I'm sorry, goats

Right after I wrote my last entry, the 10th installment in my goat death march, I turned my attention to Time Magazine, and had barely read for five minutes before I reached an item about goats. It was a letter in response to the issue about the California wildfires (I am really behind in my magazine reading), with someone suggesting that communities in fire-prone areas should start stocking the land with goats, because they will eat the underbrush that fuels forest fires. Then firefighters, instead of having to worry about fires, just have to worry about taking care of the goats. I did a little internet searching and found out that this is a real idea.

Now, I won’t lie; immediately I thought about writing a story about a goat dying in a fire, but I just can’t do that to these potential heroes. I am too scared of fire to mess up my karma like that. So as much as I have enjoyed thinking of ways that goats who think they are dogs might die, I am calling an end to the series. Consider it a Thanksgiving miracle, goats. Now go eat some brush.

The Goat Who Thought He Was a Dog, Version 10

Dan was a ninth-grader at Mountain Town High School. He excelled in the sciences and wanted to be a doctor someday. His biology teacher, Mr. Fezziwig, was his favorite teacher, and biology was the one class of the day where Dan could forget his problems and have confidence in himself.

There was only one time other than biology when Dan could forget his problems, and that was when he was hanging out with his goat, Chester. Chester was a goat who thought he was a dog, and he was Dan’s steady companion. They’d take walks around the lake and play fetch, and Chester was a loyal friend to Dan. Dan liked to feed Chester lollipops, which Chester would eat, stick and all.

Mr. Fezziwig, Dan’s favorite teacher, was an alcoholic who drank away the money from the school that he was supposed to use to buy fetal pigs for dissection. Despondent, and worried about disappointing his promising students by not having the famous ninth-grade biology dissection, Mr. Fezziwig went out on the town to try and find a solution to this problem.

Mr. Fezziwig tried, with no luck, to trap some squirrels. Then he tried to steal mean old Mrs. Hensley’s cat, because no one liked her, but the cat was just as mean as she was. Then he came upon a goat, sleeping in Dan Taylor’s backyard. Too drunk to see the collar around Chester’s neck, he killed the goat and took it to the school.

Dan was worried when Chester didn’t show up for breakfast, but thought his goat was probably just out eating some grass. When he got to biology, though, he had to watch in horror as Mr. Fezziwig dissected his goat. At first, he tried to tell himself that it wasn’t Chester, but when Mr. Fezziwig was showing the students the four-chambered stomach, Dan got a glimpse of lollipop sticks and knew what had happened.

After that day, Dan gave up his dream to be a doctor, and a year later he dropped out of school altogether. He became a drunk like Mr. Fezziwig and slept on a park bench.

The Goat Who Thought He Was a Dog, Version 9

It was ten-year-old Jake’s responsibility to get the family’s animals into the barn whenever it started to rain. One day, a real downpour started, and Jake ran as fast as his little legs could carry him, ushering horses into the stables, and the cows and pigs into their pens, and the chickens to the hen house. Little Jake was soaked through and through, and all he had left was to get the dogs into the house. “Run boys,” he called, and his four dogs and his goat who thought he was a dog set off a trot beside him. The goat couldn’t run as fast as the dogs, though, and he was struck by lightning and died. Jake got in trouble since one of the animals died on his watch.

The Goat Who Thought He Was a Dog, Version 8

Marvin the Goat thought he was a dog, and followed the other dogs in the family everywhere. One day, the dogs jumped into the family swimming pool to play with the kids, so Marvin the Goat jumped too. Marvin the Goat couldn’t swim, and he wasn’t wearing flotation devices like the children, so he drowned.

The Goat Who Thought He Was a Dog, Version 7

Little Lorraine had a pet goat named Frank, who thought he was a dog. One thing that Frank was particularly good at was learning tricks. He could roll over, say hello, bleat on command, and fetch. Little Lorraine even taught Frank how to jump rope, and she showed him off at school talent shows and county fairs. People would come for miles to see Frank the Jump-Roping Goat. He won blue ribbons and trophies and made Little Lorraine oh-so-happy.

One summer, Lorraine went off to jump rope camp, to learn more techniques and tricks to teach to Frank, and also because her mother was worried that she spent too much time with her pet goat.

