Tuesday, October 26, 2010

The Goat Chronicles: Tree + Goat = Physical Therapy.

I’m not really an animal person.
But, for some reason I seem to be
surrounded by them. They flock to me.

Maybe it’s a gift or maybe I stink and
they’re attracted to my stinch. Hmm.
Nonetheless, I’ve accepted my gift.

However, animals need to know that
it is just not safe around here.
Country life is not for the weak of heart.
You’ve got to have some banker smarts
and cowboy grit. I am convinced that
these animals have none.

This is Ruby. You met her earlier this summer.
This was her second rescue from that tree. Not
smart. This little episode led to 4 days
of physical therapy provided by Hubs.
She was thrilled with her progress.
So was Hubs.

But this is where our story turns sad.
One afternoon, during her
therapy session, her brother, Max,
turned ill and quickly passed. Just like that.
As goats are prone to do. We mourned his
loss and quickly realized that Ruby needed
a companion; and so, who better to
keep her company than her Momma?
We’ve named her Lucy. She’s very social,

but sets a bad example. 

I should have been a city girl.

Blog ya later, Missy


  1. We grew up with a goat, her name was Doodles (cause that's what she did) and we used to ride her all the time!

  2. Was she a crazy as these two? I don't remember Doodles. Did you have her after I met you all?


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