G and I had talked about it several times and were in agreement that this was not the year for us to get goats. After all, in the past twelve months we had collected twelve chickens. We both thought we should wait on the goats.
But evidently livestock can be habit-forming, and my husband just couldn't resist a Craiglist listing for three free goats.
Last Tuesday evening my husband texted me that he was going to be home late. It isn't unusual for him to work late so I didn't think anything of it, and went ahead and got supper ready and started to feed the boys. G got home while we were eating and sat down to supper, promising he'd make up for his tardiness later. I began to get suspicious.
"You didn't get any G-O-A-T-S did you?!?!" I asked him, remember he had taken the trailer with him.
"What you talking about?" my three-year-old (GD) exclaimed in his usual nosy fashion whenever we spell something.
"Hmmm....I don't know what you're talking about." my husband answered.
I didn't know whether to be angry that he got them behind my back or excited for the joy my two boys were about to experience. I decided to be optimistic and go with excitement.
After supper G took us all out to the trailer where he had a load of hay and three goats in a large wooden box he had built without me knowing. He then took us out behind the shop to set up a pen (made out of hog fence he had tried to convince a few days before was for my snap peas to grow on) and to wheel a goat hut (another structure he had built without me knowing) out to the field. He fastened the fence together with zip ties and propped it up against the hut (not the best idea as we would soon find out). The whole time GD was eagerly planning out every detail of the goats' lives. Farmer, Tractor, and Pig were the names he had chosen for them and they already were the most treasured livestock in the history of domesticated animals.
Then we went back to the trailer to introduce our caprine friends to their new home.
The toddler (GE) took one look at them and burst into screaming tears. The poor kid was terrified.
While I consoled him, my husband and GD tried unsuccessfully to get the goats out of their box.
They would not budge. Finally I passed the trembling toddler over to my husband to see if they would come out for me.
Apparently I am some sort of goat whisperer, because Farmer came right out and I started to lead her out to the pen on her leash.
My husband was trying to encourage the other two to venture out when all of the sudden one bolted out of the box and down our driveway.
Have you ever seen a goat run? Lesson #1 we learned about goats, they are FAST. My husband handed me the crying toddler and sprinted after him, trying to catch up.
With the help of my three-year-old and my keen goat-herding abilities, I led Farmer and Tractor, the two female goats back to their pen with GE clinging to me while Pig, the male goat, led my husband on a wild chase literally all over the neighborhood. The boys and I put the two goats in the pen and shut the gate, feeling rather proud of ourselves.
But that feeling didn't last.
Within seconds, the goats found a blatant weakness in the fence and went the way of their wayward brother. GD took of after one screaming, "Get back here you goat!" and I grabbed the leash of the other only to be pulled around the yard, screaming toddler still in tow.
The goats brought us back out to the front of the house to see my husband still frantically chasing after the male goat through the neighbors' yards. One neighbor lady came out for the show and then joined in on the fun, trying to coax the goat out of a barn. My three-year-old was still running circles around the house screaming after Tractor. I stood trying desperately to hold on to a goat leash with the toddler on my hip, tears shooting from his eyes. As I watched G begin a slow defeated walk back up the driveway, GD continued to run, now slightly faltering and out of breath, after Tractor. And then my goat relieved himself all over the patio.
It was at that moment I decided to no longer be optimistic. I dropped the leash and put GE down in his favorite wagon. And we just walked away from the madness. We walked away and didn't look back, despite the battle cries of a three-year-old reverberating off the house and three goats running wild.
Once the toddler had been soothed we returned home where things were also a bit calmer. My husband and son were finishing up getting the goats back in the box on the trailer. We were still missing one goat but GD stated, "That's ok, we still have two. And if that goat comes back, his is not Pig anymore it's Silly! Because that goat is silly!"
We went in for the night, GD still excitedly talking about his new animals but my husband and I afraid to mention the word "goat" to each other.
The next morning I woke up to my husband building a more secure enclosure and Pig, who is now Silly, sitting on top of the goat hut, having returned home to his friends.
But I'm still not convinced we should keep them.
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