Without Lorraine, the goat became bored. He hopped around the yard, but it was boring to do so without Lorraine holding a jump rope for him. He tried to do some training exercises so that Lorraine would not be disappointed in his physique when she returned, but he was really lacking in motivation.

Then one day, Frank the Goat who Thought He Was a Dog, (a.k.a. Frank the Jump-Roping Goat) spied a jump rope in the sky. “It’s higher than I’m used to,” he must have thought (assuming that goats can form logical thoughts), “but it’s the only chance I have to really practice.”

Frank positioned himself under that giant jump rope, took a deep breath, and jumped. And that is how Frank the Goat became tangled in the clothes line and died.

The next year, Lorraine went to cheerleading camp.

The Goat Who Thought He Was a Dog, Version 6

Little Francie had a goat who thought he was a dog. He was out digging a hole for a bone one day, but unfortunately, Little Francie's lawn was contaminated with mercury due to a nearby smelter. The goat died from mercury poisoning, but his death served a greater purpose, for that was how the town found out about the mercury. They sued the state. That goat saved the whole town. They erected a statue of that goat in the square and changed the name of their town to Goatsville.

The Goat Who Thought He Was a Dog, Version 5

Little Janey had a pet goat named Salamander, who thought he was a dog. One day, Little Janey fell down a well. Salamander alerted Little Janey's parents about this whole well incident. Salamander was hailed as a hero. The local newspaper took a picture of Salamander and he was on the front page, with a headline that read, "Local Goat: Next Lassie?"

To celebrate Little Janey's return, her parents held a party. Unfortunately, they invited someone who really wanted to eat some goat meat. That person slaughtered Salamander and started roasting him before anyone even knew what had happened.

Little Janey's neighbors sat and waited for the goat to finish roasting. "Do you know what's ironic?" one neighbor said to another. "Lassie never actually saved Timmy from the well. Timmy never fell down any wells during the run of the iconic television show. Only Lassie and Uncle Petrie actually fell down into a well."

"Is that truly irony?" the other neighbor replied. Then the two neighbors had a discussion on the nature of irony while enjoying some goat kabobs.

The Goat Who Thought He Was a Dog, Version 4

Little Jimmy had a pet goat, who thought he was a dog. One day the goat was eating some dog food. Little did that goat know that the dog food had been poisioned by an evil witch. The goat died. Having no protection from his loyal goat, Little Jimmy was kidnapped by the evil witch and cooked into a pie.

The Goat Who Thought He Was a Dog, Version 3

Little Mikey had a pet goat, who acted like a dog. One day, the goat was acting dog-like and chasing a car. The driver of the car, who was fed up with animals chasing her car as she tried to make her way home, ran over the goat. Absolutely flattened that goat. It was not an accident. The driver of the car, who we'll call Polly, heard through the grapevine that Little Mikey was upset, but she did not care. "That's what you get for having pets," she thought. "If I had to do it again, I would do the same thing." Polly lived happily ever after.

The Goat Who Thought He Was a Dog, Version 2

Author's Note: See previous Author's Note.

The Goat Who Thought He Was a Dog, Version 2
Emmylou and Willie had a pet goat named Charlie, who thought he was a dog. He was allowed in the house, where he was most helpful at dinner. Both Emmylou and Willie were picky eaters and liked to feed the food they did not want to an animal under the dinner table. Dogs had also proved to be too picky, but Charlie, proving true the stereotype that a goat will eat anything, was very accommodating with everything that was passed to him.

Emmylou and Willie also had an aunt named Hilda, who kind of resembled Charlie the Goat, although not in personality. Where Charlie the goat was loving, affectionate, and generally accepting of anything the children might do, their Aunt Hilda was a condescending, judgmental, and often very cruel aunt to the young children.

For example, Aunt Hilda had a habit of telling the children to try not to look so ugly, right before a photograph was snapped. Emmylou and Willie were in a lot of photographs where, if the picture had been taken two seconds earlier, they would have looked as happy and content as two children who own a goat usually look. Instead, those photographs depicted children who were about to commence wailing.

Hilda did not live nearby, so she did not visit very often, but when she did, the kids tried hard to be on their best behavior, so as not to provoke her. She complained about everything, but the children didn’t mind, so long as she wasn’t complaining about them. Hilda was on a rant about how awful the hors d’oeuvres were when she saw Charlie the Goat. Charlie, who was supposed to be locked in Emmylou’s room, had smelled the deviled eggs and was now headed straight for them.

