14/10/2025
When Blinkin arrived at Sanctuary One in 2010, she came with her mother, Winkin, and the two were attached at the hip. They spent their days wandering the pastures side by side, so tied together that if one wandered out of view, the other would bleat in longing. Their bond was profound, and it defined the early years of their sanctuary life.
When Winkin passed away, Blinkin was lost. She grieved, visibly, and at first seemed unsure how to go on without her constant companion. But Sanctuary One has a way of holding those in sorrow, and over time Blinkin found her place among the herd. She began joining tours, greeting visitors with quiet dignity, and absorbing the rhythms of farm life. She taught us, without words, about resilience, gentleness, and what it means to carry on.
In later years Blinkin preferred the tranquility of the pond pasture, where she could sit in the sun and simply be seen. She greeted visitors there, not with exuberance, but with a calm presence that steadied the heart. During grief retreats, she offered silent comfort, her steady breathing and stillness a balm for hearts heavy with emotion. When new goats arrived, fearful and unsure, Blinkin would move close, but never rushing, always gentle, offering a bridge of trust.
Even in her last days, she leaned into being with people. She basked in brushings, leaning in when touched, her soft ears signaling her delight and need for connection. She had a way of turning the ordinary into something sacred.
We are forever grateful for the years we shared with her and for what she taught us and for being a living lesson in compassion and connection. Blinkin remains woven into the story of Sanctuary One and very much alive in the hearts of all who knew her.
