Scary Goat Story

Goats are a problem in my yard from time to time.  Neighbors have goats.  They come into my yard looking for food.  My flowers are food. So I run after goats from time to time. Most often, they get away. If I am able to catch one, I'll tape its horns or legs with duck tape so that the owner knows he was at my place.

Yesterday I was rehearsing the band. I stepped outside, score in hand, to get something from my house. I saw a goat wandering deeper and deeper into my yard. I walked slowly behind him.  He didn't run, so I kept closing in. He headed right where I wanted him to head...into the most secure isolated corner of the yard.  I had him!

As he ran up against the fence, I grabbed back leg number one. He leapt up, but went nowhere. I grabbed back leg number two. Then I got a front leg. My music score was still in hand as well. 

As I lifted him upside down and began carrying him, something seemed wrong.  He was easy to catch. And there was a smell. I looked down at my upside down goat. He was looking up at me. Goats are not dogs. Their faces are...almost demonic. Horns.  Weird eyes. This goat had a bloody mouth. He had apparently had a battle with some cactus days earlier. There was blood. There was stench of rotting flesh. And there was no bleating. The thing just looked at me...bloody and grotesque. A horror movie in my hands.

The smell and the sight make me wince as I type this right now. I may have bad dreams about this goat. That face. That smell.

He bled on my music score.  I had to trash that.  

Next time I run after a goat, I plan on getting a good look first.   I don't want any more scary goat stories.  I'd prefer the tales of the glories of Christmases long, long ago instead....to quote a song.

I'm gonna go wash my hands again right now.