Goat Couture and a Lamb Dressed to Kill

I suppose I should have picked up on the clue when Kathleen Huff said to me, “I can tell you don’t know much about pigs.”

But no. I said, why sure , Kathleen, I’d love to judge the Barnyard Fashion Parade at the Orange County Fair.

What did I know?

Never mind about the pigs. Let’s talk about the goats. One gnawed my skirt.

And the cows. One dropped her bikini bottom in front of the judge’s table.

And the lambs. The one I gave a first prize to, the one with the soulful eyes, and the ribbons on her ears, and the custom-made Mission Viejo High School cheerleading outfit, she’s meeting her maker on Monday.

All right, Kathleen. You win. A country girl I ain’t.

Oh, and did I mention the surprise under the sawdust? Well, it’s still stuck to the bottom of my shoe.

Not that I’m complaining, you understand. Everybody loves a good county fair. The, uh, aromas. The closeness of the citizenry. The unabashed hucksterism. I tell you, it’s pure Americana.

And this livestock business, it’s supposed to be really good for the kids, right? Teaches them responsibility, nurturing, how to make a buck--all sorts of wholesome American pursuits.

Take Aaron Huseby, for example.

This is a good kid, tall, strapping, 15 years old, with braces on his teeth. He lives in Mission Viejo.

Aaron had already sold Cerveza, his 7-month-old lamb, for $240.40 to Lucky’s supermarkets by the time the Barnyard Fashion Parade got under way Friday.

“I told my mom not to buy lamb chops at Lucky’s for a month,” he says. “Just to be safe.”

Aaron says he’s going to raise a veal calf next. Remind me not to find out its name.

But don’t get the wrong idea. Only a few of the entrants in the parade were slated to be wrapped in plastic any time soon. And at any rate, I found out there are worse indignities.

Like having your bikini bottom slip off if you happen to be a heifer.

(No, not me . I’m pregnant with my second child. Heifers have yet to give birth).

The inadvertent mooning is what happened as Renee Hobson, who belongs to the La Puente Valley Future Farmers of America, was sashaying her charge in front of the judge’s table. The heifer’s falsies, for the record, stayed in place.

But what the heck. We gave her first prize in the Most Outrageous category anyway.

Other choices were a little less clear-cut.

Seeing as how the themes of this year’s fair are strawberries and pigs, my fellow judge, Jill Vukich, was understandably thrown for a loop when yet another Future Farmer approached us wearing a red thing on her head and pulling a rather recalcitrant goat dressed in blue shorts and a red and white gingham shirt.

“Oh, look, she’s a strawberry,” Jill says. “We should put them down for best in the Theme category.”

I, however, figured it out. Raggedy Ann and Raggedy Andy. We gave them second place in the Most Original category.

(Hey, at the Orange County Fair, everybody goes home a winner.)

First prize in the originality category went to Max the rabbit, who belongs to 11-year-old Tanya Harris of Irvine. Max came as Batman.

For Halloween last year, reports Tanya’s mother, Diana Harris, Max made the first of his bizarre contest appearances--this time at South Coast Plaza.

When Max emerged from a replica of the Goodyear blimp, the judges there gave him first prize.

“You know what,” Diana Harris says. “Max loves to come out. We take him everywhere. He rides in the car, and we walk him on a leash.”

Go figure. Guess we judges have a soft spot for spooky rabbits.

The Best Dressed award went to Kelly McKibben’s mother-and-daughter goat team, who were adorned in a fanciful ensemble of red, green and white.

Mama goat, a.k.a. Strawberry Goat Cake, was the one with the bonnet, bloomers and matching dress, and baby goat, alias Baby Cake, chose a more simple flowered tog.

Baby Cake was the one who started eating my skirt. Kelly, a seventh-grader from Irvine dressed in a matching Little Bo Peep outfit, was the one who told me goats are “interesting animals.”

Kelly’s sister, Marci, was also a first place winner, in the Theme category. She and her goat were adorned with strawberry hats, and dresses, and sunglasses.

Now, let’s see. Am I leaving anybody out?

Oh, yeah. The pig! That’s what Kathleen, the one who got me into this mess, let me know at the end of the show.

It seems that Jill and I had forgotten to award a prize to the pig, dressed in a pink tutu and cowboy hat, who had kicked off the show by being driven around the arena.

Mea culpa . But I have an excuse.

Kathleen was right from the start. What do I know about pigs?

I didn’t realize they had feelings too.