I guess one should always be prepared because you just never know. Take for example this morning. This morning the goatmother came out and did all her goatly chores - like passing out Peanuts. Things were all quite normal. The goatmother, the Mighty Quinn and Cabra went back into the house. The goatmother had just gotten out of the shower when Cabra began to go crazy, running hither and yon barking wildly. Okay, well, Cabra does lean toward being the alarmist, so the goatmother glanced out the window and saw some yellow pass by. That was her first mistake since she didn't have her glasses on at the time. The goatmother just shrugged and thought, 'Oh, it's just the neighbor kid.'
Now the neighbor kid is a Golden Retriever who regularly comes up for his daily 'poop and pat' - so named because that is what he does. He finds someplace to poop and then he wanders about and comes to the goatmother to get a pat on the head. I don't really understand how that works since the goatmother never pats me for pooping, but maybe it has something to do with being a dog. I can't be sure.
Anyway, back to my story... The goatmother ignored Cabra, telling her it was just the neighbor kid, and that was her second mistake. She should have paid more attention. Just then the phone rang and it was the neighbor - the very one with whom the neighbor kid lives. It seems there had been an extremely large yellow dog, with no collar, barking at their house. The neighbor went out and the dog would not come to her. Instead he growled. So the neighbor was warning the goatmother and the goatfather to be on the lookout, and not to let the Mighty Quinn or Cabra out unsupervised. 'Hmmm,' thought the goatmother. 'I guess I should have put my glasses on.' Yes, goatmother. You should have. And what's with that neighbor, anyway? What about the goats? Doesn't anyone care about the GOATS?
Now the other disturbing thing about today was that no weather station anywhere said it was going to rain. So, guess what? It rained. You see we were all standing out in the pasture by the tire. This is our most favorite place to stand and the goatmother calls it the 'Buffalo Wallow'. That makes absolutely no sense because none of us looks anything like a Buffalo, but then I suppose one could feasibly mistake Boo for a Buffalo - if they didn't have their glasses on. Oy.
Anyway, there we all were, just minding our own business, when suddenly said huge yellow dog appeared out of nowhere near the barn. Ella snorted. ( I know. It isn't very lady-like, not to mention undignified, but there you have it. It gets the job done.) Everyone came to immediate attention, including the goatmother who had, by that time, arrived at the back door. The goatfather came out and managed to scare the dog away - somewhat, but by then we were all so concerned we were too afraid to go to the barn. Which is why it was so disturbing that it was raining when it wasn't supposed to be raining. That meant we were all standing in the pouring rain. Anyone that knows anything, knows that goats DO NOT like rain. As a matter of fact, we will go to great lengths to avoid getting wet, and will do almost anything to that end. Anything, that is, except move when a suspected predator attack is in the offing. Oh, no. Not a hair moves in that case. Not even two hairs.
But back to the dog... The goatmother redeemed herself in the end. She donned her raincoat and, staff in hand, came out and escorted us all to the barn. Whew! Plus we got more hay in the bargain. Mind you I could not bring myself to concentrate fully on consuming it seeing as how it was necessary to keep running back and forth checking to see if the menace had returned. Oh, well. That kind of thing helps to maintain my svelte figure (despite recent rumors that I follow the philosophy of SUMO. Harummpf.).
In retrospect, I feel quite sure we could have handled our situation more competently had we had enough time to consider it fully first. After all, it has been said, "The world is full of abundance and opportunity, but far too many people come to the fountain of life with a sieve instead of a tank car...a teaspoon instead of a steam shovel. They expect little and as a result they get little." - Ben Sweetland. With that in mind, let it be hereby noted that I expect quite a lot and should the situation of the big yellow dog arise again, we are coming to the fountain with that tank car. Yes, indeed. Should it happen again we are shoving Boo to the FRONT!