It’s been raining here in western Oklahoma for about a week. We’ve been stuck inside and I’m starting to understand why Jack Nicholson went crazy in “The Shining.” Yesterday the boys and I took a driving tour of scenic Elk City, OK just because we needed to get out of the house.
When we pulled back into the driveway something caught my eye as I took the boys out of the car. At first I thought it was the neighbor’s dog, coming to “visit” my bale of hay with pumpkins on it. Then I realized that this was much bigger than the neighbor’s dog. And it wasn’t visiting our hay, it was eating it. It was a giant goat!
People, we do not live in the middle of nowhere. We live within the “city” limits. Granted, our community is very far from anything else, but to come home and find a goat standing in your front yard, eating your Fall décor is still a little shocking.
Wesley was terrified. He is afraid of everything with four legs from a teacup poodle to a brontosaurus, including apparently, goats. I walked over to the hay bale and wondered what the protocol is for the situation. Do I call animal control or try to milk it? Just then a little old woman and a little old man came hobbling over to our yard. The woman had some kind of goat treats and the man had a little rope. They lured the goat back across the street and into their front door without saying anything to Wesley or me as we stared in silence.
Now if our lawnmower ever breaks down, we can just borrow the neighbor’s goat. Perfect.