Sheep

My brother's and sisters and I participated in 4-H every year. We had decided to add sheep to our long list of 4-H projects. We picked out a little pack of bum lambs and raised them. There was a lot of effort involved with keeping them alive, and, in fact, we lost a few. The ones who lived received constant care. We bottle fed them throughout the day and twice at night. It was so hard to wake up, mix their milk, and prepare the bottles in the middle of the night. My mom told us we now knew what it was like to have a real baby and she laughed. I didn't think it was funny. I was tired.


When we left for Kamiah, the lambs were about three quarters grown. We put the sheep in a pen below the cabin flat. My lamb's name was Speckles. She was a white ewe with black spots all over her face. My sister's lamb was named Imp. She was white with a brown face. Our first winter in Kamiah brought Pam and I a happy surprise. Dad had told us that our ewes were too young to breed and that we would have to wait another year before they would have lambs of their own. As winter came closer to an end we began to notice both sheep's bellies growing wider and wider. It became obvious that they were pregnant. Pam and I were elated. We took extra care of our ewes, making sure they had the water and food they needed to maintain their pregnancies. We eagerly awaited the day when the new lambs would come.


A few months went by and before we knew it, it was time! Speckles went into labor first, she baaed and paced in circles in her pen. When it was time for her to deliver, Dad went down to help her. She was grunting and panting. She was in a lot of pain. It was hard for me to watch, but I knew that something wonderful was about to happen and that made it easier. It seemed like an eternity before the lamb was delivered. As I watched, out came a beautiful snowy white lamb, he was perfect! My heart swelled with joy, then I noticed the lamb was not moving. Dad held the lamb in his arms, clearing out his nose and mouth. There was still no movement. I stood stock still. I was afraid to move. It was as if the world had stopped. Dad picked the lamb up by his hind legs and swung him around in the air. He was trying to get him to take a breath. I just stood and stared. Dad tried several times, swinging the lamb, setting him down for a few seconds of rest and then swinging him again. I was in agony watching the process. I felt helpless and couldn't utter a word. After a few minutes, Dad gave up. He laid the lamb on the ground. "I'm sorry, Bug," he said "I don't know what went wrong." Speckles stepped forward and began to clean the baby with her tongue. My heart broke for me and for her and my eyes filled with tears.


Dad stood watching Speckles for a moment, then he gave her a few pets on the head and removed the lamb from the pen. It was getting dark. Dad sent me to the cabin while he and Dale dug a grave for the lamb. I was tearful. My mom told me to get some sleep so I could feel better in the morning. I laid in my bed with only the tarp separating me from the outdoors and from the mournful cries of poor Speckles who was searching for her baby. With every bleat she made, my heart broke more and I cried harder. Presently, Dad and Dale returned to the cabin. Hearing me sobbing in my bed, Dad said, "She'll be OK, Bug, animal's don't feel pain the same way we do. In a few days she will forget about it." I turned over on my pillow and continued to cry. It was the first time that Dad had said something that I didn't believe.


The next day, I visited the lambs grave. In an outpouring of emotion, I named him Miles, knowing that it meant soldier. I felt that he was a brave little guy, coming to earth and being taken so suddenly. I visited his grave every day for at least a month. I spent extra time with Speckles. My heart ached for her. I would stand in the pen with her and stroke her face and give her the horses grain to eat as a special treat. After a few days, she stopped searching for her baby. She seemed to go back to her normal self and it helped me to heal as well.


Just a few days after Speckles lost her little lamb, Imp went into labor. Pam and I watched as she paced the pen, panting and bleating. Dad went down to help her as the lamb was being born. I stood and watched. Before long, Imp had given birth to a beautiful white lamb. A baby boy, just like Miles. Imp's lamb was wiggling and trying to stand up. I watched with mixed emotions as Dad lifted the lamb and dipped his umbilical cord into a pan of iodine. Pam was beside me, excited and happy and proclaiming to the world how cute her new lamb was. I just stood. I was so happy that Imp had come through the birth OK. I was so happy that the little lamb seemed healthy and fine, but I was sad and my sadness was causing a sick, horrid feeling of jealousy to bubble up inside of me. It wasn't fair. I worked just as hard at taking care of my ewe as Pamella had. I spent just as many hours bottle feeding her in the middle of the night, taking hay and water to her and giving her affection. Why did everything always work for Pamella? Why did things always go wrong for me? Pamella got in the pen and began helping Dad. Imp licked the baby clean, but Dad didn't think she had done a good enough job to keep the lamb warm that night, so now Pamella had an old towel and was drying the baby herself. I stood and I watched and a tear rolled down my cheek. I walked back to the cabin. My mom saw my face and asked me what was wrong. I told her I was tired and went to bed. I cried myself to sleep.


