Cute

Life is all about being cute. Take, for example, my nephew Peanut. Adorable, right? People look at Peanut, their mouths automatically fall open and 'Awwwwwwwww' comes out. Of course he plays it to the hilt. What can I say? It works.

Being cute can get you a lot of things in this life. For instance, Peanuts. Animal cookies. Grain. Hay. More Peanuts. Attention. More Peanuts. Petting. More Peanuts. Oy. Why couldn't I have been born cute instead of just plain lovely and wise? Let's face it, cute is where it's at.

I can think of a lot of advantages to being cute. For example, you could become a Japanese toy icon like 'Hello, Goaty'. Your face could be passed all over the Internet accompanying inspirational thoughts. You could become the official spokesperson for Peanut Eaters Anonymous. You could be invited to appear in television commercials as living testimony to the awesome nutritional qualities to be found in animal cookies. The possibilities are endless.

On the other hand, there is a down side. If you are cute, there is always someone trying to be just a little bit cuter.

As a philosopher, I can only maintain that cuteness, as beauty, is simply a matter of degree. Everyone is cute. And as a goat, I can only subscribe to the theory set forth by Miss Piggy who said, "Beauty (or in this case cuteness) is in the eye of the beholder and it may be necessary from time to time to give a stupid or misinformed beholder a black eye."

A Wolf In Sheep's Clothing?

Oh, my goat!!!!! WHAT IS THAT THING?!!!! Is it a sheep? Ahhhhh! It's HUGE! Oy. No. It's only a dog. But what a dog! That thing makes the Spruce Goose look like a Cracker-Jack toy! Talk about your Colossus of Rhodes! I think it's even bigger than the Sta-Puft Marshmallow Man! Oy. Where did that thing come from and what the hay is it doing here?

The good news is that Watson didn't faint when it appeared. What fortitude the little man exhibits sometimes. I, for one, thought it was pretty alarming. Ella, of course, being ever-curious-to-the-point-of-stupidity, ran right up to the fence to see what it was. How obtuse can you be?

To be sure, its size isn't the only worrisome problem. As you might note from the above photo, it eats grass. I'm sorry, but the grass belongs to the goats, Fuzzy-Head. What is more, it entered the barn with the goatmother and proceeded to consume Sacred goat Peanuts when offered. BACK OFF, PUFF-BUTT!!!!! We have got to draw the line somewhere. Is this thing going to become a permanent fixture around here?

Well, come to find out, that thing is a standard Poodle and the goatmother and the goatfather are 'dog-sitting' for the neighbors. I guess we are going to have to put up with 'it' for awhile longer. Fortunately, as they say about most objectionable intrusions in life, "And this too, shall pass!" I hope. Just as long as 'it' doesn't have a taste for chevon along with everything else it seems willing to eat. Are we there yet? Oy. It's gonna' be a loooong week. Oh, I forgoat. Happy Thanksgiving! May you be thankful for the many blessings you have (like no colossal kinky-coated canines) and may your Peanut jar always be full!

The Baad House

Hi! Ella here! Yes, I managed, finally to get a word in edgewise here. The truth is that Marigold is somewhat indisposed. Forgive me if I smirk, but Marigold is actually in the 'dog house', a/k/a the 'Baad House', if you please. You see this morning Marigold took it into her head to butt Mr. Peanut. There were no Peanuts (of the plant variety) involved either - not any food for that matter. However, this was not just an ordinary push. No, indeed. Marigold actually knocked the poor little fellow off his feet. Now had that been Watson, it would not have been particularly noteworthy. Can you say, 'Watson's wobble but they always fall down'? But if you have ever noticed, Peanut, though small, is built like a mini-tank. In fact, I deem him sort of the 'Dick Buttttkus' of Nigerians. It takes quite a lot to set that little man off his feet. And so, (giggle) Marigold is in BIG trouble with the goatmother. Couldn't happen to a nicer know-it-all, if you ask me. Psychic goat indeed! Wonder if she saw this coming?

Who Ya' Gonna' Call?

Oy. The power went out again today. Mind you it wasn't out very long, but when it went out I could hear the goatmother yelling, 'Oh, No! Not again!', all that way out to the barn. It was only a little breezy. It wasn't even a major breeze.

The first thing that occurred to the goatmother was that Boo had somehow managed to get out and bribe the power company. You see, today had been deemed monthly hoof trimming day. In light of that, I can well understand how the goatmother might have come to that conclusion. However, it pains me to say, at least this time, Boo was not responsible.

