Lions and Tigers and Goats, oh my.

It was a hot, quiet afternoon and I was holed-up inside having just come home from work. The quiet part was changed instantly by a knock on the door. The furkids (still need to introduce them) erupted into their "I'm going to eat you/pet my tummy" canine opera. Still haven't posted that "my dog eats every third salesman, the second one just left" sign on the front door, yet. The salesman stated he was selling great steaks at very reasonable prices. I don't buy meat from the back of trucks in August in Texas, I tell him. He nervously laughs and says "no, we take orders and bring it out to you". I wondered why he was fidgeting and as I followed the glance he made over his shoulder, the reason became apparent. Buddy the goat had followed him from the neighbor's house.

We now, ironically, have unpackaged meat on the hoof chasing a meat salesman. The rather burly manly-man says in a voice that was, by now squeaking, "I don't do goats, make him go away". Buddy, at that precise moment, happily clip-clops up the stairs and onto the porch. He wanted to play with the nice man, like he does with his human 'Daddy' at home. I have watched Buddy and his Dad play and charge each other with lowered heads, without ever once striking each other. However, cheap-steak man knows nothing of this ritual and sees himself about to become goat chow. I grabbed Buddy's horn and let the man make a hurried dash for his truck. I, evilly (who ME), let go of said goat horn. Did you know that a goat can outrun a salesman; even if the salesman is given a headstart?

The man would have made a promising football player (or ballerina)- the moves he made were executed with style and grace. Both arms stretched out fully in front, with fingers widely splayed trying to fend off the wildly bouncing demon goat. All the while, his cute butt (hey, it was) was stuck fully out the opposite way. To his credit, no girlie-scream was ever emitted while he did the goat dance- the only sound heard was me snorting the held back laughter. He dived into the passenger side of the truck, slammed the door and thereby, saved his own meat so to speak. I escorted Buddy safely home, all the while chuckling and murmuring thanks to him for the delightful respite he provided on a hot August day in Texas.