Poor goat

It's not unusual for us to find random animals in our yard. So yesterday when I went outside to set the sprinklers in the morning, I wasn't too shocked to find a little black goat eating my pansies. I got the broom and tried shooing the animal away from my flowers, but it was being stubborn, so I ended up pushing it with the broom about 15 feet before it fell over.

"Darn lazy goat," I thought as I readied the hose and sprayed the thing down while it made some feeble attempts at standing back up. I finally gave up and packed up the girls for a quick run to town.

When we got home, the goat hadn't moved. And when I checked on it an hour later, it still hadn't moved. That's when I realized that this goat wasn't merely being obstinate.

For one thing, the goat's ... um, output was unlike the other little goat pebbles we've found in our yard from time to time. And, at one point, I went outside and saw that magpies had flocked to the goat. After chasing them away, I checked on our visitor and saw that the tip of its ear had been pecked at by the pesky birds.

At this point, I started to panic. The people who own the goat have a farm across the ditch from us. They don't live in our neighborhood. They come by every day to feed the animals and check on their crops, but no cars had been parked at the gate that day, and I have no prior experience in nursing sick/dying goats. I thought about calling one of our other neighbors over to help me, but I wasn't sure what I needed help with. "Help me put this goat out of its misery"? "Help me bottle-feed this goat antibiotics"? "Help me pick up this goat and deposit it across the ditch so that it can die comfortably in its own home"?

In the end, I kept checking on the goat on an hourly basis, updated Seth at work via IM and my mom via the telephone, and tried giving the little guy some water (which it never drank).

I can't believe how much this little goat's welfare consumed me yesterday. When I realized that something was really wrong with the guy and I remembered my attempts at getting rid of it, I actually started to tear up.

Finally around 4:30, I spotted a white car at the gate. I literally ran along our side of the ditch until I was directly across the ditch from one of the farmers. "I think one of your goats is in our yard," I shouted to him. "I tried shooing it away, but it just lay down and has been there ever since."

"Is it the little black one?" he asked. "Yes," I said. As he approached the goat, I told him, "I don't know anything about goats, but I think it's sick." He picked it up by its horns, looked it over and said, "Oh, yeah. It looks like it is sick. We'll get it some medicine. Sorry about that."

He hauled it up into his arms and carried it back through the gate onto their farm. I heaved the biggest sigh of relief.

Seth has speculated that the "medicine" of which our neighbor spoke was merely a kind way of saying that he'd be putting the goat down. I don't know either way, but I honestly hope that dumb goat can get better.

And the next time I have a stray animal in my yard, I'll have second thoughts before I hose it down.