Friday, August 19, 2011

our days

No one has every accused me of having a boring life.  Today was no exception...

My morning started out kind of nice since the little kids slept late, and I didn't.  Having a little bit of time in the morning to get my bearings is always a good thing.  I read my Bible, checked my emails, and then talked to son Gage, who also got up early to jog, for a little while.  Tommy was the first little one up, but he was out the door before I could feed or dress him.

I was just getting up to get dressed myself when the door flew open and Tommy came in, talking a mile a minute.  I could tell he was upset, so I headed for a chair and sat down, and he flew straight into my arms and curled up in a ball.  That is unusual for Tommy, who is not affectionate.  But it didn't take long for me to find out what was wrong.

"I went for a lalk (walk)," he said, "an' a bi' (big) dog lased (chased) me.  An' he wa' bawkin' (was barking)."  Big tears sprang into his eyes and his lip began to quiver.
Tears threatened my eyes too because he looked so pitiful.
"What do you mean, you went for a walk?  You mean you left our yard?"  I asked.
"Les (yes)." he answered.  "And a bi' bwack (big black) dog lased (chased) me!"
"Where did you go?"  I asked, getting worried that he had walked far enough down the road to meet up with the rottweiler that even my 14 year old daughter and 17 year old son are scared of.
"Jus' to Mr. Bomee's (Bromley's) twee (tree)."
Whew, okay, that is allowed.  Now I knew he had stayed within the rules, and Mr. Bromley's dog is pretty gentle, even if he does protect his property by barking.
And we do have speech therapy scheduled, they just haven't gotten all the clearance to start yet.
"So why were you walking down the road so early in the morning when you haven't gotten dressed yet?"  I asked.
"I was hunin' gwasshoppuhs (hunting grasshoppers)."
Well, how dumb of me.  That should have gone without saying...

So I baby my son for a while, which I really enjoy, then feed him, dress him and send him off to play again.  I get myself dressed, and go off to get the chickens caged up and check on the other animals.
The goats are tethered in the yard to eat grass.  I decide to check their water and make sure they aren't tangled.
I had a paper plate in my hand that I had fed the chickens scrapes off of.  As I approached the male goat, he became VERY interested in the paper plate.  I decided to use it to walk him around the trailer he had wrapped his cord around.  The cord was tangled on a wire, so I laid the plate down to get it loose.
As I did, the goat made a threatening gesture at me with his horns.  That should have been my first clue.
I got him untangled, and reached for the paper plate.  He didn't like that, so he charged me.
Okay, a goat is not an overly big animal, but I am not an overly big person.  And I give to goats.  But I didn't give quick enough.  The horns hit both my wrists and my thigh.  I'm not sure if it would have been worse had he not been tethered, but I was able to back out of his reach.

I was not happy.  More and more, this goat has been making threatening gestures at us, and I had seen him lower his  horns at Tommy recently.  As I looked at him in dismay, Bill walked towards me.
"Did you see that?"  I asked  He hadn't.
"That goat just hit me with his horns!"  I said, showing him my wrist, where a cut was making way to a huge knot, and my thigh, where a bruise was also rising.
"That's what bucks do."  Bill said.
"I can't have a dangerous animal around here...I wanted this to work so bad, but without a good fence, I guess I should just sell them."  The fence had been discussed thoroughly the week before, and it was decided we could not afford it right now.
"You do so well with chickens," Bill said.  "Why don't you just stick with that?"
So I advertised the goats on Facebook and Craigslist.  I got a couple of emails, but one wanted me to lower the price and another, who it ended up I knew through her daughter, didn't write back yet.

And then I thought of Rose...

Remember Rose, from the goose saga?  How many times has she lugged her goats over here in the back of her car to breed them with my buck?
I called her and offered her the buck.  I lowered the price and offered to take it in trade in a way I knew she could pay.  Two hours later, she arrived for him.
Sitting at my table, with her shy, odd way of talking, she said, "I never pay this much for a goat, but you've been so good to me..."  Then she looked up at me, and her eyes filled with tears.
Oh, my...twice in one day?  I smiled and began to talk quick to get us past the awkward moment.

We went outside to get the goat.  Rose was a bit afraid since I told her he had hurt me, and that's why I decided to get rid of the goats.  We roped him with two ropes, she took one, I took the other, so that he could not lunge at either of us.  I got a cup of corn, and we lured him into the back seat of her car.  She tied his back legs together as he ate the corn, then jumped in herself for a quick drive home.  I watched as she pulled out of my driveway with that stinky goat (have you ever smelled a goat in rut?  They...ummm...tee tee on themselves.  It's rank...)
I thought, not in a million years would I have put that stinky, mean goat in the backseat of a small car and drove off...

From there, it got better.  My car has been having trouble for most of the summer.  It just dies, and you never know when.  I might get all the way to Burleson and back and not have trouble, or it might die while I'm driving down my own road.  I finally told my teenage daughter that we just couldn't risk it - driving down the highway at 60 miles an hour on a 115 degree day and having the car die is not safe...
So we stuck to Grandview, and finally got the funds to put it in the shop.  It took a week, but today I got the call:
"It's fixed!  Come get it."


We put on bathing suits and took off for a snow cone and a trip to the Splash Pad.  Tommy is getting well enough that he can have a treat now and then without working up a rage, which is GREAT.
I decided to drive by the Splash Pad first, and unfortunately, it's closed for repairs.  It seems like it's closed half the time.
So we went for the snow cones anyway.
Mary Susannah has felt very deprived that Tommy's diet has kept her from getting snow cones every week like we used too, but today, she got one:

And so did the little ones:

(they are in bathing suits, we don't normally wear shorts around here, and the girls are dresses only)

I got a snow cone, too, but my picture didn't get made, which is fine!

So now we are home, lesson learned that it's best to go with the buddy system when you take a walk at the crack of dawn.  We are one goat less around here, with two more to go, and best of all, we have a CAR AGAIN!!

New adventures to start tomorrow, while we do a whole summers worth of fun that we've missed without the car.

In the meantime, anyone want to buy a doe?  Or two?

1 comment:

  1. Glad your little fella wasn't really hurt and that he can climb trees! I'm so sorry you have to get rid of your goats. We got rid of ours a couple of years ago, but today I found out about a couple of Sannens that I'm hoping I can get. I'm ready to be a goat girl again! My husband told me the same thing about just sticking to chickens, but now our woods are really filled with brush and they could use a good goat cleaning! Hope you can sell the others quickly. Blessings!


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