I had a smack-in-the-face realization the other day and had to make a decision where one of the factors is how long I will live.
We’ve been doing research about rescuing a pair of mini donkeys one day in the near future, so we will need a sleeping area, some hot fence, and knowledge.
I googled how long they live just to see, and read that some have lived for 50 years! Generally speaking, their average lifespan is about 30 years. Let’s talk numbers.
If I rescue a mini donkey as a baby and it lives for 50 years, best case scenario, I will be 97 and still taking care of it. 97. It made me think of how fast time’s already gone and how fast it will continue to move. I know we talk about it all the time, but dang!
I wonder if I will be 97 one day with a long gray braid and a million grandkids running around, God and Earth willing. Maybe one of them will help me take care of all my farm animals and property, or maybe I will make it big and be able to hire someone I trust to take care of things. Whatever happens, it made me realize that I do, in fact, want to live until my 97th birthday. At least.
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