The goats do this to me all the time. They know I'm a
movie nut and I love to watch murder mysteries,
action/adventures, scary shows with vampires (I'm a
fan of Blade), zombies, dragons, Godzilla (I'm a big
fan of Godzilla), werewolves, and there is absolutely
nothing better than a well written scary movie where
the guys scream like girls. Just can't beat that.
But, I'm not silly, I only watch these during the
daylight hours. I either rent the movie or tape it
and watch it sometime when the sun is shining bright.
Early one morning, around 5:15 a.m., when it was
really, really dark out, with just a dim security light
barely working overheard in the young kids feeding
area, I found myself feeling very good. It was fifty
degrees, a warm spring morning, forty- five of my
beautiful three to six months old little girls were
standing on the other side of the gate, waiting for me
to open it and let them in to their grain.
I was sweeping out the pvc pipe feeders with my broom,
humming happily while the little girls repeated "Good
Morning" to me and urging me to hurry up and put the
grain out and open the gate. I was in mid swing in
cleaning out a feeder when I noticed it had suddenly
got very quiet. It was an eerie quiet in the darkness
of the morning.
I glanced over at the gate to see what the little
girls were doing and they were gone! Not a one was
standing there begging for their grain. Nothing gets
between them and their grain, unless it is really
scary. I felt the hairs raise up on the back of my
neck and I had this sudden urge to run.
I mentally had to take hold of the back of my neck and
make myself stand still and look around. After all, I
did have my broom in hand for defense and not even my
heavy barn boots can slow down this old goat farmer if
there is a need to run. Of course, it has to be a
really big need to run for me to run any more.
Nothing. I looked around in the darkness and saw
nothing. I whipped out my flashlight and shined it
out into the inky blackness to see if any glowing eyes
were looking back at me. Nothing. Yet the girls were
gone. I stood there a second longer, getting my motor
rived up in case a good run was in order, when what
walked around the corner of the barn came one of the
barn cats. Good Grief.
I went back to sweeping and humming and in a few
minutes my little girls came back and all was right
with the really dark morning. Now my older adult
girls have known me long enough that they know how to
spook me in daylight. One sure way is for me to
innocently be out cleaning the water tubs and
refilling them and have a herd of about seventy girls
come charging around the barn on high alert. Not only
does this really catch my attention because I am
standing out in the open holding only a water hose,
with no place to duck behind to keep from getting run
over. And, forget about diving into the water tubs.
I've seen spooked girls leap in and then out of them
when they get really excited about something.
I usually just stand there, bugged eyed, and wait to
see which way I should leap out of the way because
I've given up being able to out run them. Even in my
youngest days with brand new tennis shoes I couldn't
outrun the girls. Half the time the girls slow down
and circle around me saying, "Oh, Connie's here.
She'll protect us." And, when I am completely
surrounded they'll turn to face what spooked them to
begin with. Usually, Buck, one of the livestock guard
dogs comes ambling around the corner, looking all
sleepy eyed, wondering what all the commotion is
about.
What's happened is the girls forgot Buck was curled up
tight, napping while they were dozing, and he had
stood up and snorted after his good nap. The girls
forgetting he was even there, suddenly saw a huge
black brindle booger unexpectedly rise up among them.
Well, they were out of there, baby. No standing
around wondering what it was. My girls may not be the
smartest girls in the world, forgetting they even had
a livestock guard dog that has been on the place eight
years, but neither are they ever going to stand around
to be eaten easily by anything.
What happens the other half of the time when the girls
pull a stampede on me? Usually I hunker down a little
to protect my knees from being run into, hold my hands
out in front of me and shout, "Girls. Girls." So
far, they part like the Red Sea to go around. Now, if
I ever miss sending in a Nanny Berries story, you'll
know what happened to me. The girls forgot to part.
In daylight another trick the older girls like to
spook me with is for me to be walking among them,
checking them over, and all the sudden they stiffen
(no, they aren't Fainting goats, though sometimes I
wish they would) and everyone of them quickly turns
their head around to stare at something really hard
that is up in the woods. Who knows what's there under
cover? Possibly bears, coyotes, bobcats, werewolves,
zombies? But when the livestock guard dogs start
growling. Well! That about does it for me. I find
myself getting lined up for the run home because I
don't plan on being the one left behind to be
sacrificed for the greater good. I do wait and see
what is spooking them before high tailing it home and
so far it has been a deer or turkey or an innocent
squirrel. At least that is what I tell them before I
leave.
So, am I going to give up my murder mysteries, horror
movies, and scary vampire movies so I'm not so easily
spooked and wonder why I am scared and still standing
there? I doubt it. The goats don't watch that stuff
and look how easily spooked they are. I figure it's
hereditary, so I might as well enjoy my movies, as
long as I watch them during the daylight. And, when
my little girls get spooked in the early dark morning
hours, I just have to remember to shine my flashlight
high to see what is going on. After all, Godzilla is
tall.
THE END
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