Nerves of GAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!!

Sooooo...you're all caught up on the situation with the animals, right? If not, you might want to skip down to the previos post because it will make this one oh-so-much-more-meaningful.

The new goat - goat/dog. He seems to be settling in alright. Hubby and I did manage to get to the store for another 300 feet of fence which we hope to put up this weekend. Because you know, nothing says "The Lord Is Risen!" like installing fence.

In the mean time, he is still in the kennel. Which is holding him just fine.

Sort of.

He has actually warmed up to the dogs and is pretty happy when they are in the kennel with him. However, as goats are herd animals, he's not too crazy about being alone when we bring the dogs in. Not a happy goat. At all.

At first he would just kind of trot around doing the "Baaaa-aaa" thing.

Back and forth, back and forth.

"Baaaaa-aaaaa!"

Back and forth...

"BAAAAAA-AAAAA!!!"


When we built the kennel, we put it right off the back of the house so we could just open the back door and the dogs could run right in. It's great on those bitter cold winter nights - not having to actually walk the dogs out to a kennel. Just open the door and boot them out.

The downside of this, of course, is that, when you have a lonely goat in the kennel, sooner or later he is bound to realize that he can stand up and look through the window of the door. It's an old door and has four big panes in the top half - just perfect for lonely goats who want to peek in on the family.

In the morning at breakfast...
"BAAAAAAA-AAAAAAAAAA!!!!"

Sitting at the kitchen table trying to pay bills...
"BAAAAAAAAAA-AAAAAAAA!!!!!"

In the evening, having a nice family dinner...
"BAAAAAAAAAAAA-AAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!"

We would all try to ignore the cacophony and carry on a fractured conversation.

Me: So, Daughter, what did y-
Lonely Goat: BAAAAAAAAA-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
Me: What did you d-
Lonely Goat: BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-AAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
Me: What di-
Lonely Goat: BAAAAAAAAAAAAA-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
Me:...
Lonely Goat:...
Me:...
Lonely Goat:...
Me: Wha-
Lonely Goat: BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-AAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!
Me: WHATDIDYOUDOATSCHOOLTODAY???!!!!
Lonely Goat: BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!


And so on.


It is hard enough ignoring him but he stands up and looks right in the windows at us.


"BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"


I finally told hubby we need to get the fence up and get another goat to keep him company before I lose what little bit is left of my mind.

Because just when you think it can't get any worse...

The other night - the night when the temperature dropped from the lovely mid 60's to something like 20 below - I reached my breaking point.

I had an unusually long day at work and didn't get home until around 7:00 or so. Just enough time to feed all of the animals before darkness really settled in. I had been in a real hurry that morning and ran out the door without my lunch so, by the time I got home and fed everyone else, I was really ravenous. I foraged around in the freezer to try to find something quick and easy.

Aha! Pierogies and Sprouts de Brussels in butter sauce. Perfect.

I put some water on the stove to boil...

"BAAAAAAAAAAAAA-AAAAAAAAAAA!"

...sliced up an onion and put it in a pan with butter...

"BAAAAAAAAAA-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

...cut a small slit in the bag of Sprouts de Brussels in butter sauce and popped it in the microwave...

"BAAAAAAAAAAAAA-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!"

...checked the water - it's boiling - time to put the pierogies in...

...

...stir the onions and butter, careful not to burn them...

...

...check on the Sprouts de Brussels, oh good, the goat finally settled down...

...

...stir the onions and butter again...

...

...check the pierogies, uh oh, looks like one popped open, better get -


SMAAAAAAAASH!!!!!!

BAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!

"WHA-? HOLY CRAP!!!"


Pierogie flying through the air.



It's funny how, in life, your priorities can shift in an instant. One minute you are happily stirring your pierogies, the next minute you have a goat smashing through your window in a hail of flying glass and, out of some sort of primitive fight or flight reflex, one of your precious little potato pockets is sailing through the air to land Splat! on the floor where it is promplty gobbled up by a beagle.

It's funny how that can happen.

All of a sudden like that.

And those tender little Sprouts de Brussels in buttery sauce, cooked to steamy perfection, now sit in your microwave, slowly giving in to the Canadian cold front that is now blowing around your kitchen as you plod around out in the garage, looking for a drill with a fresh battery and some screws and a piece of plywood and the circular saw because God forbid you find a piece of plywood that is remotely near the size you need to cover the now missing window of your door through which first came a goat and now a Canadian cold front, congealing to a gross yellow mass what was once a warm buttery sauce on your now pitiful Sprouts de Brussels.


Funny how those things happen.


The goat, you will be happy to know, is no worse for the wear.

I, on the other hand...