Pod Puppy

Agent Marigold Scully here. It was recently posited to us by my most astute former goatfarmer, that we should be alert to the possibility that Cabra was body-snatched by an alien presence. Naturally, Watson Mulder and myself were on it like goats on a Peanut. We mentioned it to the goatmother, who decided it would be to our advantage to delve further into the theory - especially in light of recent crop circle activity. So, the unsuspecting creature in question was whisked away to an unknown disclosure center in the mountains. What was revealed at the center is that pod puppy habitation is a definite possibility. See for yourself what was uncovered.

"Oy. My cover is blown."

"What were these people thinking???"

"Who are you and what have you done with my friend???"

"Ah, ha!!! We are on to you now! The antennae! I see the antennae!!!!! They're pink??!!! Who knew?"

"Oy. Where, oh where, has my little dog gone?"

"It acts like Cabra. It hoards all the chew bones just like Cabra. What masterful pretense!"

At least the rear antenna was left alone so E.T. can still phone home.

"The whole phenomena is a mystery wrapped in an enigma wrapped in a government agenda." - Fox Mulder, The X-Files.

X,Y and Z-Files

Oh, my goat!!! What is this?! Agent Marigold Scully here, along with my co-Agent, Watson Mulder. At approximately 0800 hours, on the 15th day of August, 2008 (notice it rings of that whole 'Ides' thing again), while investigating known coyote sightings, we came across what you see above. It was huge. It was symmetrical. What could have made it? Are there aliens among us? It had to be investigated further.

Proceeding up the road, we came upon yet another of the bizarre, circular phenomena. To his credit, Watson Mulder approached without fainting. Of course I required that he go first, since I am the one in command. The 'brains' of an operation must remain operational in case plans for further action are required. Nonetheless, neither Watson, nor myself, could find any logical, scientific explanation.

Next we investigated the pasture where a clear-cut, spherical indentation could be seen in the grass. Here, we were assisted by Agent Cabra, tail radar alert and running at full capacity as the abnormality was approached. Yes. It was a 'crop circle' in the truest sense.

The agent stands, perplexed by the marvel at hand.

I, myself, am skeptical that these occurrences can be attributed to an alien origin. Watson Mulder, however, is of a different mind. He sees the incidents as the work of some other-worldly force. Some goat-like creature, greenish in color with white spots and walking on hind legs only. Possibly it possesses several huge horns and a six-foot long beard done in an intricate French-braid. I must admit that it is a possibility. However, if this is indeed the truth, I am sure it is being covered up by some sinister organization in hopes of keeping us ignorant of the truth. The organization is most likely controlled by a diabolical and corrupt Peanut-hoarding cartel. At any rate, I feel further investigation is a necessity. The truth is out there. TRUST NO ONE.

I Dig, Therefore I am

Perhaps it is an epidemic, this thing about 'holes'. However, we goats are certainly not to be outdone by a mere dog. Besides, you might remember from back here, that Ella has been an expert on holes for some time. Thus are we all simply by osmosis. As a matter 0f fact, after that first initial incident (please refer to the above link) Ella had begun a new 'hole' in the barn. This one was between the two 'stalls' which separate the girls from the boys at night. It was under the gate, and I truly believe Ella thought she might actually fit under in order to gain access to the boys' hay. I could have told her, of course, that she was never going to fit. Nonetheless, she kept trying and eventually the goatmother and the goatfather squelched her pursuit thanks to a handy supply of Quick-Crete and several rocks. At the very least it keeps her hooves in fine shape now.

So that was that. Or so we thought. It started out innocently enough. Ella pawing at the dirt near the old Douglas fir out in the pasture. Then Peanut got interested. I know, the 'beautiful' leading the 'buttiful'...

However, soon Ella's machinations began to bear fruit, and a new 'hole' began to emerge. Only this hole had aspirations of a much grander scale. Then Boo got interested. Now we add sheer mass to the equation.

Ella began to dig in earnest, spelled by Peanut and occasionally Boo. Watson could never really get the hang of things. He wasn't very helpful since every time he tried, something froze. He was really good at watching though.

Finally I couldn't stand it any more. I simply had to see what the fascination was. Each time before, Ella's plan had been to actually get somewhere. But where was she going this time? China???

