Goats Just Want To Have Fun

This is too much. Really. The goatmother has, heretofore, been unhappy with my efforts to guide her in the acquisition of Caprine mode de dance. She has no rhythm; I swear on a stack of alfalfa bales this is true! It is just embarrassing.

So lately I have changed my tack. I have begun placing my forelegs on her shoulders, just as I have seen any number of famous two-legged dancers do. Fred Astaire. Gene Kelley. Patrick Swayze. (Well, okay, that last one is for 'dirty dancing'...but goats have dirt - lots of dirt! The whole barn floor is dirt!). Anyway, I have been using 'Peanut' time to practice and break the goatmother 'in'. However, I must concede that it doesn't seem to be working. She keeps getting upset and talking about 'bruises', and, 'What's wrong with you all of a sudden?', and, 'Marigold! Will you get down!'. I simply throw in the towel. That's it! I quit. No more! I'm getting a new partner and that's all there is to it! I know he's supposed to be a singer, but he was voted 'out'. Do you think Sanjaya might be interested in a change of pace? A little 'hoofing the light fantastic'? A little joie de vivre a la chèvre?

Ay, Yi, Yi, Yi, Yi, Lucy!!!

Holy Moly Moses! Are we going to have to call up a Congressional hearing on the capraconstitutionality of this device??? It is a 'bug'...in our barn!!! This is the doing of the sinister bald, or white-faced hornet! No doubt an extension of the CIA. You can find out more about their covert operations here.

Now, mind you, this one was in it's infancy. We caught it in time. We 'nipped it in the bud', so to speak! Of course you are probably thinking, 'what's the big deal?' But did you notice that part in the link above that said, "extremely protective of their nests and will sting repeatedly if disturbed."? And, did you notice the other part that said, "large gray football-shaped paper nest"? Huh? That little thing in the picture was just the tip of the iceberg! That was a mere one-day's worth of work! (These guys are no doubt 'Union') Not on my watch, Friday!!!! Ain't gonna' be no Titanic incident here. I can tell you, goats won't take that sort of thing lying down...or standing up...or running...or munching Peanuts...or any way! That would be a big NO WAY!!! This is an 'invasion of privacy' to the 'N'th degree! This is the Patriot Act in action and, believe you me, we're NOT going there! Mr. Cherthoff, may I have a word with you???

What?! Who, Me????

I wouldn't want to name any names, but someone (who is pictured here) is in trouble, with a capital 'T'! I must say, I am delighted!!!!!! [snicker] It couldn't happen to a nicer goat. [smile ... smirk...]

So what happened to garner her this favor? Weeeeeeell, it seems a certain someone decided to butt the Mighty Quinn. Now mind you, at least this time, the Mighty Quinn did not deserve it. (The exception to the rule, to be sure). But, on this occasion, he had merely placed his head through one of the squares in the gate between the inner sanctum and the goat quarters to see what all the fuss was about. Boo stoically allowed him his surveillance, but someone decided this was an out-and-out invasion of privacy. Clearly someone has taken their role in Homegoat Security enforcement far too seriously. So, now, someone, is in BIG trouble. [giggle ... snort!]

'Lost' - Season Finale (I hope)

Oy Vay. Will this never end? We have been graced, yet again. I believe this raccoon forgot to read that part of the description that says 'mostly nocturnal'. Mid-afternoon, and Mr. 'bright-eyes-and-bushy-tail' decides to take up residence in the Bitter Cherry tree just off the yard. Let's just say all the lights don't shine in his barn. But the pièce de resistance lay in the fact that this wasn't merely one discombobulated soul. No indeed. Though the goatfather only got one in the photo, there were, surprisingly, two of these spurious nomads of the night. It seems they also missed that part in the literature that read 'solitary'.

And when I say, 'took up residence', that is exactly what I mean. As in 'refused to move'! No amount of cajoling, banging of loud metallic surfaces, or even Peanuts (unbelievable though this may seem) could convince this pair they hadn't just checked into the Las Vegas Hilton. The goatfather pondered this dilemma in true philosophical style. (I graciously offered him the use of my stump, but he declined ).

