A Goat Story

So, a goat wanders up to the fence at Tender Acres, aka, The Manor, the other day.  The dogs were outside and promptly went into a barking frenzy. 

The goat was a beauty, as goats go, tan with thick, curved horns and the expected wirey goatee.  He (only a guess, but it did have horns) was clean, well-manicured for a country goat and had a stubby little hairy tail that flicked nervously.

Every few seconds he bared his teeth and slightly opened his mouth.  Was I really hearing a tiny bleat?  I don’t have a lot of experience with livestock but even I knew that this goat was out of place at The Manor, that someone must surely be out looking for their missing agricultural exemption, I mean, goat.

I do have experience showing up in places where I haven’t been invited and or where I am not especially comfortable.  In either case, like the goat, I’m usually there because I want to know what’s on the other side of the fence. 

Unknown places–and circumstances–usually cause me to feel out of my element.  In the old days, I would mosey up to the bar, order my 7 & 7s or Jack & Cokes, and wait for the alcohol to raise my comfort level.

Once that level was attained, look out.  Who knew what fun and excitement was about to spontaneously erupt.  I’m being sarcastic, of course.

Back to the goat.  As I watched him eye-ball the dogs in his uncomfortable, unfamiliar surroundings, I didn’t notice him sucking down any cocktails to become more comfortable or to have fun. 

I knew one of two things would likely happen, and happen quickly.

Scenario #1:  Mr. Goat would get mean and belligerent, jump the fence and pick a fight with all three dogs, in spite of being outnumbered.

Scenario #2:  Mr. Goat would try to stare-down the dogs (crossing his front legs across his chest if he could) and puff himself up into goat-righteousness.  After a bit, when there was no clear winner of the staring contest, he might shrug his goat shoulders, turn and nonchalantly (but with attitude) walk away.

And that’s exactly what he did.  If he shrugged, I missed it.  If he threw his goatee in the air, I missed that too.  He just sort of left.

Huh.  Can a goat be a teacher?  If you have a goat-like experience in your life, would you jump the fence or walk away?

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