered, and we built up her strength with excellent food and grazing, a warm space to sleep, and set out to teach her that humans can be kind and touch can be comforting.

Ardi fought us every step of the way. As we got to know her better, we realized she had other health conditions too. For the three years I had the privilege of knowing Ardi, this wild girl challenged me. She was stubborn, uncooperative, preferred being slightly isolated—near the herd, but not completely part of them—and was unapologetically her own unique self.

I never stopped trying with Ardi; she had a magic to her that drew me in. Eventually, Ardi became more comfortable around me, accepting treats from my hand and sporadically allowing a quick, soft, and gentle touch. Her wild, independent nature never completely waned; it seemed her past, which we knew so little of, left a lasting mark.

I was with Ardi when she passed. She had to be helped over the rainbow bridge, and the heartbreak I felt then is just as palpable to this day. My time with Ardi wasn't enough; I would have wanted to do more, spend more time with her, love her longer. I can only hope that her time with us did show her that she was cared for, that she mattered. Every morning when I go to greet the goats, I still search for Ardi, to no avail. You will forever be remembered, Ards. I love you.