Sheep Shit II

Another sheep story...

Marisa, needles & misunderstandings

Our injured lamb that Nate and my mom had so valiantly rescued was not getting any better. We had confined him to a stall, fed him, watered him and tried to get him up a few times a day. Still, no improvement - actually I was pretty sure he was getting worse.  I felt that the situation needed some expert advice - and luckily we have a veterinarian for a father - so of course, I called him up.  

Now I don't know if you know this about me, but I am really really bad about all things veterinary.  I can't take the site of blood.  I can't take an animal's temperature.  One time I even passed out cold after walking in on an animal's autopsy in the back of my dad's hospital.  God forbid if I ever had to do anything to an animal other than pet it and feed it.  It scares the shit out of me - and I absolutely abhor the thought of hurting something or making it uncomfortable (even if it ultimately will help the animal).

While on the phone with my father - he instructs me that our little lamb needs two injections. Immediately I lose it.  What?  I have to give this lamb injections??  No, no, no you don't understand - I cannot possibly do that!  I hate that!!  No no no no I can't I can't I can't.  The fuss I was making apparently scared the crap out of Nate as well.  It must be something very serious indeed for me to be crying and having such a fit.  

As instructed I went into the other stall, found two "clean" needles and the two vials of liquid medicine I was to inject.  My skin was crawling - hair standing on end.  I don't know how I was going to do this.  Really.  Yuck.  The disgust I felt was similar to staring into a tub of creepy crawly worms and insects and having to put your face and hands straight in.  Not pleasant - at all.

Nate headed into the stall where our injured lamb lay - and prepared to hold him down.  He had no idea as to what was going on except that I was very upset and protesting wildly on the phone.

I entered the stall, needles and vials in tote, put the phone on speaker so my dad could talk me through it and prepared to do something I have never in my life imagined I would be caught dead doing.  It was terrifying.  As my father talked me thorough preparing the needles, Nate bravely grabbed the sheep and held his head.  They both looked very apprehensive and just a little less terrified than I.  I took the skin on the lamb's neck and lifted it up.  It was much more taut than I thought it would be.  I prepared to stick the needle in.  Still protesting wildly to my father - I looked up at Nate and saw the fear on his face - oh jesus - here we go.  As the needle entered the skin, I felt a slight pop and then the flesh felt a little softer and I was pretty sure at that point that I was in the right spot.  I pushed the plunger - and SHIT - it would NOT move!  Crying I try to explain that it was impossible to get the plunger to move!  What the hell was happening?  Daddy!  Why won't it move?  Oh, I have to pull it back a little.  As I did that, the plunger released at the same time the syringe fell off the needle!  DAMN IT!  I've got a detached needle in the neck of this lamb - a syringe that is squirting god knows what all over the place and a hysterical woman (me) trying to put it all back together again.  

At the time, poor Nate, little known to me, believes that the injection I am giving is going to euthanize this lamb.  Because, why wouldn't he?  Put together the condition of the lamb, my abject hysteria, and the general tone in my father's voice - of course this must be the end for this little guy!  Right?

I pull the needle out.  Put it back together with the syringe and jab into his neck again.  Here we go.  Ok.  I think I can do this.  Liquid releases into his neck and now it's time for the second injection, which goes a little more smoothly and then it was over.  And I began recovering from the experience.  

I'm not sure when Nate realized that the injection was not going to end this lamb's life - but hopefully help him with the neurological disorder he was suffering.  But the experience was so traumatic for both us for different reasons that we pretty much wanted to collapse at the end of it.  

As a end note, unfortunately the lamb's condition was never to improve and he was put down several days later.  Not by me, thankfully.

posted by Marisa