Animal Farm

"I don't see the goats," I observed as we drove into the farm yard on Howard's daily trek to tend his prize possessions.  They had been getting out of their enclosure, despite our repeated attempts to block every vulnerable possibility in the fence.  We were prepared for the eventuality that the young kids had wandered off and gotten lost.

Just then I thought I was seeing an apparition as a white, feathery ball tumbled out of a tree! It was followed by a black-and-white bundle.  The goats!  They had emerged from the canopy of leaves and were now trotting nimbly down the slanted trunk!  I burst out laughing at their antics!  They ran to us eagerly, happy to see us.

We were preparing to go out of town on the somber mission to our grandson's funeral after the 28-year-old's untimely passing.  My husband had scheduled a man to look after the goats periodically, but first we secured their pen once again.  That didn't prevent a couple of calls to Tennessee with the tidings that the escape artists were at it again.  They were put finally in a grassy area where, at last notice, they were content and well-contained.

On our way home, we have been visiting with our daughter, Amy, in Georgia.  When we arrived late one night, I was surprised to see their long-time pet, Scamp, happily coming to greet us.  The last I heard, he was on his last legs, so to speak, waylaid by a mysterious illness. But in the darkness he looked  as fit as I remembered.

In answer to my queries the next day, Amy related the saga of Scamp's turnaround.  He had been pitifully ill, not responding to any treatment, and they were regretfully considering the option of having the 12-year-old dog put down.  The kids protested, but everyone knew their beloved pet was dying.

Then one day her husband announced: "Scamp is not going to die." Then he confessed that, unable to see him suffer any longer, he had given the dog a massive dose of muscle relaxers and pain pills, confident Scamp would be out of his misery we he got back.  He was astounded to see Scamp up and around, if drunkenly staggering, when the family returned from church! Scamp has continued to improve daily, and except for arthritic stiffness, he is every bit his old self!

Animals are a marvel and a mystery.  In Scamp's case, I guess the old adage, "Whatever doesn't kill you, makes you stronger," is true.  I only hope that is true of us and our goats!