Memorializing Marge

Did you ever know someone who seemed a bit shy about coming forward to make your acquaintance? Someone who you thought might like to be friends, but they just didn't seem to know how? Someone truly beautiful, who did not even know just how lovely they were? Who, after you made the first move, seemed so grateful for your attention that you were soon fast and everlasting friends?

If you knew someone like this, you knew Shat Acres Marge. For nearly 20 of her 22.5 years, Marge lived among our other Highlands, doing what Highlands do best--growing healthy babies, keeping pastures managed and well kept, and adding to the beauty of our farm. Though Marge was never unfriendly, she mostly kept to herself.

That is, until Marge watched Christian Holland daily offering carrots and apples to her Highland pasture mates. And not only apples and carrots, but copious combings and sweet talk. Marge was curious--each day coming closer and closer to the treats, until one day she sampled the goodies. And let Christian run a comb through her beautiful red hair.

And the bonding began. Soon Marge was coming for treats and daily combing from Christian. The last several years of Marge's life were filled with the wonder of human companionship. Christian combed and groomed Marge nearly every day, even when Christian had to travel miles to for them to spend time together. Like with all true friendships, it was hard to say who brought who more comfort and joy.

Until it was time to say good-by. With Marge's increasing arthritis, we did not want her to suffer through the brutal cold of another Vermont winter. At the age of 22 1/2, the oldest Highland we have ever had in our fifty-seven years of raising these majestic beasts, Marge was laid to rest on the farm, buried with her 61.5" horn spread intact, as beautiful and magnificent as ever.

R.I.P. Shat Acres Marge, knowing you were loved beyond measure.