The Nerd gets exasperated with me at times, but in good fun.  I am constantly asking him if I can have a goat.  The two things I ask for the most are an old school bus (a la The Partridge Family) and a pet goat.  I say I would name the goat David Cassidy.

Is that too much to ask?

Now, I don’t think that our tiny trailer with a small bit of yard would be the proper environment for a goat.  In fact, I know it wouldn’t and I’m pretty sure the landlord has restrictions regarding pets.  Not to mention the fact that our betta fish died after only 3 months (Although, he was lazy.  Perhaps I’ll tell a story about him this month.)

I ask for a goat often, but in all truth I don’t think I’d actually want one.  In fact, I think it would intimidate me, and here is why: I had a traumatic experience with a goat in kindergarten.

My class was on a lovely field trip at the time.  We were in the midst of a pen in a petting zoo.  Sheep, pigs, and other adorable farm animals were abounding.  But the largest population was that of the goats.

I was standing next to one of these fine fellows, admiring his hooves and his horns, when the unthinkable happened.

A little back story – I was a rather anxious child.  In fact, when I was older and studying psychology I decided that I had suffered from some mild Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (Professors were always telling us not to self-diagnose, and to remember that just because one or two symptoms from the DSM fit us, it did not a diagnosis make.  But, most of them?  Plus, I had some weird obsessions.)

Back to the petting zoo.  That day we were all wearing giant name tags.  I mean the kind that looked like a blue ribbon a quilter would win at the fair.  And we had been instructed to keep our name tags on.  Under penalty of death, if I remember correctly.  So, I can’t tell you how terrifying it was when the goat standing next to me decided mine should be his lunch.

Now, this name tag was attached with a safety-pin.  It was not going to go anywhere without taking me with it.  I froze.  I had no idea what to do, and the goat was having a grand ole time with his laminated feast.  I was terrified that he would eat the entire thing and start on my clothes.  I was worried perhaps he would bite me.  But, most of all – I knew I would get in trouble for no longer having my name tag, so I freaked.

I think that my brain buried most of this memory, because I can’t tell you how this story ended.  I don’t remember if a teacher intervened or if Mr. Goat finished my name tag off and went looking for dessert in someone else’s pockets.  All I remember is the sheer terror in that moment when I thought I would get in trouble with my teacher.

And I still think I want a goat?  What does that say about me?


4 thoughts on “31 DAYS OF BLOGGING – DAY 3

  1. Pingback: 31 Days of Blogging – My Theme and Day 1 | warrior hippie

  2. Pingback: 31 Days of Blogging – Day 6 | warrior hippie

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