As most of you know, we show lambs. My son began his 4-H and FFA career as a cloverbud in 4-H when he was 4. His father came home with two gilts (female swine) that quickly became my son's best friends. Over the years, we have replaced them with numerous other show animals. A little over four years ago, my son convinced his father that showing lambs was in his future. He quickly learned that taking care of lambs is harder than swine. They require a different type of work and they become ill faster than swine.
This year we all worked hard to prepare for the end of our show season. The last show for us is in mid March at Oklahoma Youth Expo. Attending the show is like going to a family reunion for our family. We are excited about seeing old friends and making new ones. This year we had worked hard for this event. Days before the show, our animals became ill. One would not eat, one acted as if the drench was making it ill, and one just seemed to stop growing. All year we had worked hard for this event and the lambs seemed to want to quit. My husband rallied his troops and went in search for the best way to fix the problems. And his seemed to be winning the fight.
On show day, the lamb that my son loved was out of sorts. He would stand in the pen with his head down. He seemed to be retaining gas. You could just tell he was not feeling well. The vet prescribed some medicine. We thought things were better. He showed in the cross drive and placed fourth. Then tragedy happened. He went back to the pen and would not get up. After begging, pleading, and prodding; my son was able to get him up. He took three steps down the aisle and fell down and died. The tears and sobbing coming from my 17 year old son was awful. This lamb was like his favorite pet. I quickly removed him from the scene and went into mommy mode. I worked to find a silver lining in the cloud. After calming him down and leaving him with friends, I returned to the stalls to find my 8 year old in tears. She watched as OYE employees placed the lamb in a trash can. She kept repeating "He has a face, he has a name, and he is our pet. Pets don't belong in trash cans." Once again mommy mode took over. How do you explain to an 8 year old that this is a fact of life? How do you make it better? The drive home from the barn was the hardest ever. My kids lost something they loved. They both also lost some of their innocence in that barn. I hope that other show families don't have to go through what we went through.
