# Favorite Stories



## GoatTracksMagazine

I thought it might be fun to share our favorite stories of some of the experiences weâ€™ve had with people that come across us as we pack with our buddies. There is usually a quip offered by people that want to break the ice and stop to talk further (e.g. â€œthose are funny-looking dogsâ€). The variety of comments we hear, and our responses, can be quite entertaining. 

My favorite is three horse riders that you meet coming across a meadow. These are usually best because they have time to plan their delivery (and delivery is everything. The more stoic of the three usually gets the best lines). Now back to delivery â€¦ the horseman leans over his stopped horse, pulls his felt hat down about a quarter of an inch, and with his best Sam Elliot voice says, â€œI hope you didnâ€™t pay a lot for them horses.â€ At this point you should see a slight smirk develop ever so slyly from behind the corner of his Sam Elliot mustache. This is followed by smirks and maybe a stifled chuckle from the other horsemen. 

At this point of the interaction, the seasoned goat packer should have been considering all comebacks that are humorous and have them ready at a momentâ€™s notice. For this one, I like, â€œThe guy at the auction told me they were Horned Paints from Texas and would probably grow to be sixteen hands or more.â€ 

I truly enjoy humorous horsemen in the mountains ... they are usually fun-loving and happy people. I also know they are usually thirsty and hungry and will be more than willing to take you up on an offer of sharp cheddar cheese and crackers, washed down with a cold (or warm) beverage. I think these interactions just add to the experiences of any trip, and being good ambassadors for your goats helps everyone who packs.

What are some of your favorite stories?
Shannon
Goat Tracks Magazine


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## sweetgoatmama

The weirdest trip we ever took was the year we went to the rendy in the middle of the Sturgis Motorcycle Run. We had about a thousand bikers come ask us about the goats and be really perplexed by the sight of the goats. Nothing like standing in the middle of a group of harley riders in full dress and them thinking you are the weird one.

We spent one horrible wet night in an RV park on the last possible spot of rental land in Cook City, Montana with a group who made us coffee and fed us oatmeal cookies for breakfast. We hung out all morning under their canopy waiting for the rain to stop so we could all continue on.


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## Rex

One of the ones that sticks out in my mind was with an older couple a friend and I came on one day. I saw them ahead of us and could tell they were making painfully slow progress. As we got closer I could see they were both carrying large packs and using walking sticks. The woman was limping and moving slowly and the man was moving slow to keep pace with her. We quickly caught up to them and when they heard us coming they stepped off the trail. As we came up to them I expected the usual barrage of questions but instead all I got was open mouthed stares. They both looked totally defeated and I immediately felt sorry for them. They obviously loved the mountains but I could tell it was an exercise in pain for them to carry their packs. They just stood there staring at the goats, neither seemed willing (or able) to speak. I broke the ice and asked them where they were headed. The Man said he didn't know, they would just have to see how far they could get. He went on to tell me his wife had bad knees and they didn't think they would be doing any more trips after this one. I left them some information and have always liked to think that I might meet them on the trail someday with a couple of packgoats carrying their gear.


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## idahonancy

Do complete strangers want to take your picture with the goats? It seems weired to me but I hold the lead and smile anyway. One neighbor wanted to know if I had raindeer. The other wanted to know if my Obers "were born that color." No, of course they were little white goats and I dyed them. I've stopped laughing at the mistaken identity for big dogs and alpacas.


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## sweetgoatmama

I was once surrounded by a family of Indians in full Sari dress, (Eastern ones) who wanted their picture taken with the donkey. They had to arrange themselves so that everyone was touching the goats.

Apparently they lived in the city in India.


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## Lightfoot Packgoats

My favorite "Photo op" story was when I was bringing a very stinking, rutting, large, Flying Pie back home from Carolyn's house where he had been performing studly duties. 

I was at a rest stop in southern Oregon, walking Pie around and letting him browse when a lovely young, Chinese couple approached me with their infant son and a camera. They did not speak english and I certainly don't speak Chinese but the request was clear, "Is he friendly?  Can we take a picture with our son on top of him?"

Honest, truly, I TRIED to explain how bad he smells. I gestured, motioned and held my nose after sniffing him and made the most horrid faces to explain how bad this greasy, orange (used to be white) crusty BUCK, smelled, but they were really wanting that photo of this 8 or 9 month old little darling on this huge goat.

Sigh, I relented and they got their picture. The little chap was elated to have such a cool pony. He sat up straight, grinning from ear to ear, he was so easy going and not the slightest bit afraid. But, all good things must end and after they got their pictures of the baby alone on Pie, the baby with mom and Pie, the dad with Pie and the baby,etc, they tried to lift their son off of Pie's stinking back. He dug his little hands into Pie's greasy neck hair and WOULD NOT LET GO. We had to pry and untangle and work on it while he screamed and hung on as if his life depended on it. He was laying on Pie's neck, holding on for all he was worth, literally wallowing in the horrid stench of this rutting 220 pound young buck. Pie stood calmly, understanding that babies are just odd sometimes and really was a gentle, quiet fellow. I was so proud of him!

