Ten Years With Ewa
Ewa's story with us began nearly ten years ago, alongside her sisters, Olivia and Eleanor.
Born on March 1, 2016, the triplets arrived at Full Circle Farm Sanctuary as piglets after being rescued from a farmers market in Columbus, Georgia, where they were being sold for food.
They were still unnamed when they began their journey to sanctuary. We couldn't have known then how deeply we would come to love them, or who each of those tiny piglets would grow to become.
One of them was Ewa.
The Person She Became
Ewa was pure joy and light.
She was one of the gentlest people we have ever known. She had a sweetness about her that is difficult to adequately describe, a happy disposition, soulful eyes, and a perfect pink triangle on her lower lip.
Ewa loved her wallow and exploring for snack opportunities. And because she was so incredibly cute, passing her pasture without offering a special treat required considerably more willpower than most of us possessed.
Treats with Ewa and Olivia required a little strategy.
Olivia was quicker on her feet and more assertive. Both girls were going to get something, of course, but delivering Ewa's share sometimes required careful timing.
Ewa enjoyed scratches and belly rubs, on her terms. And there were few sights more endearing than watching her head suddenly appear from the house where she napped beside Olivia, sometimes with pieces of straw still scattered across her face.
Her happy tail wags and grunts would make us smile.
These were ordinary moments. They were also the moments that made up a life.
A Survivor
Ewa's life was not without tremendous physical challenges. When she was still young, a serious injury to her right rear leg eventually required extensive specialty surgery at the University of Tennessee in 2017.
She survived. And then she kept living a full life.
For years afterward, caring for Ewa meant paying attention to what her body told us and adapting as her needs changed. As she grew older and mobility became more challenging, her environment and care changed with her.
It was a privilege to make those adaptations for her, and it is part of what lifelong sanctuary asks of us. The promise remains the same, even as the care needed to fulfill it evolves over a lifetime.
Her Needs Had Changed Again
Earlier this month, we noticed a new change in the way Ewa was walking.
Given her history and increasing mobility challenges, Ewa needed more than observation. She needed diagnostics to help us understand what was happening inside her body and determine what treatment options might keep her comfortable. She stepped onto the trailer to return to Auburn University for specialty veterinary care.
Radiographs revealed severe osteoarthritis affecting multiple joints, including both elbows and ankles, along with chronic changes in her right shoulder.
What initially appeared to be a change in the way Ewa was walking revealed something much larger.
Her needs had changed again. And so would her care.
Those were the words we shared with our community as we began planning for what we believed would be the next phase of Ewa's care. At the time, that meant beginning a new course of pain management and continuing to evaluate what would help keep her comfortable. We didn't yet know how quickly her needs would change once more.
One Final Change
Over the next three days, Ewa's condition fluctuated. She received pain medication, careful monitoring, and time to recover. We remained in close contact with her veterinary team and visited Ewa throughout her hospitalization, evaluating her condition alongside the people caring for her. There were moments of hope, including a belly rub met with those familiar happy grunts.
However, it became clear that the profound mobility challenges we were seeing were being driven by the severity of Ewa's underlying joint disease. Despite every effort, she could no longer comfortably support herself, and there was no treatment capable of restoring the mobility she needed for a good quality of life.
By her final day, Ewa's pain had become overwhelming. She was no longer eating or drinking, could not move independently, and the light in her soulful eyes had left. There was nothing more we could reasonably ask of her.
Her needs had changed one final time. And so did her care.
The Promise
For nearly ten years, keeping our promise to Ewa meant helping her live the fullest, most comfortable life we could give her. On her final day, keeping that promise meant letting her go.
Though we grieve her loss deeply, Ewa's story is so much bigger than her final three days.
Ewa passed peacefully with us beside her. She was 10 years old.
For nearly ten years, keeping our promise to Ewa meant helping her live the fullest, most comfortable life we could give her. On her final day, keeping that promise meant letting her go.
Though we grieve her loss deeply, Ewa's story is so much bigger than her final three days.
Ewa had already beaten extraordinary odds. After the devastating injury to her right rear leg and extensive surgery in 2017, she went on not simply to survive, but to thrive for years beyond it. Her mobility had its ups and downs over time, and as her body changed, we adapted alongside her.
Eventually, that meant creating a limited-mobility pasture for Ewa and Olivia, an environment designed around what their bodies needed while still giving them the freedom to enjoy the things that made their days their own. There were wallows to sink into, comfortable places to rest, room to explore, and, of course, plenty of opportunities to search for snacks.
That longevity wasn't accidental. It was supported by years of attentive care, veterinary medicine, trips to specialist, environmental adaptations, and a willingness to keep asking the same question as Ewa grew older: What does she need from us now?
The answer changed many times over nearly ten years. The promise never did.
Ewa's life has ended, but our responsibility to care for her with dignity has not.
For the residents who have passed in our care, we have gone to extraordinary lengths to ensure they are treated with dignity after death, arranging their cremation and bringing their ashes home to the sanctuary. It is a responsibility we hold deeply, and one we will continue to make every effort to fulfill.
Ewa will come home, too.
Her ashes will be cared for alongside those of the residents who came before her, in a memorial space created to honor the individuals who have called this sanctuary home. There, we preserve more than ashes. Footprints, feathers, locks of hair, and other small memories of the residents we have loved are kept with deep reverence. Even in how residents are placed within that space, we remember the relationships they shared in life, keeping friends near friends whenever we can.
For some of the largest residents, we have even constructed their memorial vessels ourselves, creating what was needed to bring them home and honor them with the same individuality we knew in life.
Soon, Ewa will come home one final time.
But Ewa's life cannot be contained in what we bring home with us.
She is in nearly ten years of memories, in naps beside Olivia, searches for snacks, dips in the wallow, belly rubs, carefully timed treats, happy tail wags, and pieces of straw stuck to that beautiful face.
We were beside Ewa when she arrived at the sanctuary as a small, unnamed piglet. Ten years later, we were beside her as she passed peacefully.
Between those moments were thousands of opportunities to know her and to fall in love with exactly who she was.
And we did. Again and again.
We will miss you and your happy tail wags, sweet, gentle, perfect Ewa.
More than words can hold.
