Pet Goat Amuses as Starter Farm Animal
(Page 2 of 3)
Sharon K. Taylor
January/February 2010
When Winchell was about 6 months old, I was compelled to leave town for the weekend. I could take my dog with me, but I felt, with some certainty, I would not find a motel that would accept a goat. I decided to go back to the farm where I had first purchased Winchell and see if they would keep him for the weekend. “No problem,” said the cheery owner. After all, she had 100 other goats.
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When I returned Sunday evening to retrieve Winchell, the woman was standing with a somewhat put-out posture, arms crossed, sporting an unhappy frown.
“So did Winchell miss me?” I said innocently as I approached her. “I hope he wasn’t any trouble.” What trouble could one goat be in a herd of 100?
The woman mumbled something I didn’t quite hear, then pointed to the roof of her barn. There on top stood a triumphant Winchell, surrounded by a couple dozen goats. Apparently, Winchell had taught her goats how to make their way to the roof by jumping from the ground to a wagon, to an old tractor, to the top of a water tank and eventually to the barn roof.
“I’ve never had a goat on my barn roof before he arrived,” the woman said in a scolding tone. “Don’t ever bring him around here again!”
I didn’t have many visitors those days, but the local children were unable to resist Winchell’s intriguing antics and soon discovered he loved to push with his rock-hard head. He twirled around on his hind legs, then came at them as if he were going to knock them over. Winchell always stopped at the last moment and gently pushed on their legs.
One day, I received a phone call from a woman I had never met.
“This is Mrs. Vechy down the road,” she said. “My son Tim is having a birthday party this weekend.”
Finally, I thought, I had broken the curse of the new resident and was being invited to a party.
“Tim was wondering if Winchell might be able to come.”
Great. The community was embracing my goat; I apparently was still considered an outsider. That Saturday afternoon, I sat at home alone knowing full well that Winchell was having the time of his life.