Field Trip
Do you remember school field trips?
There were permission slips, sack lunches, parent chaperones, bus rides, and all the anticipation of the days before the event. Sometimes there were even projects and assignments ahead of time to prepare for the trip.
I can’t remember more than a handful of the trips I made as a student. I do remember going to the local roller-skating rink for one of them and crashing spectacularly on my one and only attempt at skating backwards. I also remember an especially important one during my sixth-grade year that stuck with me and proved to be formative to much of the work I’m doing now. If you’re a Pemberley Correspondent the themes of slowing down and paying attention to what’s around you that you encounter in those letters have their roots, so to speak, in that sixth-grade field trip.
Well, this week included a field trip. And it was a unique one, in that the farm went to school, rather than the other way around.
Some of you might remember my slight disgruntlement (okay, it was blatant whinging) at the difficulties of acquiring a FAMACHA card. For newer readers, it’s a tool that helps sheep and goat tenders assess the level of anemia in the membranes of the animals’ eyelids to help make decisions about selectively treating certain parasitic infestations. We had a recent run in with severe anemia due to barber pole worm with some of our sheep, so I was eager to get my hands on one of these cards.
It turns out that unlike all sorts of things you’d think The Authorities would keep under lock and key, you cannot simply order one of these cards on the internet. You must go through certification training.
I admit, I spread my whining beyond my keyboard to my local vet, who ethically refused to get me one under the table. However, she happens to share a dining room table with the University Extension Agent for the county. She also happens to have ties to the local 4-H scene. And she’s a kind and helpful person. A few days after my verbal mope, she called and asked if I’d be interested in attending a training session if her husband set one up with the University.
YEEHAW!
About a week before the scheduled session, she asked if we’d be willing to have our sheep be the ones used for the technique demonstration and practice.
FIELD TRIP!
We decided we should pick our friendliest and most manageable sheep. Fitz, Eliza, Betsy, Martin, Frederick, and Lucas were all fitted with collars and led/dragged/tossed onto the trailer to make their way to the school where the training was being held.
They’d only asked for five sheep. I’d put collars on all but Lucas and he was standing there, looking up at me with his big, shiny brown eyes. I swear he was asking me, “Where’s my pretty collar? Don’t I get one?” I muttered something like, “Remember, pal, you asked for this,” and put one on him.
Yes, I talk to the sheep. And yes, I caved to perceived fear of being left out. By a Babydoll wether lamb.
The training was fantastic.
I want to give some kudos to Dr. Kelsey Bentley of Kansas State University’s College of Agriculture. She did a phenomenal job of making parasitology fascinating, relevant, and accessible. She taught us how to do fecal egg counts and use the FAMACHA cards and equipped us to be better stewards of the animals under our care.
And we were so proud of our sheepers! They were such good girls and boys, and we probably looked ridiculously like parents who are convinced theirs are the smartest, cutest, sweetest children on the face of the earth.
I am also completely tickled, as someone who grew up as a Kansas State fan from the age of four, to have had another wonderful experience through that institution. Even more, I think that somehow, the lambs have mystically acquired some sort of official University status now that they have participated in this activity, and they are officially Kansas State University Wildcat Sheep.
We sometimes brought home souvenirs from field trips, didn’t we? They probably need purple gear.
Greg’s Got Questions
Thank you to all who participated in the poll last week!
Last Week’s Winning Question: How and when will we know if the sheep moms’ “personal growth retreats” were successful? I’m eager to know how production is going at our lamb factories.
I gave a few minutes’ thought to doing pregnancy tests on our sheep. After all, we spent a LOT of time and energy during Margaret’s “Is She or Isn’t She” drama last spring. (Turns out She Was Not anything but extremely generously proportioned.)
A few minutes was all it took to look up the procedure for DIY pregnancy tests in sheep. They involve taking blood samples, most typically from the jugular vein.
That’s a hard no, thank you, sir from me. I’m willing to do a lot with these creatures, but intentionally puncturing the jugular vein, assuming I can find the blessed thing, for a non-emergent reason is not one of them.
I will resign myself to staring obsessively at backsides and udders, counting days, and only having certainty about the pregnancy status of our ewes when we see little lambie noses presenting themselves at inconvenient hours of the day and night.
This Week’s Questions:
(As a matter of procedure, the poll function takes you to another page to submit your vote, so if that happens to you, you’re on the right track!)
Question 1: What did you think of the timing of lunch being served just as we were starting to talk about Fecal Egg Counting? Apparently being able to eat and talk about poop at the same time is a necessary skill for livestock producers.
Question 2: What did you learn during our in-person training that you hadn’t already discovered on your own with all your studying on the internet with your research assistant, The Robut?
Question 3: What did you discover about 4H as you observed the kids who were in the training and helping us move The Hooligans around? Did this make you want to go back to your childhood days of skating rink glory and be a part of 4H yourself?
Happy knitting,
Kiersten J
