TheBanyanTree: Napping With Goats.

[NancyIee at aol.com]

Dances With Wolves is a good Native American name, don't you think? How 
about, Napping With Goats?

It was foggy this morning, and cool enough to make morning-in-the-barn 
comfortable. I go out before dawn and mix the feeds for the horses, take out last 
night's leftovers for the pigs, and let the goats out.

We have two black and white goats, youngsters about half grown.  They move 
like deer, bounding out of their pen and leaping and froliking impatently as I 
fill their feed dishes.  They wear new collars, day-glo orange, and Billy has a 
bell on his.  He disappears into the morning fog and I hear his bell ring as 
he takes a couple of fast laps around the barn.

I feed and let the horses out into the pasture. They slide away silently into 
the fog toward the grassy patch near the pond. I can't see them, but I hear 
their hoofbeats in the sand, and their whinnies as they chase out the sleep 
from their legs. Champagne, the colt the color of moonlight, flies by me in full 
gallop and disappears into the fog again like a baby Pegasus.

I clean the stalls and rinse out the water buckets, and then sit in the grass 
to enjoy the morning. A flock of storks comes gliding in, landing somewhere 
out in the fog.  The goat bells nears, and the goats come to see what I'm up 
to.  Billy nibbles at my shirt, then folds his legs and lays down next to me.  
Dolly comes and snuggles up on my other side.

It's a beautiful morning, the fog glowing as the sun comes up.  The goats 
snooze next to me, and I doze a little too.

NancyLee