He’s a goat who’s had a bit of a weight
problem since the cast came off. A free
spirit, butting his way through life. Normal
laws of physics don’t apply to goats but
the old donkey needs to eat in peace, so
I slip my fingers into his collar to move him.
He comes to my side but pulls forward,
running now, straight ahead with quick short
steps in a tilting side-to-side speed waddle.
I know better than to pull back, so I scurry
next to him in an exaggerated race-walk. Some
might call it a side-to-side speed waddle.
Suddenly, the goat turns ninety-degrees in
and my knee makes contact. Up-ended
in a stumble, my feet are thrown high. The
goat hurries a tight circle, taking my arm
along as my body whiplashes through the air.
It would have been a good time to let go.
Crash-landed on soft ground with my hand
twisted into his collar, too tight to pull out.
Deflated ego wondering now what? How
far could he drag me? I see the bottom
of his chin, his collar cutting tight, as he
considers his options under a ruminant sky.
Love this!! Brought me right back to a wild ride “Wilbur” gave me when I slipped my fingers under his collar to help him see that getting his hooves trimmed is a lovely idea. Whoa, can they move and dart! My shoulder has never been the same. 🙂
Oh, yes, Arthur adores a hoof trim, too. Thanks, Joyce, and give Wilbur a nod from here.
Sort of the same routine with my dog a few years ago – hopefully this round of PT will “heal” my arm & shoulder!! Letting Suzy gallop (!) to the end of a 25 ft lungeline before my brain realized I should possibly tell her to WAIT? Not good. I sympathize.
Are you OK?
Thanks for your concern, Barbara. I’m fine, tough as a goat myself.
Hahahahaha!!
First smile of the day. The picture in my head is hysterical!
Hope your thumb is ok:)
Score! Thanks, my humble goal met, I sure smiled writing it. Thanks, Brenda.
Hello Anna,
LOL,… I laughed out loud reading this. Conjures up quite a picture,…
Usually your poetry wakes me from unconsciousness and often moves me to tears,…
Good that you are fine, and the incident served as poetic inspiration,… LOL,…
I like the idea of writing poetry for people who don’t like poetry. This one might be in that category. Thanks, Corinne.
Your gift of words is a gift for all of us … we can see it, smell it, hear it, feel it, everything but taste it. No offense, but I would have paid good money to be there … I could use a good belly laugh. Obviously, I hope all your body parts are okay and I have no doubt your pride is intact. Thanks for a good start to a beautiful day.
I think I miss a good source of income by not having my farm under full surveillance. It was my beer thumb, but I’m fine. Thanks, Sherry.
A surveillance video of a farm like yours should be required viewing…both for the laughs and the warning. Beer thumb protection sounds like a money-making tagline to me…
I could sell the video to women so they could show it, with all our inhabitants, to their husband with the tagline: “It could be worse; you could be married to her. Let me have the damn pony. “
YES! I’d buy it but sadly, I’m a little late…my husband just moved out. It was even his idea to rescue Dodger. I think he thought that’s something one does, not become.
Sorry, Michelle.
Oh how I want a goat!! Even after reading your wonderful words lol. But, alas, I fear it’s either a goat or a husband, so I will choose the man. Thanks for the laughs
Same difference. (Sorry, couldn’t resist.) Thanks, Jane. (and I live with an indoor “goat” myself.)
hahahaha!!
We were owned by an extra large LaMancha in years past. Ever so thankful that horses aren’t able to use their bodies with such leverage and torque as goats can! Thanks for a good morning laugh, but hoping you don’t have an injured hand!!
It’s that low center of gravity! I’m fine, worthy of living with goats.
Vivid images in my mind as I go through both horror and hilarity, but most importantly I’m glad you’re ok after it all.
Life with goats has it’s ups and downs. 🙂 Thanks, Celeste.
A wild event with a happy ending. 😀 For a while, I was going to welcome you to the broken bone club.
It was a forgiving stretch of ground… and then I might have padding on my side. 🙂
Hahaha, glad you’re okay but I can so relate! I used to think I’d expire pushing a overloaded wheel barrow to the manure pile but now I do believe I’ll end up being done in by goats – and my two are minis!
Right? I’ve outlived several goats at this point and I still think they will out-survive me. You are so right. Much more dangerous than wheel barrows. Much more fun, too. Great comment, Sherry.
Wow! Seriously? Why did you not let go?? Raise goats myself.. let go?
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More of a question… why does my horse turn away from me and look out in the arena after I ride? We wait there for a few before she decides to leave the arena.
Without seeing it, I can’t say for sure. It could mean a few things. It is a calming signal, that’s true.
Adventures with goats, a sure way to change one’s perspective! Glad to know you’re OK!
They are the antidote to Type A personalities. I’ll always need one around. Thanks, Judy.
He looks like a very clean goat.
He’s slick! Things don’t stick to him… and he doesn’t like mud. So he does have that going for him. 🙂
Ouch!!!
So it goes… 🙂