Finally we disengaged the baby and the sweet, young, beautiful and perfectly well dressed parents thanked me profusely and headed off toward their car, thrilled to have gotten such good pictures of their little darling on the biggest goat they'd ever seen!

A stiff breeze was blowing, blowing Pie's aweful stench away from them the entire time we worked to free their son and during the photo shoot.

To this day I laugh when I think of them, heading down the road in that brand new economy rental car, when she suddenly says, "Honey? Whats that SMELL?"...

Charlie Goggin
Lightfoot Packgoats


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## idahonancy

Seeing how it is the dead of winter in North Idaho day hiking is as good as it gets. Finding a place to exercise where the goats are not breaking through the snow up to their chest is hard. We live near a small (1000 ft vertical) mountian with recreation trails. Every weekend we go up the hill. My littlest Ober boy is 10 months old. He waits until I put the saddle on the the 3 year old and then start pounding on him. I call it the runt's revenge. The little guy gets pushed around alot in the yard at home. Once the saddle is on the big guy he is relentless in his harassment. The little one gets pushed out of the feeder at home but is always in the lead on the trail. He seems to have 2 personalities, submissive at home and bossy on the open trail. Fortunately he only uses bossy on goats, he follows me everwhere. 
A novice oberservation. IdahoNancy


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## idahonancy

Goats on water. 
We went on a 9 mile hike this weekend. It was the 3 Ober boys and a dog that swims. We were in Montana just over the Idaho boarder up north. It had 1500 feet of vertical climing on a trail that at times looked like a shallow river. Despite the mushy snow in places the weather was warm. The trail took us to a Montana classic beautiful lake. Scout my 1 year old ober for the 2nd time in his life jumped head first into a deep water hole. The water was covered in debris. I don't think he has depth perception with water. He must think if the dog can go across so can I. The splash was unmistakable. We're not talking anything graceful here. There was his butt sticking out of the water again. This time he was able to get his head out of the mud. Last October I was chest deep pulling him out after a moment that seemed like forever. This time with his head up he stood there wide eyed and frozen in place. I leaned over a log and got a pull on his halter to head him out. God help us if he does this with a pack on. My 3 year old walked into the water hole up to his belly and stood there. That suprized me. They like sponge baths with gentle running water but hate squirt guns.


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## Nanno

One of the most common questions we get asked about our goat is also the dumbest: "Can you milk him?"

Ok... repeat that to yourself _slowly_.


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## ohiogoatgirl

Nanno said:


> One of the most common questions we get asked about our goat is also the dumbest: "Can you milk him?"
> 
> Ok... repeat that to yourself _slowly_.


ya :lol: my family had dairy goats for 9 yrs and I still get looks from people! lol! you would be surprised how many people dont know the difference between sheep and goats!!!


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## Bob Jones

We had stopped on the trail for the kids, about 12 weeks old at that time, to catch their breath. A single woman hiker stopped a fair distance off below us, so I told her it was OK to come by, that they were only spooked by dogs.

As she passed us, I told her that she had passed the test and she was obviously not a dog.

She thanked me and said that sometimes she was getting to wondering about it.


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## feederseaters

I love it when some one asks me if I "milk" my boys? Well with a very straight face I say..."I'm sure they wouldn't mind, it may take a while though. I never have but if YOU want to, go ahead." Most people catch on by then that you can't "milk" the B-O-Y-S!!

My favorite story (so far) took place this summer. I took my boys up a Mountain in NH know for its damp and mostly crappy weather. The boys were in training and loved the hike up the mountain. This happened to be peak leaf-peeper weekend (My mistake for not remembering). So anyway, I get to the summit with no problems and everyone is quite amazed to see four young goats just following me around on top of a mountain. First someone asked me if they were wild, I said" yes. Can you believe that they all happen to have matiching collars too, Strange huh?" Then it dawned on me, this is the first time I have EVER been on this mountain that there has been a clear view 360 degrees for miles. I was soaking up the view and turned to see all the tourists standing with their backs to the view in a circle around the boys. 
I can't tell you how many pictures were taken and how many questions were answered..but I do know that it took me 2 hours to make the 1 mile trek from the summit to the parking lot. It got to the point that when there were no one passing me on the trail, the boys and I were running, its the only time we could make progress. 
All in all the boys were loving all the attention and about 100 tourist have pictures of themselves with my goats!


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## Bob Jones

This weekend was my first...

"What are their names?"
"Larry, Moe, Diego, Mikey."
"Can you milk them?"

I am polite to everyone, but in my mind I have a different conversation...

They're all on lead because of all the dogs.
"Are they yours?"
"No, we stole them from the Greek kid in the ditch around the corner."

"Are they from Europe?"
"They are... far from Europe."

"Are you allowed to have them?"
"No. They have been banned by the Federal Government for 100 years. We have to hide them inside dope shipments to get them across the border.

"Do they run away?"
"They've only done that once and we never found them."

"Do they spit?"
"Only when chewing tobacco."

"Are they like dogs?"
"Yes. Exactly like dogs. But completely different. They're kinda like tigers in the same way. Completely different."

