I have finally realized that there is something basically wrong with me. I know, I know, Iím a goat farmer.
What do I expect? I suppose people have to be a little "tetched" in the head to be happy being a goat
farmer, but this is different. I have developed a split personality. When I brought this idea up to Lee about
my split personality, for some reason he wasnít a bit surprised.
Usually I am known as good old Connie, kind to all Godís creatures, including mankind, er, people kind.
Generous to a fault, give you her last plug nickel, will go to great lengths to be patient and understanding.
But, lately I am noticing "G G" (Grouchy Gus) appearing. By the way, "G G" prefers to have her name
sound French, and since she is the way she is, I go along with her. After all, I am good old Connie.
I think "G G" appeared several years ago when we bought a herd of Angora goats. They were a wild
bunch of hooligans. You could only get near them if you had a bucket of grain in your hand. And there
was one in particular that had it all figured out. She wanted that grain but she didnít want you. So, the
way she figured it was to stand back and take a running go and butt that grain bucket out of your hand
just as hard as she could so the bucket and grain went flying. Grain going everywhere, scaring the living
daylights out of the previous grain bucket holder, and then she would run around scarfing up the grain off
the ground. She had it all figured out.
Since the Angoras were all white, it was really hard to figure out which doe was doing this. I wouldnít
have been a bit surprised if they all were taking turns doing it, but fortunately that wasnít the case. We
narrowed it down to one girl and while she had her sights set on my grain bucket one day, Lee grabbed
her and we put a collar and bell on her. That way we would at least always hear her coming. To this day
I have a slight fear of bells. If she even thought you had something she might want, sheíd take a running
go and try to butt it out of your hands. Hearing a bell far off coming closer, and closer, and closer, and
knowing that you are probably the target, well, Iím hyperventilating right now.
Thatís when "G G" first appeared, I believe. Because Iím sure I was extremely sweet up until that time. I
was standing there with a grain bucket in my hands one day and heard the bell. Just in time I lifted the
grain bucket and this white Angora doe flew by ringing loudly. Without even hesitating, I gave a good
solid kick to the retreating goat fanny. Well, it pretty much surprised us both. Where did that come from?
The belled doe never tried her "butt the grain bucket" trick again and I made a promised to myself that I
would never hit another innocent creature again. But, of course, at that time I had turned into good old
Connie to be so repentant and had made the promise to her.
On another day I was in the young bucksí pen haying everyone. There was this one particular buck kid
that had matured much faster then the other boys. The other boys were walking around saying, "Iím
Connieís babies." But, this one particular boy was saying, "Iím boss. I can take her any day." That
particular day while I was petting and hugging the 6 mo. old bucks, that particular buck reared back and
went for me. Whites showing around his eyes, he whacked me several times below the knee and then put
his head into my leg and started pushing for all he was worth to make me leave the pen. I was speechless,
at least good old Connie was. Then suddenly something came over me. I reached down, grabbed front
and back on the opposite side legs and flipped him to his side. Then I took my foot and stood on his
neck just enough to keep him from getting up. He was helpless. He could only lie there.
The other buck kids stood around us in a circle with big wide eyes, not knowing what to do. I called
them over and petted them, but made the obnoxious little buck stay on the ground. After ten minutes I let
him up. He slowly got up and shook himself and then went off to beat up on another kid. After that that
kid wasnít a bit of trouble. He politely asked permission to do things, would quietly come up to get
petted, never any trouble. Iím sure that was "G G" that pulled that trick. I was appalled. But, I did
appreciate it when then little buck didnít attack me anymore.
Another time I had to go into one of the older bucksí pen to check on something. I donít remember
what. This fellow had been starting to want to take you on if you got near him. Lee insisted that if I had to
go into the pen, to carry the Hot Shot he had bought me. At least I might have a chance to get away then
if attacked. Timidly, I carried my Hot Shot in and started doing some work on the pen. The buck took
me by surprise and whacked me in the leg with his huge horns. The pain from that blow was unreal. Then
he reared up high with plans to come down with a mighty blow to my body. I felt "G G" taking over.
Calmly I lifted the Hot Shot, flicked it on high and, took careful aim, stepped in, and got him on the end
of his nice moist nose while he was in high rear. ZzzzzzzPOP went that Hot Shot. That buck squalled and
took off for the high country. He was always polite to me after that. Kind old Connie was absolutely
mortified that I had hurt that 400 lb. Buck. But, I did appreciate it when the buck started giving me instant
respect the few times I went back into his pen alone.
Then, I felt "G G" taking over when it came to handling certain goat customers. I couldnít believe it. Kind
old Connie would never have acted in such a manner. I had a couple of people email me wanting pictures
of the goats I had for sale. This happened during different times with different people, but they wanted the
same thing. First, they wanted the pictures. Sure. I love taking pictures of my goats and sending them to
people. Then they wanted to know how far I was from them. I looked it up for them and told them.
Then, on separate occasions and the same request from different people. They wanted me to load all the
goats I had for sale up and drive them over to their place and then they MIGHT pick out one. With a
shudder, I felt "G G" taking over. I couldnít stop her. She said, "No thanks." and hung up on the people.
I couldnít believe it. She hung up on those people. Sweet old Connie would never have done that, but
would have politely explained in a long winded fashion why it wasnít possible.
Had another person call up and explain in a fast fashion that this was a long distance phone call and she
was going to hang up because of the cost and wanted me to call back to talk goats because she had a
boat load of questions to ask me. "Here, take down my number and Iíll wait right here for you to call
back," she said. She quickly gave her number and hung up. By this time "G G" had taken over. Folks,
she didnít write the number down!! In fact she just turned and walked away from the phone to go outside
and get some chores done. Sweet old Connie was just simply shocked. She would have quickly
explained to the person that it was long distance for her too, but she would be happy to help the lady with
any problems, but she didnít feel it was right that she should foot the big long distance bill. But, I guess,
the lady would have hung up long before all that got out, because, after all, it was long distance.
People email quite frequently wanting me to make road trip maps for them to get to our farm. If they are
three or four hours away in an area I know, well thatís easy. I explain it to them and they write it down
how to get to the farm. But, I had a few from far out of state want me to hunt up where they are at, list all
the roads for them to take, tell them what places to stop and eat at, what places to stay in, do it all in
great detail, write it all down so they donít have to and then email it to them. Then they would decide if
they really wanted to come after all. On requests like these, "G G" takes over before I can stop her. "Go
to map blaster.com, type in where you are at and where you want to go." And, thatís it, no please or
thank you. Now, if good old Connie had answered, I would have found out if they liked hot coco for
breakfast at the motel they stayed in and would have tried to send them some Big Mac coupons for
eating out. But, no, "G G" always takes over on these requests.
So, if you do call here, you can try requesting "good old Connie". But, I donít know. That "G G" can
suddenly take over at the oddest times, especially if you tell her that her goats should really be worth no
more then $25, or tell her she had better only offer quality goats to you or you will tell her what for. Iím
afraid good old Connie would probably say, "Here, you want to speak to G G."