Ok, so, you know how one has moments in life that you simply cannot make up no matter how hard you try? Today was already weird. Went to court to offer moral support to a colleague, came home, and after about an hour, the dogs went freakin' ballistic. All three of them from big chunk down to the smallest canine terror were, excuse me, perched on the arm of my queen chair glued to the screen barking beyond loudly. What is up with that?
I look outside and see nothing in the driveway. As the average person does, I shriek, "SHUT UP!" and hope the neighbors don't hear and call PETA on me.
Then something moved. Two somethings actually. Goat medium and goat REEEAALLLY big...much bigger...on the deck...walking around very casually as if nothing was amiss.
Ok, so it's not quite as wonderful as a graduation or wedding, but I had to snap the photos because, well, people would assume I was a crackhead if I said, "Yo, two goats on the porch. high noon. No martinis involved."
Yeah, right. People here would be all over that hooha, believe me. I would become "That lawyer chick who thought she saw goats" snicker snicker chortle chortle.
Well, turns out that goat really big (he really looks like a Max)ate his cable and goat medium (he's much more delicate, perhaps a Sherman or Alexander), his pal, took off on walkabout. By the way, it is a myth goats eat anything. they turned their noses up at celery but gobbled down oats...then tried to eat the camp chair...and my, er, shirt...um, ok, ok, so who knew?
Funny thing about it, we had been talking about getting a couple of goats. So, was this a moment of divine intervention? Fate? Goats from heaven? Heaven's goats? Hmmmm...could be a movie...josh. Perhaps they floated down and ditched their goat angel wings.
Or rather were these sinister goats sent by the neighbor who thinks we should trim the prairie grass and manicure our wild hillside? Hmmm. there could be a dark aspect to this whole goat scenario...nah.
Hey, aliens could have brought them. Maybe they had been abducted somewhere in Kansas. Who knows? But face it, it does raise endless speculation. I mean, seriously, how many goats do you encounter at garden parties?
"Oh look dahling, there are Lisa's goats. They're on the deck again." NOT.
When I came inside to get them some water, goat really big, Max, bumped the door. Knocked. How delightful and so well mannered. Oh hell, they were just damned cute and I seriously thought about keeping them. But I can't do that.
So I called 911. "What's your name?"
"Just call me Noah...with a twist. Know anyone who lost a couple of goats?"
"Aren't you the one who found the dog last week?"
"Yep, guilty...like I said, Noah Lisa, kind of like Mona Lisa... only without the smile thing."
"Yeah, well I'll see what I can do."
Hanging up, I wondered, "What could one possibly do? I mean, how the hell do you carry a goat? Sidecar? Cart (aka goat cart)? Hang glider and push them off our butte letting them float gently to the road below?"
Sheesh...welcome to my world.
Well this being quite a small town, the epilogue was that Max and Sherman's people found us. And yes, there was a point where both goats almost received, I kid (get it?) you not, a back seat ride.
But I spent a most pleasant hour or so hanging out with them, petting them and rubbing their ears. Goats like that. They were ever wonderful and now...I miss them...YAY GOATS!