The next morning I heard a familiar sound and it was not a good sound. Imp was bleating, a terrible cry. Pamella leaped from her bed and ran to the sheep pen. Curious, I got up, too and walked outside peering down the hill into the pen. Imp was running in circles all over the pen, bleating desperately. Her lamb was nowhere to be seen. Pamella began screaming that the baby was gone. Everyone got out of bed, threw on their clothes and began hunting for the lamb. At first we thought maybe he had just wiggled out under the fence and wondered off, but as the day wore on and he still could not be found, Dad began to suspect that an animal had carried him off and eaten him. Pamella was distraught. She stood at the top of the road with tears streaming down both cheeks. I watched as mom tried to comfort her, but Pam didn't want to be comforted. I knew how she felt. Dad, Mom and the boys gave up the search and put their efforts into calming Pamella and getting the basics of life, like making breakfast, out of the way. I thought about following them, going back to the cabin and getting on with life. I didn't want breakfast. My stomach was too sick. I slowly began to make my way back down the hill away from the cabin. Maybe if I looked just one more time... I didn't know where I was going. We had searched everywhere. I shut my brain off and let my feet take me where they would. It was as if I was walking in a fog of sadness. My feet led me in a straight line until I came to the fence line that separated our property from that of the neighbors. I turned and followed the fence line. Sadness was overtaking me and my eyes had stopped searching. I was looking only at the ground in front of me. Because of that, I walked very close to the big black dog before I noticed him. As I caught sight of movement, I was startled back to reality and it took me several seconds to comprehend what I was seeing. The dog had arched his back and his black hair was standing straight up. From his throat, he emitted a threatening growl. I froze. Laying on the ground beneath the dog's feet was the missing lamb. The dog continued to threaten me as I stood, terrified, wondering what to do. I knew this dog. He belonged to our little neighbor girl, Julie. He had been friendly with me in the past, but he was out for blood now. After a moments hesitation, I bent down and picked up the thing nearest to me. It was a stick. I threw it at the dog, not knowing what would happen. To my amazement and absolute relief, the dog bounded away towards the neighbor's house. I ran to the lamb. He wouldn't stand up. He held his head down and looked very sick and lethargic, but he was still holding his own head and that meant that there was hope! I grabbed him up and began to hurry up the hill. When I reached the road, I realized that my body was shaking and numb. I had been so scared by the dog. I wanted to sit down with the lamb in my lap and cry, but I wanted even more to bring him home. I knew Pamella was crying for him. I could hear Imp crying for him, too. I held the lamb tighter to my chest and almost ran to the cabin. Pam was still outside, still crying. I carried the baby to her and handed him off. Pam was taken by surprise, but she recovered quickly as she held the baby. "Where did you find him?!?" she asked as she hugged and petted him. Dad and the rest of the family were pouring out of the cabin to welcome the lamb home. My heart swelled with pride as I retold my story. I was so happy that the lamb was safe at home! Dad took the lamb from Pamella to look him over. The lamb had three tooth marks in the top of his head. Dad said the dog had picked him up by the head and carried him off. We were all surprised that the lamb was still alive, considering how long he had been missing and under what circumstances. The lamb was acting very sick. Dad gave him an injection of penicillin to ward off infection and we waited to see if he would survive. By the next day, he was thriving. It was as though nothing had ever happened to him.


I felt guilty for being jealous of Pam. Bad things can and do happen to everyone. I will forever be grateful for the outpouring of love and compassion I felt towards my sister that day. God has a way of teaching us the things we need to learn and, as harsh as it may sometimes be, the end results are priceless.