At night, we do the chores. Well, Ben does most the chores. He milks Hattie and Marge. I play with Mav and Chester. Ben hands me a pile of hay and then I motivate those little kids into their small house for the night. Ben carries the larger pile of hay to the bigger house-barn for the girls.

On his way, sprinkles of hay fall to the ground. Not enough to look desirable, but enough for our smallest goat, Roxy, to get sidetracked. While Ben carries the big, tasty portion of hay to the house-barn, Roxy doesn’t follow. She eats what’s on the ground. Like her life depends on it. Like there’s nothing more than the scrappy scraps she sees on the ground. She’d rather have what’s easy and immediate.

Continue reading “When You’re a Lot Like a Goat” →