The raccoons could not be allowed to remain where they were. First of all, it was daylight and there was just something disconcerting about this. Second, raccoons have been known, on occasion, to become quite fierce and no one, most especially we goats, considered this to be acceptable. So a brilliant idea came to the goatfather. Bravely he approached the tree, weapon in hand. One shot from the water hose set on 'jet stream' and Paris and Nicky were off for Maui. I certainly hope they don't get lost again. They could end up on the other side of the yard in the Goat Hilton. Oy vay.

The Few, The Proud, The Confused

What's this? This is but one in the never-ending chain of confused creatures that seem to frequent our residence. This is a Canadian goose. Now I willingly admit that, from the air, the front deck of the house might be mistaken for a body of water. It is sort of blue. But really. It doesn't look that much like water, does it? I mean, you could tell the difference, couldn't you?


Now at the same time the first goose was down on the deck trying to tread water, this second goose was on the roof honking for all it was worth. There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that this was the female goose and the one on the deck was the male. You are, no doubt, wondering how it is I could make such a distinction in light of the fact that I am a goat and not fluent in any form of goose dialect. Elementary, my dear Watson! For one, the goose on the roof was the one doing all the talking. It stands to reason that this would be the female since it is a well known fact that the female of any species has an often misunderstood inclination toward verbosity. That is not to say that this is a bad thing. Witness myself. Superb eloquence in action.

But this reasoning aside, the fact is that the goose on the roof was undoubtedly attempting to convince the one on the deck this was decidedly not the pond across the highway. Which leads me to the second reason I was able to determine the sex of the goose on the deck. Doesn't everyone know that males never, but never, ask for directions? And that, my dear Watson, is most assuredly THAT!

Fashion Is As Fashion Does

Just a note to let you know that it was again time for my monthly pedicure. In light of my new 'take' on the matter, I went with Zeno and didn't fight destiny...exactly... I put my head right in this time. Of course the rest of me hasn't quite decided to follow Zeno and so it stayed on the ground. That would have been okay except it was getting a little hard to breathe. Finally the goatfather helped the errant parts up onto the stand and the rest went quite well, if I do say so myself...until...the goatmother decided she might as well take advantage of the situation and use the comb. I do not like the comb. I do not like the brush. In fact, I just don't like anything that might interfere with my coiffure.

You see, I have my own style. It is an expression of who I am. The goatmother does not understand the artistic temperament. Little bits of shedding undercoat poking out here and there are chic. They are avant garde. They are a STATEMENT! These aren't just bits of shedding undercoat. For Goat's Sake! This is Cashmere!!!! How elegant is that? And, you would take this away from me?

Well, she thinks she can save it up and when that fainting goat gets here, he'll have some too. Spinning yarn is the 'in' thing to do right now. In the meantime, she keeps telling me I 'look' so much better. But you know, I'm going with Jack Kerouac on this. Now there was a true philosopher - a man after my own heart. I bet he had a stump too. Jack said, “Great things are not accomplished by those who yield to trends and fads and popular opinion.” Right On!, Jack! So leave my hair alone!

A Commentary on the Cinema

Have you ever noticed that there are NO movies about goats? What's up with that? I have been standing on my stump thinking about this, and I have been unable to come up with a single movie involving goats. Of course there are a few with the word 'Goat' in the title, but are they really about goats? The answer to that question would be 'No'. This is abominable! This is flat out discrimination. What are goats supposed to do for entertainment anyway? Just stand around and eat all day? Absurd! We have intellectual needs!

There is one movie, however, that has a goat in it. Gordon the Goat, in fact. Never mind the fact that Gordon thinks he is a smelly old dog - he is still a goat! This movie is 'Sir Billi the Vet' (my favorite movie), and you can find out a little more about it here.

Now this is an outstanding tale, even if it does involve saving a beaver. At least it isn't a mountain beaver. But the best part? Well, Sir Billi is none other than Sir Sean Connery, the Scottish actor. For someone with only two legs he's quite a comely old goat, don't you think? I mean he can chew the alfalfa with me anytime. I'd share my Peanuts with that guy. He even has a beard! No horns, mind you, but a beard to be sure! (swoon...)

I suppose with my superior mind, I could, perhaps, come up with a winning idea for a movie about goats. I wonder if I could interest Mr. Connery in a part? Maybe something like County Extension Agent, Capra Bond, 007 1/2. Michty Me! "Whit are ye mollachin aboot, Marigold?" Get out there on tha' stump and be t' practicin' rollin' y' R's!