The Goat: Stephanie’s Version

Goats Are Bad M’Kay!!

The year was 1998 and we were living in Maryland. We were living in a house that was on a few acres of land. As a family, we had been talking about getting some kind of farm animal since we the room for one. I think the original idea was to get chickens since they would give us eggs but eventually, we landed on getting a goat.

Keep in mind that the only we had ever owned were a cat, a bunny, and an assortment of rodents. The day we got the goat was a day like any other. We all went off to school none the wiser that our parents would have a surprise waiting for us when we got home. Little did we know, this surprise would change our lives forever.

Hello Billy Goat

We pulled into the driveway after school that day and there he was, tied up to a tree in the yard. I was so exited about the new addition to the family that I ran out to the tree eager to get to know him. I asked if I could walk him over to the pen that we had set up for him out back. As I started to walk him back, everyone else ventured back into the house. The goat must have sensed that he and I were alone because this is when he decides to make his move.

He waits until my back is turned and before I can even process what is happening, he rears back and wraps his front legs around my waist and starts going to town. Now, what I haven’t told you about this goat is that he is no small goat. He is large and has big horns, which are a little intimidating when he is forcing himself upon you. Clearly, I am not in any way prepared to handle the situation I find myself in and I start to panic.

I’m Not That Kind Of Girl!

I start looking around for anything or anyone that can save me from this horned beast. I’m scanning my surroundings when I see them. My dad and big sister, standing in the house watching the scene unfold from the window. Surely, they will be running out to rescue me any second now. But what is this is see? Are they laughing? Yes, they are. At this point, I start to cry because what 12-year-old wouldn’t when being assaulted by a large goat and you think no one is going to save you?

My dad very quickly realizes that I do not find this funny and rushes out to help. He grabs to the goat by the horns (which I had no idea was an option) and drags him off me. And that’s how the story of the goat begins. That’s right buckle up folks, this story is just getting started.

Over the next few months this goat caused us nothing but trouble. Pretty early on we noticed that he would get, shall we say excited, and pee on his beard. My parents called a veterinarian out to check him out because we thought there was something wrong with him. Turns out, he was not neutered, and he was trying to find himself a lady friend. We basically ended up with a feisty old goat. He also stayed up most of the night crying which almost made me feel bad for him.

As If Assault Wasn’t Bad Enough

Then there were the times when I got poison ivy from him. Not once, not twice, but three times. Once, I got it on my face. If you have ever had poison ivy, you know how miserable I was. He also had a bad habit of breaking free from his pen and going for adventures. Our neighbors were not to thrilled about that.

On one such occasion, I had a friend over and we were hanging out in the back yard near the woods and the goat managed to get free. I was not about to take the chance that I would be assaulted yet again by him so I grabbed my friend and told her to start climbing the nearest tree we could find. Now, when I say tree, you may be picturing a tall, sturdy tree with lots of good branches for climbing on and you would be wrong. This tree was no more than a trunk that stuck up a few feet from the ground and split into two Y shape.

Lucky for us help was nearby, and the goat was wrangled back into his pen. There came a time when we decided that we were ready to give up on our adventure of owning a goat and try to find him a good home where he could live out the rest of his days with his own kind. My parents tried everything to get rid of him. I should mention that we got the goat free of charge, which in hindsight, was a huge red flag. Turns out, no one wants more than one male goat and apparently everyone already had one.

What To Do?

We could not give this goat away. It was starting to look like we were going to be stuck with him for the rest of his life. That’s when it happened. One fateful day, the goat broke out of his pen yet again and went on a little adventure to the neighbor’s house. The goat must have been feeling a little frisky because he found the fake deer in their yard and started trying to make special friends with one of them.

Our neighbor sees this happening and he is not going to just sit by while the goat assaults his lawn décor. He walks out and grabs the goat and pulls him off the deer. This angered the goat. How dare this man interrupt his special time with his new friend. He was not about to let that slide so he put is head down and charged. He hit our neighbor right in the leg. Now, our neighbor was not about to take that from this beast so, he went in house, got his gun, got that goat in his sights, and fired away. Just like that, it was finally over.

Thank You Mr. Connelly

Our neighbor felt terrible to came over to the house to explain what had just happened. I’m sure he expected my parents would be angry at him for killing our pet but what I’m sure he didn’t expect was to be thanked. He had ended our nightmare and we were grateful we no longer had to worry about what kind of trouble the goat was going to cause next. The only thing we had to do now was figure out what to do with the body.

Anytime one of our rodents would pass away, my parents would put them in a box, take them out behind the wood pile in the back yard and bury them. If you can do that with a rodent, then why not a goat? Minus the box of course. So, my parents set about the task of digging a hole in the woods big enough for a large goat with large horns. Only one small problem, they couldn’t get the hole deep enough to fit the goat and his horns. So, the horns had to come off.

The goat is buried in one hole and his horns are in another and that is how the story of the goat comes to an end. He did have a name by the way. His name was Billy, a name that came with him, not one we chose. To this day not one person in our family refers to him by name. He will forever be know to us as the goat.