The Joy of Being a Goat

My goats are happy. And this is not just because I have decided to call my soap business Happy Goats Soap. They are truly happy. I can see this in the way my little buck Luke bounds out of the barn in the morning; his little tail is wagging so fast it is a blur. He runs across the concrete, leaps into the air at the edge kicking his heels. He hits the driveway and sproings (have you ever seen an antelope run - this is sproining to me) down to his pen. Michael my other buck is a bit more attached to me so while he is just as exited to get out of the barn after he does his leap off of the concrete he keeps running back and forth trying to decide whether to stay with me or go butt heads with Luke. Both of them are almost dancing because they know they are going to get their grain. Grain is crack for goats; they will literally eat themselves to death on grain if it is not locked up.

They make me smile with the absolute joy in their movements. They make me smile with their happiness to see me each morning. They make me smile with their antics. No matter how bad a day I am having I know I can go outside and four goats will come trotting to me maaaaing softly. They love to be pet; especially to have their tails scratched. They are really like dogs except for the inability to house train them. They are very indiscriminate in where they poop. Anywhere, anytime. It is very entertaining when they poop while running. But I digress....

I am a city girl. I was born in Philadelphia. I grew up there. My family moved to a more rural area when I was a teenager but I have always felt like a city girl. I followed my husband and here I find myself - in the country. With goats. And soon with chickens. I love spending time with my goats and I wish I had their simple joys. But I don't want to sleep in the barn.