A Sad day....

Our little lamb has been sick. We put him on a several medications and moved him to my back porch. This afternoon I checked on him and he was trembling and I felt something was going wrong. It’s something you learn being around animals. They cannot talk, but they have a way of communicating.

So, I picked him up and cradled him and gave him attention. He loved that. I took him inside my house and made a bed for him in my living room. I set up a fan to blow on him. I worried he was trembling from a fever. We hung out together for a few hours. Not knowing what else to do I got a cold washcloth and put it on his head – that’s what my mom did to me when I was a sick “kid.”

Later, he got up unexpectedly. I got down in his bedding and put him back down. He was weak. He stopped trembling, which made me nervous. I stroked him and talked to him for a little while. He then gave me a look I have seen many times in my life. He shook a little bit. I picked him up and rubbed his little body hard. I spoke loudly to him to try and shake him out of it.

Little Lambchop stopped breathing. I rubbed his little chest and even gave him little lamb CPR. His heart stopped. I couldn’t revive him.

Having all the animals we do, this kind of thing has played out hundreds of times on our farm over my lifetime. There have been many sad days here – but also many triumphs too. It is a part of the job that holds the highest satisfaction and accomplishment when things turn out and the deepest frustration and a jumble of emotions when things go bad.

Our little rescue baby premature runt of a lamb struck something in all of us. He was here for a short time, but loved by my family, the farm team and many families. You will outlive your animals. There is a mixture of emotions when one dies before it’s time. I hate to see animals in pain and suffering. You want them to be happy and fulfill their purpose on this world – whether it be eventually harvested or solely here to educate and petted by our guests.

I was certain Lambchop was going to be ok, that he was going to pull through – even while I was blowing air in his lungs. It wasn’t meant to be. You will be missed my wooly little friend.

Farmer Casey