Occasionally in life you find yourself on the wrong side of the equation and if you're lucky someone or something will reveal to you the other possible points of view. I was reminded of this Monday afternoon. My son, Zeke, joined FFA (Future Farmers of America) this year when he entered High School. We talked at great length about the commitment involved in raising a show animal and the challenges that each one brings to the table. Things like: Sheep are dumb and act like cats, Goats are a pain in the butt and are true escape artists, Pigs are really smart and you can teach them to do anything a dog can do, but if they are used to you doing something for them and you miss a day they get their feelings hurt and can be hard to deal with, Steers are big and they eat a lot, but they end up being really big puppy dogs and the really bad news, he isn't raising a pet.
After much discussion, he decided on a lamb. Since this is an Agri-business project, I bought his lamb in exchange for his raising a feeder lamb for me. It's a nice cooperative approach and he saves the cost of his lamb at market.Okay, so the day the lambs arrived i went with him to drag the feeder to the barn while he dragged his show lamb. We didn't really drag them, but they weren't too keen on the halter to say the least. When they picked their lambs, there were twenty kids and he drew number "2". What a great place in the order for picking. He took his turn and i really liked this smoky colored one, but he picked this white lamb i wasn't too keen on and then he got the one leftover lamb for our feeder.
So, we get them back to their stall and get them all fixed up and go home.We quickly fell into the routine of going to the barn, mucking the stall, dragging them for exercise, halter feeding them, and going home. However, we did have a bit of a rough start getting our son to be proactive in taking control, especially haltering them. I showed him how to corner them and grab them, squeeze them between your legs and halter them up. So, about the third day i haltered the feeder (Oreo) and tied him in the run. Then i watched as Zeke chased the big one (Milky, his show lamb) around and around the stall. It looked a lot like Tom and Jerry, but wasn't at all funny to me. After all, he's about 5'7" and 150 and this lamb is about 100lbs. I got irritated at him dallying with the damn thing and grabbed him abruptly and barked at him. I told him if he didn't take haltering his lamb seriously he could get hurt and not to underestimate it because it's so cute and cuddly. He gave me one of those teen looks of terror and bewilderment, so i showed him again.
There is a two step riser in the corner for them to stand on, with their front legs, while they eat in their stall. Yeah, you know what's coming. I grabbed that woolly bugger and ended up straddling it on the top tier of the riser. With it firmly between my legs, i went to halter it. As i reached with the halter, the damn thing bucked and i went flying.
When i found my feet again, they were straight out in front of me. My butt bone hit the ground, my back hit one step and my neck hit the second. Now i have been knocked silly a time or two in this life, but that crap hurt. I swear this wasn't two minutes after i told him not to do the very same thing. ACk!!! Karma is a mother.
I didn't break anything, but i bruised more than my pride. On the upside though, Zeke has taken control of the lambs and is handling them like a pro.
I wonder if that's what they mean when they talk about sacrificing for your kids??
Till next time, watch what you say, it might be good advice.
Dave
