Here is a little fun fact about me: I love to make people laugh! Sometimes I use humor as an ice breaker, to end a disagreement, or to make someone feel better when they are down. I believe I get this trait from my father, who has a joke for every occasion. When I was young I would intentionally do something funny to make other’s laugh, then cry when they laughed because I thought they were laughing at me not with me. Of course, if they didn’t laugh I would also cry because I thought they didn’t think I was funny. I am so glad I grew out of that phase. So, this post has no purpose other than to make you laugh at me and with me!
In November, I somehow managed to talk my husband into letting me get a goat. This was a huge feat I assure you. My aunt had a friend who was getting rid of her pygmy goat, for free. The free part was probably what sealed the deal for the hubs. My oldest son and I spent a weekend clearing some of our land for the pen. Then my husband, along with my son and I, built a pen out of free pallets…again, the free part was super helpful. Once the pen was finished I planned to get the goat. Well, it just so happened we finished the pen right before my husband was to leave town for an overnight trip—designed for him to rest and rejuvenate. I decided not to let this deter me, so as soon as he left to go out of town, I left to go pick up my new goat. Now, I am known for being a bit impulsive and speeding away to an unknown destination with my hands in the air squealing with delight because of the possibilities that await me. My husband says I am the gas pedal and he is the brake. Well, without my brake pedal I just sped along not stopping to think things through.
I met my aunt at her house and followed her and her husband to get the goat. I was totally impressed with myself that I remembered the crate to put the goat in for travel. In my eyes I was totally prepared. We got the goat in the car after some coaxing from me and off I headed towards home. I realized a few miles down the road that I had no supplies to take care of a goat; no food, nothing to put food or water in, nothing. I might want to add here that I have never owned nor taken care of a goat before. Since I am the gas pedal I just headed right on over to my local feed store fully believing they would be able to tell me what to do and help me get all that I needed.
I love my local feed store and the people that work there. It is where I got my chickens and where I go for all their needs. There is one girl in particular that I have become friends with and luckily, she was working that day. I walked in and we commenced with our normal greeting; she asked how my chickens were and if I was ready to get some more. So, I said, “Well, I kind of did a thing…I just got a goat!” She squealed with delight and asked if I had it with me. The next thing I know I am standing at the back of my truck with two of the employees oogling and googling over my adorable goat. I let them know that I had no idea what I was doing, so they grabbed my arms and lead me inside. They showed me everything I needed, gave me some tips, loaded my truck and sent me on my way. Once again I was feeling pretty confident that I totally had this.
I got home, got the goat out of the truck and put her in the pen. I headed back towards the truck to finish unloading all my goodies, but before I could get to the truck I noticed the goat was walking by my side. Confused, I looked back at the pen and realized a whole section was lying on the ground. I walked back to the pen with the goat following close by my side and realized my husband had neglected to screw in one of the panels. No worries, I was sure I could handle it, so I called my husband. He told me what to do to fix the panel, so off I went to get the tools from the garage with the goat still right by my side. I quickly got it fixed, put the goat back in, and attempted to go to the truck to finish unloading. Before I knew it, the goat turned up right by my side. Here is what I learned, goats can really jump and my pen was too short! Now I had no idea what I was going to do. So, again, I call the hubs, who is supposed to be relaxing, and I proceed have a small freak out. After talking to him I decided to put the crate in the goat pen and simply lock the goat in the crate for the night. Since I could not lock the goat in the pen and didn’t want to confine her to the crate all day, I just let her follow me around while I unloaded the truck and got the pen set up for her. Once evening came I locked her in the crate which I put in the shelter in her pen. All was well so I headed to the store. I checked on her when I got home and she seemed fine so I went inside for the night.
About an hour after coming inside, my phone started ringing and so did my doorbell. Apparently, my goat had managed to bust out of the crate and the pen and was wondering down the street, which my neighbors discovered after reading a post on the Nextdoor app. I should probably add here that I live in a regular neighborhood. One that has deed restrictions against keeping animals like goats on your property. Well, we own a little over an acre behind out house that is not governed by the neighborhood, and that is why I can have the goat. Not everyone knows this little tidbit, so the goat walking down the street caused quite the uproar. I should also add, we had only lived in our house since April and hadn’t met all of our neighbors yet. This was probably not the best way to meet them. So, me and several of my neighbors (the ones I had met) hit the streets in the dark looking for my new little goat. We were in trucks, golf carts, and on foot. We had flashlights in hand calling, “Annabelle” as loud as we could all around the neighborhood. While driving I saw a constable at the park and stopped to ask him if he had seen a goat. He said he had never been asked that in all of his years of being on the force. Now we also had a constable looking for our goat as well. At one point he asked me how my husband had managed to escape the duties of looking for the goat. I explained that he was out of town, so he asked me if my husband knew I was spending the evening with a man in uniform.
We searched for over an hour with no luck. I arrived back home defeated and devastated. Once more, I hesitantly called my husband, who was probably wondering why he even bothered to try to relax. I attempted to be calm, but instead I explained to him what happened through tears and snot. My neighbors and I continued trying to communicate with people through the app that had seen my sweet goat. The first person that had posted about the goat said she was out to dinner but would look for the goat when she got back home. Well, when she got home she found the goat, on her coffee table! The kids had lured it home and brought it inside. So, down the street I go to get my escape goat! Luckily my neighbor offered drive me in his truck since the crate was still in the goat pen. Once I got home I moved the crate to the garage, put the goat in it, and put the door of the crate against the wall and headed to bed.
The next evening while we were having dinner with some friends at our house, the doorbell rang. My husband answered the door to find a constable on our porch. The constable asked, “Are you the husband?”. My husband replied, “Yes, my name is Steve.” The two shook hands and the constable said, “I am the boyfriend!” Fortunately, I had told my husband the whole story or that might have seemed a bit odd. They both laughed and talked about the goat and the events of the evening before. I am now known as the goat lady and people in our neighborhood stop to see and snap the goat every time I take her out for walks. Yes, I walk my goat on a leash! Welcome to my crazy!
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