There was no NaBloPoMo #27 post. I have a very good excuse for not posting yesterday.... it involves goats.
We spent the weekend in Portland visiting Dave's mom, Max.
On Sunday, we were just about to step out of her house and head for home when the phone rang. A hysterical woman was on the other line. We managed to make out a few words, "goat", "Dead", "Missing", and "I don't know what to do."
Apparently, a neighbor was feeding Max's goats and found one dead.
So, Dave and I dropped everything and rushed over to the goat pen. When Dave's dad, Al, was alive he took in a couple of goats and figured they'd be good for keeping blackberry bushes and grass down in the "back acreage". The two goats quickly turned into four goats which quickly turned into eight goats which finally ended with about twelve goats. After Al passed away, Max worked hard at getting rid of the goats; giving them away to farms and other people. She was down to her last three female goats. They've been keeping the grass down while she plans the future of the "back acreage".
Dave and I found the white goat laying in the mud. It's throat was gone. The other white goat followed us around, crying. The black goat was missing.
For the next two hours, Dave and I searched the back acreage in the pouring rain. **As the sun set, I slogged through the mud looking and calling for that black goat. I walked along the creek bank checking bushes, reeds, and fallen stumps. I trudged along the fence line scanning for holes or weakness a black goat could get through. All the while, talking to the last lonely goat, asking her to show me where her friend could be....
And finally, with my flashlight, I watched as Dave, soaking wet, dug a hole in the rain. We covered the goat and slowly walked back up the hill to the house where dry shoes waited.
As we drove home, Dave smiled, "Well, that's two less goats she has to worry about now." But I wonder....perhaps that black goat is out there hiding somewhere. She might show up yet.
** - Sun sets ~4:30pm now days. It gets dark very early.
Lately, the Caboose has been thinking deep and saying some pretty astute, yet weird, things. So, I decided it was time for an interview. (I've posted interviews with my older kids in the past so figured it was high time I did one with The Caboose!)
Why Are There Mothers?
Um...um...cuz they love kids.
Why Are There Fathers?
Because they love people.
How are Mothers Made?
They are made of sparkles.
How are Daddies Made?
They are made of magazines. (giggles)
Why do You have a Mom?
Cuz she loves me.
Any other reason?
What kind of little girl was mommy?
You were like a hairy boss.
(giggles) Yeah, momma, a hairy boss.
What was daddy like when he was little?
He was a kitty cat when he was little. (giggles)
Now you are just being silly. Who is the boss at our house?
MOMMA! Daddy isn't the boss. Why are you the boss, mommy?
I don't know. You tell me. Why am I the boss?
(shrugs his shoulders) You can't spank people when they are silly.
What is the difference between mommy and daddy?
I don't know....He's the daddy, your the mommy. I'm a big boy.
What does mommy do when she's home alone?
Um...cry cuz you are all alone....You are lonely. I don't want you to be lonely, mamma.
Don't worry, I'm not lonely. Is thereAnything else you want to tell me?
(giggles) I don't want to tell you. (giggles) I love daddy.
Before running to the store to purchase a big old Butterball this Thanksgiving - please read this article and consider purchasing a local Heritage Turkey. (if it is too late this year, remember for next year!)