Saturday, April 05, 2008

On the Other Hand...

So I started off the morning telling you all how proud I was of my little Lucky loo for growing up. I will wrap up the day by telling you how much I miss her.

Marty and I avoided the chaos of Saturday night out in Lincolnton (you think I am joking but I am not - EVERYONE goes out on Fridays and Saturdays) and opted instead for takeout and the Final Four at home. While watching Kansas rip the Tarheels a new one (so sorry Carolina sorry), I remarked to Marty how much I missed Lucky. While she is a handful - running and jumping on everything, chewing on everything, taking her out to go to the bathroom and then standing around the pasture waiting for her to take her sweet time - she is also sweet, loving and affectionate. In some ways she's more puppy dog than goat and I love when she curls up in my lap, rests her head on my leg, closes her eyes and drifts off into safe, peaceful slumber.

We toyed with bringing her in. One last time and that sort of thing. Marty's argument was that she's still small enough (although just barely) where the whole lapgoat thing works and we won't be able to do it for much longer. I argued against it. She's making major progress getting fully integrated into the herd and life in the pasture and I didn't want to disrupt that progress with a trip in the house.

Marty deferred to me and we would have been fine except I went outside to call for Tony to bring him in for the night and of course Lucky heard/saw me and started crying. And suddenly Marty's argument seemed much more compelling but I stuck to my guns (so unlike me to be so disciplined in matters of the heart), shut the door and decided to write about it instead.

No doubt I love my munchkin very, very much. But she is a goat and her life is outside the house.

And if that ain't country, I'll kiss your...


Anonymous said...

... there's a golden band.