Oy. I don't get it really, but I'm sure not going to let some little not-so-frou-frou dog or some long-legged pushy Alpine get all the glory here. There is philosophical meaning attached to the making of any HOLE, leading us to believe that there is a certain wisdom inherent in the act of digging. After all, an age-old Chinese proverb says, "Only he that has traveled the road knows where the holes are deep." And I, grasshopper, know where there is a very deep one.

Helping Is As Helping Does

"I am only one, but I am one. I cannot do everything, but I can do something. And I will not let what I cannot do interfere with what I can do." ~ Edward Everett Hale


The bush was turning yellow. The goatmother gave it water.

Someone thought it would be nice to help. After all, the ground was hard and dry, and the water was simply running off down the hill.

"I am a good helper."

"What's this? I guess the hole isn't quite deep enough to hold the water so it can soak in - down to the roots. It isn't reaching the roots."

"Ah. That's better. But what do I do about this black stuff now? No matter. I have helped. I am good."

I am extremely thankful I am a goat and have absolutely no interest in helping. I don't really think the goatmother knows how to appreciate it anyway.

A Sad, Sad Day

Today we dwell in sorrow, for today the snake was found deceased - victim of a drive-by mowing. There is nothing I can say to express how much we will miss him. And so, I leave you this:

Ode To A Snake

Though you slithered instead of walked,
You never butted, stole grain or mocked.

Your eyes were beady and cold as stone,
But you always left the Peanuts alone.

You had no horns, no beard and such.
And though so odd, we learned so much.

Though someone’s different and not like me,
And if the outside’s all you see,

You just may miss the gold they hide.
Don’t judge the shell – see what’s inside.

The Great AH-HA!

Hey-ho! Watson here! Surprised, aren't you? Believe me, no one is as surprised as am I. Marigold is such a prima donna. Nonetheless, it is I, Watson, solver of mysteries and all around nice guy.

I had occasion to ponder the tale of the snake. It was a mystery, and obviously Marigold wasn't making any attempt to solve it. So, I began to reflect upon the facts at hand. First of all, why would a snake be interested in digging? Then, why would a snake even consider hanging out with a human? After deep ratiocination, considering every angle, I was able to shed light on the enigma. Really it was as plain as the grass is green. Obviously the goatmother is a parselmouth. "Good old Watson! You are the one fixed point in a changing age." (Sherlock Holmes, His Last Bow)

The Snake Tale

Interestingly enough, there are no poisonous snakes on the Olympic Peninsula...or so they say. I run across snakes in the grass every now and then when I am out searching for the most succulent blades (before Ella can get to them), and I've never actually seen snakes do much except slither away. Slithering. Seems like a singularly inept way of getting around, if you ask me. After all, everyone knows four legs are required, at the very least, for maximum efficiency. Anyway, all we have, here, are little garter snakes (Thamnophis odinoides for my caninaturalist friend, Ari), unless you count those un-goatly HUGE slugs that are everywhere and, to my mind, every bit as large as any snake. At least the real garden snakes don't leave the grass all slimy. I tell you, it's like eating okra. Oy and eewwwww.

Anyhow, yesterday the goatmother was out working in her flower/herb garden. She was busy moving some plants that didn't like it very well down by the pond. As she stepped over to the spot she had decided to transplant the unhappy vegetation into, a garter snake startled her. She, naturally, yelled and began waving her arms telling the snake to go on about its business - elsewhere. The goatfather told her the snake was beneficial. Of course the goatmother already knew that, but contended that the snake could just go about being beneficial somewhere else. Now the odd thing was, the snake didn't 'shoosh' as it should have. This snake decided it actually liked the goatmother, so it proceeded to turn around, push the upper part of its body slighty under some grass, and stick its head up to watch. Now you are probably thinking this is not really odd behavior, until I tell you that the goatmother could have reached out and touched this snake. It was that close. So, the goatmother shrugged and continued to dig her holes and replant her plants. After a long while the snake got tired and, without further ado, slithered away. Most likely digging seems pretty tiresome to a snake. Nonetheless, one can't help but wonder what he was thinking. Perhaps he was merely considering this: "Through the years of experience I have found that air offers less resistance than dirt." - Jack Nicklaus

I have to suspect a snake would tend to look at things that way.