Yet another sad day has come. Goatee, my 6-year-old Nigerian Dwarf pet goat was found dead yesterday afternoon. The kids had gone to play with him again and take him for a walk, one of their favorite activities. Earlier yesterday morning, they had taken him out on his leash to let him savor weeds and tasty treats outside the barnlot. The very same varieties that grow within the barnlot, yet he seemed to relish the ones outside the fence so much more. He adored attention and loved for the kids to pet and play with him. For years now, Goatee has been a companion when I took walks around the farm. In the cool weather, he would be quite frisky, standing on his hind legs and raising his back hair, then bouncing away and back to me when he wanted to play. He would stand up tall and make a growling sound in his throat, with a silly goat grin on his face, but never once did he ever butt me. Instead, pushing his head gently into my leg or hand to indicate he wanted me to push him and play.
Alas, he was not so gentle with the dogs or sheep and I believe this was his undoing. From the evidence found at the scene, it would appear he may have picked a fight with his barn companion, a large ewe by the name of Belle. Many times I had seen Goatee challenging Belle and warned him that was not a good idea. I did not foresee that she may finally have enough of his shenanigans and cause him serious harm, as she always regarded him with irritated patience. It seems she must have finally butted him back, in the side, ramming him up against one of the timbers in the barn where he fell and lay still.
We will miss you, Goatee. I will miss your happy, mischievous spirit. I will miss your bleats asking to be let out as you peer through the bars of the barnlot gate watching me work in the yard. I will even miss you escaping from your pen and trotting directly over to the yard, nosing up the gate latch in order to come in and much roses, especially the prettiest and freshest blooms. We will miss your little goat nibbles and gently taking treats from small hands. We were blessed to know you and hope you are now kicking up your heels and dancing in deep clover and fresh rose petals.
Until next time, may we all live so that we are missed after we are gone.
Friday, July 20, 2012
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