The other day a woman came to my door. She had driven past the house, noticed the goats, and heard them bawling so hysterically that she actually turned around and came back, convinced that one of them must be grievously injured or caught in the fence, so agonized were their cries. She wanted to alert me to their distress.
No, I explained, I was just out there a few minutes ago. The goats are fine. Recently their "lonely" calls have changed from a pleasant "maaahhh - come play with us?" to a manic, heart-stopping shriek that did indeed bring me running in panic several times before I got wise to their scheme. "Helppppp us!! Our water is cold, our hay is stale, no peoples are paying attention to us! We are abandoned and dying out here!!" Talk about the goats who cried wolf...
I know several families who have goats. Some are pets, some are raised for show or sale, some are pampered (ok, those are mine) while some are so neglected it borders on abuse. Here's what I've noticed, though - no one else has goats like these. Most goats just eat, drink, enjoy attention when it's given, and generally mind their own business. Also, I've never met anyone else whose goats require cones. (That's right, Elliot now has one too...)
O.P.G. That's it. My list is written. All I want for Christmas is...Other People's Goats.
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