Call Me What?

This is one of those times where I have several seemingly-unrelated threads of story - hoping to weave them together into something that makes sense. We'll see how it goes.

I believe it started when my daughters were in third grade so many years ago. Arriving slightly late for Parent-Teacher Night at the local elementary school, Mike and I slipped into the back row as the principal was presenting a new school initiative -  a necesssary addition to school regulations designed to keep our children safe from a potentially-dangerous (though popular) activity. As he droned on about rules and penalties for infractions, I was puzzled. This now-banned activity was one in which I had participated many times, both as a child and an adult, had even enjoyed. Did the administration have the right to regulate what students did even off school property?  And where was the danger, really? Heavy equipment, slippery floors, I still wasn't gettting it. I leaned over and whispered to my husband about the inanity of this new program.

Mike just shook his head, then rolled his eyes. Knowing that an injury several years ago left me with a moderate hearing impairment, he should be used to this...

"Not anti-bowling," he whispered into my good ear. "It's the new anti-bullying initiative."

Well, that was just a little embarrassing.

Now on to the goats...we realized that while most of our pets have several affectionate nicknames (Benny-Boo, Tobi-kins, Ellie-Belly), there just wasn't a good one for Emerson. In reaction to his ever-naughty personality I have called him Scampy and even "Demon Spawn," but who knows what that does to his self-esteem? The hunt for a nickname was on. "Emmie" was vetoed because we also use that for my daughter Emily (too confusing, for example, if I say "Emmie just pooped all over the deck"). The thing about Emerson is he's just so bad. One thing that really annoys me is how he has taken to viciously butting his horn scur into Ellie's side whenever I am rewarding them with animal crackers for good behavior, like going into the pen at night. Ever since Ellie's own scurs were ripped off by the vet, he has little self-defense against his smaller brother. Emerson only ever had one scur but now he's using it to full advantage. Does he really think I'll give him all the treats if he gets his brother out of the way? You can't help but love him anyway, though, especially with his thick, soft winter coat - like petting a wooly mammoth - and then it came to me.

Anyone older than I am may remember a great old song by Sam the Sham & the Pharaohs (thanks, Megan, for looking that up for me!), and it describes Emerson perfectly. Listen to the song on you-tube if you don't know it, and think of Emerson - our own little "Wooly Bully."