Well, it was a quiet Saturday morning filled with laundry and more cleaning. And also potty training. Hubby was away in the woods in a tree stand somewhere hunting. I should have known that since it has been so long since my last test of true farm- wifery, and since hubby was gone and unable to be reached by phone, that a series of unfortunate events was inevitably going to take place very soon. And so at 9:30 am, the fun began. Daughter and I were busy in the laundry room when I heard son laughing hysterically near the back door. I ignored it-all good Mom's know to ignore laughing since it means that everyone is happy. But the longer it went on, the more I began to wonder what was causing it. Son exclaims, "Scrappy's trying to get in the house!" Scrappy is a 1 year old male goat who lives inside a 5 acre barbwire fenced pasture with his 2 other goat buddies (Sweet Grass and Peanut) and a 18 month old Jersey calf, Sweetums. You can imagine my shock and horror at the sight of all 3 of our goats looking in our back door and all of our windows at that level. They are frolicking, they are eating potted plants, they are pooping on my front porch, they are being the 3 billy goats gruff. My reaction is the typical girl-who-didn't-grow-up-on-a-farm reaction. I started screaming. OH NO! OH MY GOSH! DON'T OPEN THE DOOR! OH NO! GO GET SHOES ON! DON'T OPEN THE DOOR! OH MY GOSH! Daughter was immediately rubber booted up and out the front door-she was on a mission. Son had to get pants and diaper put back on (did I mention I was potty training?) and then shoes and then I had to put my shoes on. All the while I am grasping at straws in my head of what I am going to do. You must understand something here- these goats are very strong, have very long pointy horns, and are, well, stubborn. They have a new freedom and I highly doubted at this point that they would simply march back into the pasture when I gently suggested it to them. So I head out the door, 3 year old son in tow, with no plan what so ever. 5 year old daughter is already running toward the shed where the food is kept- genius. Wish I would have thought of that. I push one goat off the porch and cover the sand box-they were eating the sand out of it. Yes it is true what they say, goats will eat anything. I see my bigonia, it is clipping from my Grandfather and has grown wonderfully. Those blasted goats are drooling looking at it. I start screaming again. GET OFF HERE! NO! GO AWAY! GET! NO! GO BACK! It's no use. They love it out here. Daughter is trying to get the food placed strategically while I attempt to lure them toward her. 2 out of the 3 are interested, so I am hopeful. When we get down to the gate of the pasture, the 600 pound calf is attempting the same stunt that the goats pulled- she has found the place the goats got out. The portion of the fence that doesn't have barb wire has been pushed to the ground, while the barb wire strand is still pulled tightly across. The goats simply hopped over with out a problem. So as I see Sweetums contemplating her next move, I do a quick assessment of the situation. 2 young kids, 3 stubborn goats on the loose, 1 panicking farm wife... the addition of the calf running wild would be quite possibly much, much more than I could handle. The hawk and the snake incidents paled in comparison to what I was imagining would happen if Sweetums went for it. Thank you Lord, thank you precious Lord that she got a whiff of the corn that daughter was throwing into the pasture. She walked away. Whew. Now back to the scene before me: daughter was getting no where with these 3 rotten things. Son was really getting antsy to get in on the action, but I was just so nervous that the goats would really get annoyed by the kids corraling them that it would make it worse. So, I started screaming again. GET IN HERE! JUMP OVER! PEANUT! SCRAPPY! ARGH! WHERE IS DADDY? ARGH! I couldn't do anything further. I took 3 year old inside, daughter requested to stay out with them to keep them from running off, and I agreed. Honestly, she is the best person for this job. When inside, I text husband: SERIOUS PROBLEM. GOATS ARE OUT. FENCE IS DOWN. COME HOME FAST. Then son and I sit at the window and watch what daughter is doing. This situation was beyond me and I simply could not get the goats back in. This is what we saw from the window:
What can I say, I raised a genius for a child. She roped one goat and then attempted to tie up another one. Now, don't think I don't realize the potential of 2 goats tied to the same rope. But it was keeping them close to the pasture, and occupied. In the meantime, I had realized that my throat was sore from all the screaming. I also got a text from hubby: On my way home. Praise the Lord! When hubby arrived, in less than 5 minutes the billy goats were back in the fence and they were so exhausted from their morning that they went straight to nap time. Hubby repaired the fence in no time, and once again the farm wife was back to work inside-where I belong.
So for those of you who still believe that my life out here in the peaceful country is mundane and dull.... I'll give you a call next time I see this at my back door:
5 comments:
Haha! Yes, I'll stay right here in the city 0.1 miles from the nearest Walmart, Publix and whatever else I need.
That is a RIOT!!! But I know it surely wasn't funny at the time! Your writing made me feel I was right there chasing those stubborn beasts with you!
Esther is a smart cookie! She's got farm smarts! She'll make a good farmer's wife someday! ;)
We have half the the plants we used to have thanks to our goats. I feel your pain.
Now when I look outside, I catch myself doing a double take when I see the goats near the gate... ARE THEY IN? ARE THEY OUT? Ok, phew! They're in.
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