Toads Are Cute Forever; Chickens Are Cute A little While; Goats Are Goats

 The following is again a fictionalized version of Goat (From ALL ROADS LEAD SOMEWHERE). But he was real and a part of our lives. As they say on Dragnet, "The story is true. The names have been changed to protect the innocent. Goat indeed twirled Arville around on his horns.  

                                                                   GOAT

        Opal sat on the chopping block in the chip yard until the goat pushed her off.  She uprighted herself and scratched his neck. He nuzzled closer to her. He was a wonderful goat. He walked around with his head lowered, butting his big horns gently against anyone who came near. Even though he had never hurt anyone Opal's mother was afraid of him. But Opal and her sister Kaye and her brother, Carl, knew Goat only wanted to be friends.

            "Op--al",  her mother called as she looked out the kitchen door. "I sent you to fetch wood, not to play with Goat." Opal tried to pretend she had not heard her mother, but to little avail. "Now you quit playin' with Goat and git that wood in here."

            Opal gave Goat a gentle push and began to collect the wood. But Goat,

unimpressed with the immediacy of her task, wanted to play. He butted her in the rear, causing her to drop her armful of wood. "Now Goat, you stop that. I mean it.  If you don't you'll git me a switchin', and then I won't play with you no more."

            Goat stood with tilted head and watched as she picked up her wood again.  He followed her to the house and would have entered with her had not Marthie, standing near the stove, said, "Opal, don't you go lettin' that nasty goat in this house."

            Opal closed the door in Goat's face. "You go pester Kaye a while," she said. The goat with no intention of leaving stood with his nose against the screen door. Opal shook her head, and feeling that Goat was not impressed she shook her finger. "Now you better wait right there," she commanded. Then to her mother she said, "Mommie, he ain't no nasty goat.  He's a nice goat."

            "It ain't fittin' for a goat to be hanging around a house like he was a cat or dog.  Goats is farm animals and  they belong out in the pasture or in the barn like other farm animals."

            "But Goat's different.  He ain't no plain animal."

            Goat stood at the door, proving his superiority over ordinary farm animals. What other animal including goats could push open the door at will and enter a house, with no consideration of the damage he might do?  With tilted head Goat watched as Opal dumped her wood in the big box. "And we need to fetch water," Marthie said. She took the wooden bucket and handed the zinc one to Opal.  Goat stepped aside and watched as they went to the well.  Then he gingerly hooked his horn in the screen door handle, opened the door enough to put in his foot and swing it wide open. He went in, as he had done on several occasions, and wandered through the kitchen to the front room where he stood surveying his surroundings.

            He did not see Marthie come in with her water; he did not see her enter the front room with her broom, but he soon learned she was there. For she swung her broom wildly at him and screamed, "Git out'a here. You git out, you nasty goat."  Goat moved aside but Marthie came after him with her broom poised to strike. He jumped on the bed and stood tenuously on the unstable spring and mattress. Spreading his feet and getting his footing he defiantly faced Marthie. She swung her broom at him again and again, but he tossed his head from side to side foiling her attempts to hit him.

            "Op--al," she called. "Go git Daddy right now to git this goat nasty out' a here."

            Opal came at once to see and could not help but laugh, but her laughter was cut off when Marthie gave her a swift swat with the broom. "Now you go git Daddy or git that 'blamed' goat off my bed."

            Opal knew she needed to act for her mother never called anything "blamed' unless the situation was serious. She reached for Goat's horn. He lowered his head and under her urging stepped off the bed and followed her outside. She lectured him for a long time about riling her mother. Goat tilted his head and listened, but he seemed unimpressed.

            When Lester came from his farm chores Marthie, in the middle of frying potatoes for supper, told him in great detail her woes with Goat. "And he was right in the middle of the bed, daring me to try to git him off."

            Opal watched her father and when he smiled broadly she broke into laughter. He joined her. Marthie was not amused. She banged her spatula hard against the cast iron skillet. "It ain't funny."

            "He's just a pet, Marthie. He wouldn't hurt a fly. You know that."

            "No, I don't know nothin' like that. All I know is he's a danger. The way he comes at you, he'd scare the livin' daylights out'a anybody. And he jumped right up on the bed.  And this ain't the first time he done it. You can't tell me there's any goat that's got any business on the bed."

            "Marthie," Lester said, "He does that to you because he knows you're afraid of him. He just does it to you, Marthie. Look at the way he plays with Opal and Kaye and Carl.  Look at the way he picks up Carl on his horns and spins him around.  It's a big game. With everybody but you he's as gentle as can be. Why I reckon he's ever bit as gentle Wimpydog ever was. And you're not scared of him, are you?"

            "And Goat's a whole lot a better pet, even than Whimpydog," Opal said.

            Carl and Kaye,  home from playing in the creek, listened as they wiped mud from their feet.  Carl said as he entered the kitchen, "Mommie, I like Goat.  He lets me ride on his back and he can lift me right off'n the ground with his horns and swing me around like I'm flying"

            "Me too,"  Kaye said. "You ought to see us spin, Mommie."

            Marthie did not need to hear this a second time. "I never heard of anything so ridiculous. You could git hurt doin' that. I'm tellin' you, Lester, that goat is nothing but trouble. And I'm tellin' you another thing-- if he don't stay out'a this house, I'm gonna take care of it myself.  I'm gonna feed him rat poison."

            "No," Opal and Kaye screamed. Carl began to cry.

            Lester said, "Now kids, Mommie ain't really going to poison Goat. But you're going to have to keep Goat out'a the house. Now do you think you can do that?" He smiled weakly. Three children waited for what he would say next.  "Now Marthie, the kids is goin' to take care of him. They're goin' to keep him out of the house. You can quit your worryin'  Ain't that right?." He pointed to the children waiting for their promise.

            Opal and Kaye nodded; Carl lowered his head as if he did not understand. Marthie rolled her eyes and shook her head. Lester said, "Now that's settled. You kids see that Goat stays outside where he belongs.  Right now let Mommie finish supper. Come on. you can feed the chickens while I see to the pigs. And whatever else you do, all three of you, see that Goat does not come near the door."

            No sooner had they left for their chores than Goat came to the kitchen door and stood peering inside. Marthie snarled at him. "Git away from that door or I'll git the broom to you." Goat waited. When Marthie's back was turned he caught the screen door handle with his horn and pulled. He put his foot in the narrow crack and opened the door. Marthie heard the door close and turned. "You kids git in here and git this goat or I'm goin' to put out rat poison," she screamed as she ran at him with her broom in strike position. He ran past her into the front room and  jumped onto the bed where he took his defensive pose and waited until Opal removed him. "I swear I'm gonna feed that goat rat poison," Marthie said as Opal led the goat into the yard where Carl and Kaye began to play with him.