When a goat pees in your face — what not to do

I haven’t written in a while because nothing really funny has happened in my life. Last week, I went to the dentist and was accused of eating too much candy. (Am I on trial or getting my teeth cleaned?) I mopped up some dog vomit which wasn’t very funny at all and I couldn’t find August at the playground for ten minutes which WASN’T FUNNY AT ALL.  (He was hiding under a pile of wood chips as a joke.) Also, last week I found some really cute pants at Goodwill and when I tried them on I discovered a pair of nasty used thong underwear in the pocket. I threw the underwear down and screamed, raking my hands against the dressing room wall to try and get the thong stank off until a Goodwill employee knocked on the door to see if I was okay. She thought I was having a seizure. (She said, “It happens all the time. People have fits and shit here every day.”) Wait, do they have shit fits here? Or are you saying they have fits and other things here? I’m confused.


Garfield eating leftover icing

So yesterday, as I was walking down to the goats, I started to wonder if anything funny was ever going to happen to me again that I could write about.

And then something did.

I’ve been experimenting with tethering Garfield and Odie at different parts of our property so they can eat all the blackberry bushes that are taking over. Buck has been helping me do this because he’s the only one of our farm kids that’s big enough to handle the goats on a leash. The only problem is that Buck finds the goats completely disgusting. We have an ongoing battle where I try to illuminate all of Garfield and Odie’s wonderful qualities (uh, they’re fun?) and Buck simply answers back, “They pee on their beards.”


See how fun they are!

Which is true. In order to attract a lady, male goats put their heads between their legs and spray pee all over their faces. But hey, who am I to judge?  Animals and humans do unusual things to attract mates. When Bill and I were dating, he once picked me up from the airport wearing a Yankees baseball uniform. I think a goat might find that pretty odd. (As well as most of the people at the airport.)

So Buck and I took Garfield and Odie over to blackberry land and started working on their tethers. I had Garfield on a leash and was down on my hands and knees with a sledgehammer pounding a stake in the ground. Buck was nearby with Odie doing the same thing and bitterly complaining about his lot in life.


Odie playing with Lucy

I noticed that Garfield was very close to me, but I was so focused on the sledgehammer that I didn’t look up to see what he was doing.

And that’s when I felt something very warm and wet hit me.

Confused, I looked up to see that Garfield was trying to squirt his beard with pee, but instead was actually hitting me in the face.

Now, since I don’t have much experience with large animals urinating in my eyes (except for that time in Tijuana), I did the worst thing possible, which was to scream so that the pee went directly into my mouth.

Sadly, this time my screaming did not bring a concerned Goodwill employee to my aid, but only a twelve year old boy who was laughing so hard he could not get off the ground.

And the worst part was that I couldn’t let go of Garfield or he would have gotten away, so I just held onto him like we were the world’s worst circus act.  (Next time, I’ll wear a sparkly unitard and we’ll be known as “Goat boy and the Golden Lady”.)


Buck quickly ran up to the house to regale his siblings with all the grizzly details while I followed and took the longest shower of my life.

So yeah, I’m all good with funny stories for the week. I’m actually totally fine going back to being boring again.

I suppose the good news is I can cross “getting a golden shower from a goat” off my bucket list.  (But first I have to add “getting a golden shower from a goat” to my bucket list.)


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