It was a dark and stormy day. The goatmother decided it was time for a trim. The fact of the matter is she got a new file and was just dying to try it out. Believe me, pedicures are NOT my favorite activity. According to her, I acted quite abominably. The truth is, my actions were quite stoic.
I was first, of course, no doubt due to my well-deserved reputation for having an *artistic* temperament. The goatmother does not refer to me as 'The Little Linebacker' for nothing. I may be small, but I am most assuredly mighty! The goatfather, unfortunately, was there to help 'convince' me that I actually wanted to get up on that little wooden platform and have my head locked in. There was grain involved, but of course I had to maintain my dignity by doing the Gandhi thing - a hunger strike against treatment of untouchables. And this is EXACTLY what I wanted to be - untouchable. It didn't work. The goatmother and the goatfather simply ignored my proud efforts.
On the up side, I got to watch when it was Ella's turn. However, to my chagrin, she got right up there, put her head in the bucket and proceeded to munch away. She didn't even kick. What's up with that? Is she trying to start a trend? I think it has to be that whole 'supermodel' mentality at work here. She definitely fits into the 'all the bright, shiny people' category. How disgusting.
Now Boo, that was more like it. They had to actually lift all 160 pounds of her onto that stupid little wooden platform. Now there is a goat after my own heart. She has nice ears too. She followed along quite nicely with the whole Gandhi strike thing too. What a goat! But the goatmother and the goatfather have her number, and once the sacred Peanuts emerged, all was lost. Sad. Truly sad.
When the whole ordeal was over, I pouted. I'm not ashamed of it. I pouted! I refused to even accept a Peanut! I maintained my stoicism. Now, if I remember correctly, Zeno, an ancient Greek, was founder of a school of philosophy whose creed was; "A Stoic achieves happiness by submission to destiny." In light of this, I have decided to adjust my thinking somewhat regarding this whole idea of mode de chaussure. Actually I do kind of feel a little spring in my step now. It does seem like I stand a little flatter on my therapy stump. I wonder if maybe next time I could ask for platforms?
Life goes on amidst change. Finding the laughter one day at a time...
3 comments:
Geeze, Marigold....
don't you realize how silly that technique of yours, really is??
Hunger strike??? What are you, nuts?? Listen, dear Marigold.....when it comes to your feet, trust me, the goatmother is going to get you up there on that stanchion, like it, or not!!! And, she'll make the goatfather come help her, so....like why fight city hall?..... why go on a hunger strike to protest???
What you do is jump on the darn platform and guzzle as much grain as you can!! I bet the goatmother can't get all 4 feet done before you are out of grain and, therefor, she'll probably give you even more cause she wants to get that 4th foot done in peace!
So, dear Marigold.....listen to your Alpine friend, Ella!! We Alpines know how things are done!!
Ohhhh Marigold,
I would definitely listen to the Pea, she is ever so wise! I mean really, they are going to get it done one way or another, why not get some benefit out of the situation!
goatmother says:
Yes, listen to the Pea. Please?
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