Sunday, April 02, 2017

just kidding -- this time


Christy loves animals. Of all sorts.

When I returned from Australia, I discovered that a small pack of dogs would line up at the front door each day. They looked as if they were waiting in line at a depression-era soup kitchen.

And they were.

Even though every dog amongst them was chorizo-fat, they had managed to convince Christy that they were poor street dogs with no homes and certainly no regular meals. She had been feeding them table scraps and dog biscuits.

But that was not the oddest supplicant. I have written before about the goats that hang out in the lot across the street (stop kidding around). The flock has ranged from one to five. There is an occasional culling when one (or more) heads off to the birria pot.

The longest-lasting resident has been a brown and white nanny goat. Somehow, she figured out that Barco's dog biscuits were just what a goat needed. I would give her one now and then. Not being very original with names, I started calling her "Nanny."

She tolerated Barco's antics. Even after she gave birth to a kid, she would let Barco sniff around. Eventually, Barco and the kid grew up together. I tried videoing their antics, but both were far too swift to be confined within a viewfinder.

Barco died. And the kid, now grown into young adulthood, either ran away and joined a circus, or was sold off to a butcher. I like to think the former is true.

While I was in Australia, Christy decided to adopt Nanny. She took Nanny water. She fed her vegetable peelings and watermelon. And she greatly increased her dog biscuit intake. My front door does not open without a tethered Nanny dashing toward it -- usually bleating for attention.

Yesterday afternoon, there was a new kid on the block. I knew Nanny was pregnant -- very pregnant. But I had no idea just how pregnant she was.

Without any notice (or at least none that I could discern), Nanny decided it was time to get the furry beast inside her out into the world. I have always been amazed at how quickly kids accommodate to their new environment. They are helpless at birth.

But, within an hour, it was up and capable of running at an unsteady speed across the lot. Of course, in the wild, there would not be a group of admiring neighbors standing around. It would be a pack of wild dogs or the odd lone great cat.

That is not the life this goat will lead. It will enjoy a somewhat sheltered life (even though Christy will not be here to spoil it) until it is time to send it off to market.

Until then, it will be fun watching it grow up.




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