"If providence did beards devise,
To prove the wearers of them wise,
A fulsome goat would then, by nature,
Excel each other human creature." - Thomas D'Urfey

Wednesday, October 9, 2013

The Truth Is Out There

I'm baaa-aaack!  Just like Poltergeist.  Only with more legs.  And airplane ears.  Anyway, I don't expect anyone to still be out there, but I'm here anyway.  What the hay.  The muse went on an extended vacation and just got back.  Don't ask ...

So, I'm gonna' jump right back in here just like I never left.  'Cuz really I didn't.  It's just that you weren't privy to my thoughts ... or my Peanuts.  I'm just sayin' ...

Okay, so you know how there is this urban legend out there that says that goats eat anything?  We all know that isn't true, right?  Well, all I can say is that we've had to change our thinking a bit on this one.  And it didn't even involve the Internet.  Who knew? 

You see, it's like this.  We live with an Alpine.  That really ought to be explanation enough, but in case you don't have a clue just exactly what this means, here it is in a nutshell.  Alpines are trouble.  T-R-O-U-B-L-E.

Now then, the Goatmother (remember her?) was out raking our lot in preparation for the laying down of wood shavings to combat the mud which always seems to arrive at the same time as the rain. (Why is that?  Oh, yes.  Overweight Nubian.  Did I really just say that?)  Anyway, the Goatmother was laboriously raking away as we enjoyed a meager snack of luscious hay on the other side of the pen.  Well, really it was more akin to bribery than a luscious snack since it's the only way she can convince *some* of us to leave the sanctity of the barn.  But back to the story ... the Goatmother was raking and stopped to pick up some of the refuse and cart it away.  (Manual labor is highly over-rated.  This is why I don't do it.  Ever. ) 

Paying no attention (as the Goatmother is want to do), she leaned her rake up against the fence and leaned over.  She straightened back up just in time to see Ella reach over the fence and rip off a twelve inch piece of the rubber cushion  (for your non-callous-making raking pleasure) surrounding the handle of the rake.  The Goatmother dropped everything, ran through the gate and went rushing up to Ella yelling, "No!!!!  You STUPID goat!!!!", at the top of her lungs.  Suffice it to say that even though the neighbors don't live all that close, THEY now know how stupid Ella is.  WE already knew that.

Anyway, we all looked up in alarm.  I can tell you, here and now,  that Ella knew right away what she had done was NOT the thing to do.  She took one look at the advancing onslaught of Goatmotherdom and promptly dashed the other way, all the while gobbling down the pilfered piece of pliability just as fast as possible.  The Goatmother had thought to catch the end and pull it back out.  No such luck.  Not even close.  The speed of light has nothing on a determined Alpine in pursuit of gustatorial satisfaction.

"Oyyyyyyyy!!!!!!!!!", and "Arrrrgghhhhh!", cried the Goatmother. (And a few other terms which shall, heretofore, go unmentioned.)  So the Goatmother ran as fast as those pudgy little legs could carry her, straight to the Internet and contacted a couple of her goat raising friends.  Had they ever had experience with a goat eating something thought to be inedible?  Could said inedible delicacy actually be broken down in at least ONE of the stomachs?  Would Ella be vomiting or exuding green goat berries????  Not one of the Goatmother's capable goat-rearing friends had EVER had a goat eat something they shouldn't.  I feel it is important to interject a note of reason here in pointing out the fact that, indeed, none of these people actually owned an Alpine.    Had they ever had the pleasure, information might have been more forthcoming  As it was, the Goatmother was left to stew ... and watch.

Well, that was a couple of days ago.  Ella is still alive.  Doesn't surprise me, since it is the innocent and the good that die young.  Alpines are safe, if you ask me.  Let it be known, though, that not all urban legends are myths.  Sometimes there just could be a grain (or a Peanut) of truth there.  You just never really know ...

"The truth is out there.  Trust no one." - The X-Files
 (Especially if they happen to be Alpine.)

23 comments:

Terry said...

While I was standing on a metal step ladder in the goat's stall, Pip peeled off the plastic label off of it and ate it. It is harder to get quickly off of a ladder than run after an Alpine (although I might have used some of the same words as the Goatmother.) Don't even ask why I thought that I could use a ladder and leave the goats in the stall. The Goatmother should be yelling at me! In any event, Pip is fine.

Marigold said...

Whew! At least ONE person is still out there!!!! :) I have to tell you, though. I'm not sure it is easier to dismount a ladder than to run after an Alpine. No. 1, because we ARE talking about the Goatmother here, whose middle name is NOT grace. And No. 2, have you seen the legs on those Alpines? Oy. I think it would take Wilma Rudolph. (Did I just date myself? :))

christinalfrutiger said...

Oh my goatness, Marigold...we had all thought you'd been so busy in peanut land over there, that you'd completely decided that that was way more fun, (which eating peanuts really is)than gracing us with your intellectual ponderings, which we have really missed! And, oh my goatness, talk about run on sentences, which btw, is totally unlike me!
We, being Nigerian Dwarf goats do not know anything about eating foreign objects, like you, we are way too intelligent for that kind of behavior...I mean, if there are peanuts, grass hay and grain in the world, who needs rubber and plastic?? Yuk!
Sincerely,
Queen Quattra
PS. Welcome back!

