And Thank You, God, for William

So old William had his last day today. It was time.  He was receiving handfuls of pain meds, just to keep him comfortable. They were destroying his kidneys. 

William was given to us unasked for, and remained for 14 years.  He never liked me until the last few months of his life.  Perhaps finally figuring out who fed him.  Or maybe the pain meds made him not care.  I don’t know.  He loved Gregg and was truly his pet.  His shenanigans entertaining to them both I suppose.  A boy and his goat. They were a pair.  He was nothing but love to Gregg. If Gregg was in the pasture working, William was in his back pocket, six inches from what he was doing. Often picking up and carrying off his tools.

We tried for a time to let the children show William in 4-H.  His crowning achievement being referred to by a judge as ‘a fine example of a dairy goat.’  But then he bit the judge.  And a kid. And was unceremoniously forevermore banned from the fair.  Go figure.

For a long time, Rebekah could only go in the pasture if she carried a lunge whip. He would give her a hairy eyeball, but leave her alone. WHAT ANIMAL DOESN’T LOVE REBEKAH?  Even so, she’s been in bed half the day from upset over his loss.

He opened EVERY gate.  EVERY gate.  We had to put chains and hooks on everything.  He escaped many times, and once rang our door bell.  Seriously.  He rang our door bell.  We opened the door, he stared at us, and then took off.  He ate my dogwood tree. He ate my flowers.  He knocked me down.  He ran over me. He broke my glasses. He required a VET to trim his hooves as we didn’t want to die from exhaustion – or injury.  It took THREE of us to do it. So we paid the vet instead.  He attacked the vet – but that didn’t go as planned.  One moment he was in the air, standing on two hind legs, and the next he was snubbed to the fence with one foot already trimmed. Afterwards, they had an ‘understanding.’  Our vet always claimed to like him. I dunno.

Will I miss him?  I have to say, “Yes.”  Stupid Pill William made me love him after all.  I’m sad to see him gone.  Sad for Gregg he has lost his pet.  In the end, he was a good boy.  I think he had a good life.  

Oh, and Gregg – you know that patch of white on his head?  I’m told that’s his hair. <3

Bob the Quail

This quail showed up and has been hanging out with Helen's chicks for the past week. He is not mine, but either wild, or raised by someone else and he found his way here.  I hope he stays.  We have named him BOB.

If it don't fits, I makes it fits!

Our cat Toastie, has a thing for boxes.  And if she doesn't fit? It doesn't matter.