Saturday, May 05, 2007

The Goat Brigade

Betsy, the Goat Yoda, asked me to pick up two rescued Nubian does yesterday. I had some concerns about transport, because my goat whisperers Buck and Peace were unavailable. Buck had to work and Peace was off to Boy Scout camp. I was left with energy boy (aka Tater), Wise One, and Pooh Bear as inadequate helpers. What if the goaties wanted to jump into the front seat and drive with me?

I called Claire with my woes, and she promptly offered the caprine wrangling services of herself and Slow to Speak. Apparently, they were just sitting around moping about Slow's departure, and a goat adventure sounded like the ticket out of the blues.

She was right.

Claire rigged up an amazing contraption with a baby gate and bungy cords which as a driver's security measure. Slow to Speak set a jolly tone when she began to sing the puppet song from The Sound of Music, "High on a hill stood a lonely goat herd. Lady, oda, lady, oda, lay, hee, who." She continued the merriment by pointing out how my ride had already been "mommed" and how the addition of goats would seal the deal. Though it embarresses some of my friends, I proudly drive a 1991 Previa with 230,000 miles on the odometer, sundry missing pieces, scratches, holes, and crayons melted on the passenger seat. I intend to drive it till it dies, which may be the end of time. It's been to the repair shop twice in five years.

Our goat exchange took place in a McDonald's parking lot. I think I met Betsy years ago when I bought soap molds from her. I carried the adorable black fuzzy creatures one at a time to my van without a bit of trouble. Though they are two years old, they are scrawny due to neglect, not Betsy's, but the previous owners who lost interest. Betsy explained the does are in much better shape now than when they arrived at her farm.

Slow to Speak spoke goat, so she told Sissy and Sarah, "Just lie down girls." They obeyed by coiling their necks 'round one another and lay peacefully till they cheerfully jumped out of the van at True Vyne Farm. Their names are Sissy and Sarah for now, until my children decide otherwise.

The does are springy, curious, loving, and surprisingly not afraid of rain. My other goats seem fine with the new girls in town.

I took a happier Claire and Slow to Speak to Claire's house. I'm glad to add another suddenly fun memory to our time together before Slow heads back to Oklahoma.

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