DEATH BY GOAT....OR.....I DON'T NEED NO STINKIN' MAN

Now, now, put your tissue up, I lived to tell the story - the goats did not win.

I won and that's why I kinda wanted to name this post, "I DON'T NEED NO STINKIN' MAN".

That's because I beat me some goats by myself.

The Tank? Out of town for the day.

Picture this.....I'm sound asleep *probably not more than 5 or 5:30 am ;)*

and in comes my mom. She tells me that all of the goats

were out and that they were in the swimming pool.

I turn my head enough to mutter back to dear mother, "They're IN the pool??".

"Well, no, but they're all around the pool and what if they want a drink??"

"They'll drown."

The goats loved getting some sun at the pool and no one fell in.

(thought bubble) 'Right.'

I slowly rise out of bed and stumble into the bathroom,

get dressed, take my meds and brush my teeth.

You see, I was real concerned.

The front yard was full of goats, too.

Evidence that the goats were in the yard.

Just outside of the yard.

I was so glad that my table and chairs were still standing!

See that corner??

Several of those sneaky goats tried to blend in and hide there.

I went outside and all of the goats were at the pool, in the yard, outside of the yard, everywhere they weren't supposed to be.

They should have been in a pasture by the barn.

Frank wasn't on the place

and all I had for a ranch hand would be.......my mother.

So, basically.......I was alone.

I got the bucket, a plastic Maxwell coffee can.

(You see, if you're a real rancher you don't need fancy metal buckets.

You just use what's in the trash.)

I filled the bucket with goat feed and got them all into the pasture.

The infamous plastic Maxwell coffee bucket.

No man.
No ranch hand.

No mother.
I did it all by myself.

I don't need no stinkin' man.

However, after it was all over,

what I did need was a change of clothes 

and a shower.

Oh, not because I broke a sweat.

Come on, I am woman.

"BACK OFF, BILLY!!.....BILLY!! BACK OFF!!.........Ohhhhh, Billy!

The problem was that, well, the billy (proud man goat)

rubbed up against me.

So?????

Well, let's see, how do I put this?

Why do I share it at all?

I share it because it's a fact that all should know

in case you are ever caught in the middle of a goat herd.

To attract the fetching female goats for a date

(yes, they date)

the male goat goes through a, well, a ritual......

Billy lowers his head between his front legs

and, well, oh gosh, this is so hard.....

Okay, I'm just going to say it.....

Billy lowers his head between his front legs

and he, okay, he pees on his head.

There I said it.

I know, it's quite vile.

AND, it's the truth. (I know!)

And, since this isn't smell-a-blog

then you aren't getting the real feel for this act.

IT. IS. SO. BAD. THAT. IF. BILLY. CORNERS. YOU......

AND. RUBS. UP. AGAINST. YOU......

you must immediately change your clothes

AND take a shower.

And, I mean IMMEDIATELY.

Oh, it is soooo, soooo disgusting.

Alrighty then, I made it through being ranch hand for a day

and had a renewed sense of appreciation

for what the Tank does.

Babies love the confines of a tight area.

Milling around acting like they had done nothing wrong.

Just like a goat.

As a matter of fact,

later that very day I had that sense of appreciation

all over.....as those damn darn goats got out again.

And, that 2nd time two of the teenagers,

males (was there any question?),

decided that they didn't want to be corralled.

After about 45 minutes I got them in threatening them that

 I could just shoot them.

Look at that precious little male juvenile delinquent.

I warned all of them as I was walking

through the herd to go back to the house

that I would bring my gun (yes, I have a gun)

with me the next time.

I feel certain they got the message

and I don't expect any problems in the future.

it's hard to see the red arrow,

but it's pointing at one of my ideas of their escape routes.

Goat ranching??

Easy peasy.

Thanks for taking the time to read my blog!!    

I really enjoy all of your comments so if you

want to leave one, I'd love it!

           Jan

Nothing much cuter than a baby goat.