The thing is, here I am the world's first psychic goat and no one bothered to inquire as to whether or not I knew what the problem was. If they had only asked (and perhaps offered a Peanut for my efforts) I would have told them that it was merely the power company working on the lines. I knew. But no...no one has faith in the humble but exceedingly beautiful psychic mini-Nubian.

Perhaps I need to advertise. You know, magazines like Cosmo, GQ, Vogue and 'O', that one that Oprah puts out - all those magazines frequently read by goats in the know. Maybe Martha Stewart. Or maybe I should just consult the Woolly Boogers. Everyone believes the Woolly Boogers. It is difficult to understand, however. They're just worms, for goats' sake! No, indeed, people just have some misbegoatten ideas when it comes to who is to be believed. You think not? I ask you, consider for one moment the state of our political realm. 'Nuf said. Psychic goat, over and out.

What's In Your Future?

Have you ever noticed that you've never seen a Psychic Friends Network for goats? Why IS that? I can think of quite a few instances where this sort of thing could come in quite handy. For example, it might be useful to know just exactly where that missed Peanut fell into the hay so it doesn't have to be sacrificed to some undeserving mouse. Or, it might be nice to know just exactly when the goatmother is going to decide to get up and get out to the barn to distribute Peanuts or hay, and one might have time to get their taste buds primed and knock any would-be usurpers out of the way. Or it might serve to help solve the occasional odd mystery that occurs around here. To be sure, it might prove beyond useful to some poor soul like Watson. I mean if he had known ahead of time the neighbor was going to come up the drive astride that raucous John Deere, it might have spared him the full faint that sent him with all four feet straight out rolling down the hill. Useful. Yes. A very useful skill.

So, I have decided to become the very first psychic goat in a modest effort to fill the gap. What can I say? I'm very civic-minded. Plus, I am not without talent. Being adept at philosophizing sort of predisposes one to perceive the true nature of things. And, really, that is all that is necessary - a sharp, observant mind and a faith in one's own perceptions and feelings. I believe that is me in a Peanut shell!

Of course I expect to encounter 'disbelievers'. Take Boo for example. She is a Nubian and believes only in scientific fact. Unfortunately, her idea of scientific fact runs somewhere along the lines of 'food in = food out'. Oy. To Boo, a dropped Peanut represents no problem because she believes that there will ultimately be another to take its place. Psychically speaking, however, I know that supply will be sporadic and there will NEVER be enough. After all, I am not only psychic, I am a realist (not to mention a connoisseur).

In retrospect, I should have decided to start this yesterday. We just came out of a severe storm with some places near us reaching winds from 40 to over 90 miles per hour! The goatfather's little station at 'the big house', measured 46 mph and electricity was out all the way to the coast for nearly 12 hours. This made it REALLY difficult to pick out the good pieces of hay because it was dark in the barn. It made it even more difficult to grab the Peanuts without dropping them when they were passed out. Plus, with no electricity, the pump wasn't running and there was no water - not to mention the lack of 'facilities' ( for which the goatmother could not lay blame, this time, on her aunt). If I had been with the program a little sooner, I could have tuned in and seen this coming, or at the very least paid a little more attention to those last valiant Woolly Boogers I saw running for cover. At any rate, I am resolute now. Do you suppose 1-800-MARGOLD is already taken? Ah, yes! I sense that it should still be available!

By the way, if you haven't yet entered your location in the poll, please be sure to do so! Oh, yeeeessss... I am feeling there are more of you out there...

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The Poll

What can I say? Inquiring minds want to know! After reading a recent comment from a reader, it occurred to me that I have a new goal in life. No, it is not the acquisition of all the Peanuts in the Universe, although, I have to admit this would be most interesting. No, my new goal is to have a reader in every state of the U.S. and as many countries as possible. Now that is an honorable, if not formidable goal, don't you think? So, in order to achieve success, it also occurred to me that I needed to know where the readers I already have are located. Now, if you look to the left of the page, you will see that a poll has been created. I know. In this age of campaigns, elections and Gallup polls, who wants to see another one? But, I assure you, this one is important! After all, I see myself as a purveyor of truth. And everyone knows, "The truth can be spoken only by one who rests in it." - Ludwig Wittgenstein.

So, participate, please! You have until December 6!