Marigold said...

Dear Queen Quattra,
Well, hay, eating Peanuts is waaaay more fun. Still when that stupid muse, Caprinope, finally got back off vacation, the words simply must fly. I think it is a rule or something.

Goat Girls Rule! said...

Well yes, we do have some experience of this -- Snapdragon (an Alpine-Nigerian cross with a dash of Nubian ancestry -- the last of which appears to have settled in the space normally reserved for a brain), ate the rubber linings on some high up brackets -- ate them all. There were six of them. Big fat juicy, bright red and yellow, nice and rubbery. The Barn Mistress only realized when Snappy was finishing up the last one. Apart from offending Snappy's delicate feelings with some coarse language, all was well.

Snowcatcher said...

Welcome back! We, too, have missed you and have wondered what you were eating and thinking the last few months.

That silly Ella. I might have liked to see the goat berries that little incident might have produced, though...

Marigold said...

Alpine-Nigerian cross with a dash of Nubian? That means she had the penchant to eat the rubber, the speed to escape and the memory (or lack thereof) to remember that she did it in the first place, which is why she had to eat them all. :)

Marigold said...

Dear SnowCatcher,
Either it was completely disintegrated in the iron Alpine stomach, or it is still in there somewhere. No bright green berries have been spotted...yet.

Millie said...

Oh my. I can't believe that Goatmother chasing Ella and yelling. That's just too much stimuli for an Alpine brain. Glad that Ella has dropped dead yet. Truth be told, the bucks here like to eat the old siding on the garage. It seems to just be a bit more fiber in their diet. I'm not willing to try it though. I'll stick with my hay.

Marigold said...

Dear Millie,
Clearly you are NOT an Alpine, which, in my humble opinion, is a VERY good thing. :) As for bucks, they don't have a lot going on in the brains department anyway. Can you imagine and Alpine buck? Oy. Or what about a Nubian buck? Double Oy.

Mrs. Micawber said...

And so another myth remains unbusted.

So nice to have you back!

P.S. Whenever those bright green goatberries DO show up, put them in a box and mail them straight to Snowcatcher. She can dye some yarn with them. :)

Faith said...

I always thought Ella had good taste...she liked cheese Doritos right? Maybe she has a little beagle in her, Chester has been known to eat some very odd things...even playdoh once, a whole pot of it.

Lovely to hear from you Marigold....glad things are good in your neck of the woods!

Marigold said...

Dear Mrs. Micawber,
Hmmm...unbusted. Very rare for an Alpine. Usually they are busting everything in site. As for your suggestion ... Ewwwwwwwwwww! And Ewwwwwww! :)

Marigold said...

Hay, Faith!
No, I'm afraid it was Peanut (the goat and not the nut) that has Dorito lust. Actually I believe Alpines are maybe part Alien. No, wait. That would be the LaManchas. Oh, well. Whatever they are part, it is definitely weird. And stupid. (I must make a disclaimer here that mini-Alpines are exempt from this category. Otherwise my friends over at Goat Girls Rule will be having words with me!) :)

Staples C said...

Even muses need vacations, but we're very pleased that you haven't disappeared completely!

Marigold said...

Dear Staples,
I'm glad I'm still out there too. :) But, sheesh, with all these changes to Google and Blogger and Yahoo, etc. etc. etc. who knows!

Lisa said...

My goats will only eat apples cut in slices and the shingles off their barn. Very discerning beasts. (So happy you're back!)

Marigold said...

Dear Lisa,
Oh, my goodness. Ella read your post. NOW she is planning to try the shingles. If she can get up there. Oy.

goatfarmer said...

plastic grocery bags went through fine. washcloth went through fine. sock went through fine. cardboard of course, it is a vegetable. can't think of anything else right off.

Marigold said...

Dear GoatFarmer,
Ah. The voice of experience. Just FYI,Ella is still alive (fact of which I am not all that fond) and no strangely colored goat berries were ever even observed. I guess we should hope that the rake handle isn't just floating about there in the dark somewhere. Oy. I much prefer Peanuts myself.

goatsandhounds said...

Sweetie and I are smokers (trying to quit as I type this). And we smoke outside. We have a butt can. One day, not thinking much of it, the goats were let out of the pen and allowed to run the yard. We heard the pitter-patter of hooves on the porch. Again, didn't think much of it. Then, I heard the distinct sound of metal on wood. Sure enough, Ray ate quite a large number of cigarette butts. He survived with absolutely no ill effect, but seems to have developed a nicotine habit. Whenever he is let out, he runs straight to the place where the butt can was sitting. Oy.

Marigold said...

Dear Goats and Hounds,
Oy is right. Not to mention yuk. But I like Oy better. :)

Ginnie said...

Hi, Marigold - I've been absent from the blogworld too long. And see that you must be busy with other things, too! I hope you have a lovely Christmas, and all the best to Goatmother. xxoo