“What is that thing?” Hilda shrieked.

“It’s our pet, Charlie,” Emmylou said.

“Well, why is he in the house?” Hilda shrieked (it should be noted that most things that Hilda said sounded like a shriek).

“Well, he thinks he is a dog, so we let him come in like a dog,” said little Willie.

“That is absolutely disgusting. Goats aren’t clean,” Hilda shrieked.

“No, he’s very…”

But Emmylou did not get to finish telling her aunt that Charlie the Goat was a clean animal, for Hilda had started shrieking that she would not stay in the house another minute if that goat was in the house. She would not come back if those children even had a goat, because they were probably crawling with goat germs as well.

Emmylou and Willie were overjoyed. Hilda would not be able to come back to the house as long as Charlie was there. Charlie was their protector, their talisman. What a great day!

But the children’s father was motioning for Willie to come near. “Willie, we’re going to have to put that goat down.”

“But why?” Willie whispered. “He’s not doing anything wrong, and I don’t care if Aunt Hilda never comes back.”

“Aunt Hilda is family,” his father said. “While I agree that it’s an unfair trade, we have to respect our family’s wishes. Go get my shotgun and kill your goat.”

Emmylou wept and threw her arms around Charlie the Goat’s neck. “Please don’t kill my goat,” she cried over and over again, even as her father dragged the goat outside into a field. “Do it, son,” he whispered to Willie. Willie took aim, and through the tears in his eyes, he shot that goat who thought he was a dog.

All through dinner, Emmylou and Willie sobbed, but they did learn a valuable lesson that day. Families are crap. It’s better to have a pet goat and never have to answer to your family. So, when Emmylou and Willie grew up, neither married nor had children, and they both lived together with a goat. Since their parents had died long before, and because Hilda did not care for them, there was no one to bury Emmylou and Willie when they died. And to this day, no one knows where they are buried.

The Goat Who Thought He Was a Dog, Version 1

Author's Note: During the last month, I have seen so many different kinds of animals around my house and in this area in general. Just ten minutes ago, coming back from lunch, I saw a groundhog. But the most exciting animal is one that lives right next door. It is a goat that my neighbors keep as a pet. "It's a goat that thinks he's a dog," my mother said. "That sounds like a children's book," I said. Here is the first draft of my attempt to write said children's book. I'm taking applications for illustrators.

The Goat Who Thought He Was a Dog, Version 1
Mabel and Johnny couldn’t quite remember when they got Marty as a pet, for they were slow children with poor retention skills. But ever since they could remember (it had to be at least a week, perhaps a month), they had enjoyed Marty’s company. He would come up and rub against their backs while they played boards games, hoping to be petted. He would jump around and run in circles and make the children laugh so hard they cried. He curled up in their laps and watched wrestling shows with them. Mabel would tie her dolls to his back and pretend that he was a horse, while Johnny would pretend that Marty was the finest hunting dog in the county while he shot at tin cans with his BB gun in the back yard.

In school, Mabel drew a picture of Marty when the class was asked to paint their best friends. “Oh my, no,” said the art teacher, who was well aware how far Mabel lagged behind the other children in her class. “I’m sorry, Mabel, but dogs don’t have horns.”

“Oh, I know,” said Mabel, right for once. “This is my pet, Marty the goat. He thinks he is a dog.”

Mabel and Johnny had three other dogs, Rowdy, Roddy, and Piper, and since the day that he had arrived, Marty had run around with the dogs like he was one of them. He wore a collar like them and he ate the same food as them. He chased cars, sticks, and balls.

Because Mabel and Johnny’s parents were, like their children, rather slow, they never had Rowdy, Roddy, or Piper vaccinated for rabies. One day, a rabid raccoon bit the dogs. And by dogs, I mean the real dogs, not the goat who thought he was a dog. He, luckily, was not bitten. However, once the dogs entered the second stage of rabies, otherwise known as the excitative stage, they mauled Marty the goat to death.

Mabel and Johnny cried and cried for their lost pets. Then, as children do, especially these children, they forgot all about them. To this day, no one knows where they are buried.