And there he stood, with stained beard and mischievous eyes while autumn breezes sent dry leaves zig-zagging across the cloudless Georgian sky. Now, if we could just get our new Saanen buck loaded up and headed back to our own small corner of Harris County. Of course, all of our promises of lovely Nubian does failed to convince him into gleefully hopping into our waiting trailer. No sir.
His reasons for staying on the farm outside of Athens were certainly understandable. Josh and I wanted to stay, too. Gently sloping pastures dotted with majestic shade trees and a lovely herd of show-quality Saanen does were just a few reasons to want to put down some firm roots.
Peacocks, chickens, and guinea fowl hopped upon sparkly new fences and aluminum gates. The wind carried the sacred sounds of the countryside: the distant chugging of an old tractor, happy barking of an excited Labrador, and silvery whisper of golden grasses dancing in the sunlight.
Nevertheless, the buck’s time was up at the farm. As Emperor Kuzco said (in The Emperor’s New Groove), “You’re being let go. Your department is being downsized. You’re part of an outplacement. We’re going in a different direction. We’re not picking up your option.” However you want to say it, transfers are part of a male dairy goat’s life.
He stood — triumphantly — on a round bale with two does stretching up to him like groupies at a rock concert while his new owner and former owner waited with lead ropes at the ready. I madly snapped pictures and took video (click here to watch the guys attempt to corner the goofy thing) as he lept off the bale and headed for the barn. Why wasn’t I helping with the herding? Well, it’s a wise woman who knows her strengths and I happen to know that tackling stinky goats isn’t one of my talents. Trust me, I was helping in my own way… ensuring recorded proof of two grown men chasing a goat in circles is VERY important business.
At last, the newest member of the family found himself locked in the trailer with a bucket of grain and several slices of bread (his favorite treat). We signed papers, shook hands, and said our goodbyes. Hopefully, we’ll keep in touch since they happened to be the nicest folks on the planet.
I couldn’t help but look back and when I did… I felt that familiar ache for Virginia. Why does every curving country road make me homesick? Had a horse been cantering along those fences, I might have cried. Thank goodness the threat of crazed football fans flooding the interstate offered enough incentive to hightail it outta there or there might have been a problem.
As I write this, our new goat is happily chasing around his new girls in our pasture and I’m cruising baby name websites while picturing a field of kids this spring. *sigh* Can. Not. Wait.
Can’t get enough of the goat adventures? Feel free to read about the last adventure to find goats: You Can’t Miss It.