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.