The Loss of Bonnie: Lessons in Love and Loss on the Homestead

The Loss of Bonnie: Lessons in Love and Loss on the Homestead Last month, we said goodbye to Bonnie, our sweet and silly KuneKune pig. Just an hour before we found her, she was being her usual self—playful and endearing, full of personality that never failed to bring smiles. Then, in a moment that none of us were prepared for, she was gone. The shock of her passing has left us heartbroken and reflective, reminding us of the delicate balance of life when running a homestead alongside a business. Bonnie was more than just livestock; she was family. She had this way of wagging her tail and making little grunting sounds that always made it seem like she was laughing along with us. Finding her passed away, so suddenly and without warning, was a gut-wrenching moment for our family. The tears flowed freely as we processed the loss of this beautiful creature who had brought us so much joy. Life doesn’t pause for grief, though. Running a spa from home meant clients were still scheduled, emails needed to be answered, and the house had to function as both a sanctuary and a business. Balancing the personal and professional during moments like this is no small feat. As much as our hearts were broken, we quickly realized that Clyde, Bonnie’s bonded partner, was grieving too. Pigs are highly social animals, and Clyde’s stress was evident—from pacing to listless behavior. We couldn’t bear to see him lonely, so we made the difficult decision to act quickly. Enter Clarice. She’s a KuneKune just a few months older than Clyde, originally destined for the freezer. Now, she’s learning the ropes of her new life as part of our little farm. While Clyde no longer shows visible signs of stress, he hasn’t exactly warmed up to her yet. It’s a process, and we’re hopeful that time and patience will bring these two together. Watching Clarice adjust, timid but curious, is a small reminder that new beginnings can blossom even in the midst of heartbreak. Winter adds another layer of challenge to an already emotional situation. With the ground frozen solid, burying Bonnie wasn’t an option. Tanner and Landon worked together to build a casket for her, a task that was as practical as it was heart-wrenching. They poured their love and grief into every nail and board, ensuring she had a resting place worthy of the joy she brought to our lives. Once the ground thaws, we’ll give her the burial she deserves, under a tree where she loved to nap during warmer days. Homesteading isn’t just about raising animals; it’s about opening your heart to the cycles of life. The cost of loving something so deeply is the inevitable pain of loss. Bonnie’s passing is a stark reminder of that truth. But it’s also a reminder of why we choose this life—for the love, the joy, and even the heartbreak. As we navigate this new chapter, our hearts are heavy, but we’re finding comfort in small moments. Watching Clarice tentatively explore her new home. Seeing Clyde settle, even if he’s not quite ready to make a new friend. Finding solace in the routine of feeding, cleaning, and caring for the animals who depend on us. Bonnie will always be a part of our story. She taught us to laugh more, to love unconditionally, and to embrace the chaos of life on the homestead. And while her absence is deeply felt, her legacy lives on in the lessons she left behind—and in every joyful grunt from Clyde and Clarice as they learn to forge their own bond. In the end, we’re reminded that life is a series of seasons. Some are joyous and bountiful, while others are marked by loss and reflection. But through it all, we keep going—because that’s what love demands of us.