Animal News: The Chronicles of Newman and other Stories
Goat Trauma
Some months ago, I came across a web site that I thought was silly, but really funny -- www.goat-trauma.org. I sent it to all my friends, joking about the "trauma" Mr. Newman Goat had caused us all. I was even compelled to buy one of their T-shirts claiming "I survived goat trauma". Did I suspect that I was really a victim, after all? No, no, not for one second. It was just a joke, that's all, yeah, just a joke.
I should have suspected something was up on the day when, in the course of my job, I went to the Qwest data center (a huge facility in northern Virginia where they house thousands of servers). We passed by some "cages" where some larger installations are kept; the material of the cage walls looked exactly like the stuff I buy from the sheep and goat supplier for containment pens - same cerulean blue, same weave of metal. Out of habit, I pushed on the wall of one of these cages, and pronounced "not goat proof". Flimsy stuff. My colleague looked at me sideways but said nothing.
Another suspicious sign: it's become a habit that whenever I go to visit someone's home, like a trained private eye, I automatically evaluate the outside structure of the house, the doors particularly, the fencing, the placement of garbage cans, what kind of door handles their cars have. On more than one occasion as I have beheld a picture window or a cute, plastic fence with a paper thin latch at the top, I have thought "my God, how can they LIVE like this. A GOAT could get in here!"
Well, this morning it hit me like a brick that, in fact, I am suffering from a severe case of goat trauma. I had just parked my truck at a friend's house, and heard a loud *BANG* behind me. I jumped, immediately got in goat wrestling stance with the EXACT thought, "No, Newman, NO!".... and saw a neighbor, who had just opened his garage door, look at me in the most curious fashion. Tail between my legs I quickly entered the house and began to give some serious thought to my problem. Is this in fact a new and undiagnosed psychological syndrome? Will this make it into the scientific journals? Could I perhaps receive disability and retire from my full time job?
All this probably seems pretty straightforward to you. In fact, I'll bet at least one of your friends or coworkers has, at one time in their lives, suffered from goat trauma without even knowing it.
But in my case there is a curveball. It manifested itself two weeks ago when Mr. Newman Goat ate some latex gloves. At least they disappeared right around the time he was rummaging around in my medical supplies. Terribly concerned, frantic in fact, I began treating him accordingly with mineral oil, monitoring his heart rate and rumen sounds every few hours throughout the day and night. Evidently he felt that the sympathy level needed a boost, so later in the night he managed to lacerate his hoof on something sharp, which then left him completely lame. Being somewhat accident prone, Newman has learned how to milk the nursemaid for all she's worth. I was sitting crosslegged on the ground at about 1:30 am, stethoscope pressed against his body, when he let out a deep sigh, leaned his head on my knee, and kept it there for a long time. And we just sat there, goat and girl, girl and goat.
I guess I'm going to have to leave the analysis to the professionals. It's a mysterious case, and all the more so because, truthfully, I have no wish to recover from this condition. And if you'll excuse me right now I have to go out and reinforce some barn doors.
Until next time,
Farmer Anne
Star Gazing Farm
http://www.stargazingfarm.org
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