You Can’t Always Get What You Want

He just melts my heart he’s so cute.

In the perfect world in my head, here’s what I imagined I would be writing now:

“We picked up our beautiful new baby goat in the late afternoon. By the time we got home the sky was aglow with a beautiful sunset.  We opened the barnyard gate and coaxed the little guy inside.  Brandy immediately came over, gave him a sniff then licked his head and proclaimed he was her little guy now.  She draped her big white neck over his tiny body, lead him to the shed and tucked him in for the night, never leaving his side.  The angels sang.”

Well, the first sentence was right.  We did pick up a beautiful baby goat in the late afternoon. Then, all hell broke loose.

The skies darkened more and more on the drive home.  By the time we hit the driveway the air was thick with impending rain.  I carried him into the barnyard…and Brandy proceeded to head butt him up one side and down the other.  It got ugly immediately.  As I’m desperately trying to separate them, it starts to hail.  Then the heavens open and the downpour begins.  We take cover under the roof outside the shed with me between a poor bleating baby and devil-possessed Brandy.

Do. Not. Come. Closer.

I patiently explained to Brandy that this was her new little buddy, a 12 week old beautiful Alpine goat named Jester (born on April Fools Day).  I told her got him solely so she would have a playmate in the barnyard.  She was having none of my explanations.  It was obvious her feelings toward this baby were NOT warm and fuzzy.  She did not say thank you.

Jester and I retreated from the barnyard in the downpour and he spent his first night here in his dog crate in the shed storage room.  I checked on him all night.  His pitiful bleats were heartbreaking.

Poor baby.

That was Friday.  Today is Monday.  We’ve survived, all of us, but we’re not out of the woods yet.  I don’t know what the goats are thinking, but I’m both physically and emotionally exhausted.  It’s really, really not they way I planned this.

PLEASE?  Can I come be with you?  PLEASE?

Nonetheless, I’ve learned a lot about goats in the past two days.  I put Brandy’s collar on the little guy.  Don’t know exactly how this is supposed to help, but that’s the advice I’ve gotten. I’ve also dusted off my trusty spray bottle.  One quick squirt stops Brandy in her tracks.  And now he has a protected space in the barnyard he can run to when he’s being bothered.

The first signs of friendship.

Things are slowly getting better.  Brandy’s personal space needs are shrinking.   He can now stand four feet away from her and she won’t charge him – most times.  She lets him lay quietly outside the shed door.  Maybe tomorrow she might even let him stick his head in.

This will do for now, I guess.

I have hope that in a couple of months I might even be able to laugh a bit when I look back at this chaos and turmoil.  Maybe.

Now that more like it!

Somewhere in this saga I think there’s a life lesson for me.  I get so disappointed when my expectations don’t jive with reality.   I’m the screenwriter for this story, damn it!   I want it to happen the way I envisioned it – sweet and fun and happy.  Instead, I’ve got this grand struggle on my hands.

Reality is telling me to let go of my perfect little dream and make this work.  My goal of having two happy goats will happen.  I’m gonna make sure of that.  I look forward to telling you more about this sweet little guy and how we worked it out.

Maybe, like Mick Jagger says, “But if you try sometimes, well you might find, you get what you need.”

We’ll get through this together, little one.   Awww, yeah.

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