"What do you carry in the packs?"
"Women's clothing for the Julie Andrews look-alike contest at the top of the mountain."

We passed at least 50 dogs on the trail this weekend. We'd have to tell the boys to stand while the dogs sniffed. They did well. 

Two people actually wanted the goats to butt their dogs as part of their socialization with goats, as if we will be seeing a lot of each other or something.


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## Rex

Bob Jones said:


> This weekend was my first...
> 
> "What are their names?"
> "Larry, Moe, Diego, Mikey."
> "Can you milk them?"
> 
> I am polite to everyone, but in my mind I have a different conversation...
> 
> They're all on lead because of all the dogs.
> "Are they yours?"
> "No, we stole them from the Greek kid in the ditch around the corner."
> 
> "Are they from Europe?"
> "They are... far from Europe."
> 
> "Are you allowed to have them?"
> "No. They have been banned by the Federal Government for 100 years. We have to hide them inside dope shipments to get them across the border.
> 
> "Do they run away?"
> "They've only done that once and we never found them."
> 
> "Do they spit?"
> "Only when chewing tobacco."
> 
> "Are they like dogs?"
> "Yes. Exactly like dogs. But completely different. They're kinda like tigers in the same way. Completely different."
> 
> "What do you carry in the packs?"
> "Women's clothing for the Julie Andrews look-alike contest at the top of the mountain."
> 
> We passed at least 50 dogs on the trail this weekend. We'd have to tell the boys to stand while the dogs sniffed. They did well.
> 
> Two people actually wanted the goats to butt their dogs as part of their socialization with goats, as if we will be seeing a lot of each other or something.


That started my day with a good laugh. :lol:

You need little "Here's your sign" pamphlets to hand out...


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## secretcreek

I don't know how I've missed this thread but it's sure had me howling in glee...

I took Merrie to the September, 2008 Pawpaw Festival near Athens, Ohio. I didn't even have him out of the trailer, but hwat his excited "maaah maaah-ing" had people circling-'round to see him and to ask questions. One parent had her children stand up on the trailer wheel-step while Merrie was standing up inside -peek out,so that his front hooves were splayed near his face, as he looked at the commotion... pretty funny. 

All the usual questions and photo op's took place.

Once we finally unloaded, had Merrie saddled and heading toward down the side of the road toward the festival entrance- we had a little following of onlookers behind us. As we waited at the ticket table at the road's edge a big passenger van pulled up and a super colorful, rasta-fied Reggae band booked to play later, poured out to pet Merrie and ask questions.

Poor Meer's was so loved upon by curious children that by the end of the day he was no longer happy to be petted or hugged. I certainly succeeded in informing the crowds about this wonderful sport/hobby handing out pamphlets and talkingtalkingtalkingtalking...but I never did get to see much of my favorite annual festival. 

Boyo, were we ever tired after that day of talking, petting.
-Wendy Hannum
Secret Creek Farm
SE Ohio


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## Nanno

Secretcreek, your story reminds me a lot of when Phil and I took Cuzco with us the the annual Hippie Festival in Gardner, CO last summer. We spent a happy evening surrounded by bald guys with gray pony tails and tie-dye shirts all asking questions and trying to pet, hug, or kiss our goat (depending on how drunk/high they were). We also had a warm reception from the reggae band that was performing that evening. Cuzco seemed to enjoy the evening. He came home wearing a new tie-dye bandana around his neck and he even got his picture in the local paper that week.


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## Nanno

Here's a hilarious new story in the life of Cuzco...

My dad called the other day with celebratory news (which I will get to in a minute). My dad said he wants to treat Cuzco to dinner at one of the local restaurants. He can have anything he likes off the menu. He'll treat Phil and I to dinner as well, but it is imperative that Cuzco get his own congratulatory meal to enjoy all by himself.

The happy occasion? Well, as some of you may know, Cuzco only has one horn. The other was knocked off several years ago in a horrible accident when a friend's dog chased him over a 30-foot cliff onto a highway. Well, the dog died last week and my dad thought it was an excellent reason for a real celebration. So he's treating our goat to dinner. We're trying to decide whether we should go to Max's Diner or Viktorio's Pizza. Max's has excellent french fries (one of Cuzco's favorite foods) and good sandwiches. On the other hand, Cuzco loves the garlic cheese knots from Viktorio's. I can't wait to see the looks on the waiters' faces when we come in and order a special take-out meal for our goat!

Yeah, we're weird, folks! Only in my family would anyone even _think_ of treating a goat to a restaurant dinner.


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## jross

That's a good story. Also the one on the other thread about Cuzco getting mad at Phil for wearing a hat with horns. Maybe you could rig him up with a prosthetic horn, bungied or velcroed on somehow and then take him to an all-you-can-eat salad bar.


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## Nanno

Well, we would do the all-you-can-eat salad bar if Cuzco consistently liked salad, but he doesn't. Croutons are never out of vogue, but greens and tomatoes and such are one of those things that Cuzco only likes when he's in the mood for them.

On the other hand, I've never once seen him turn down greasy, fattening junk food like french fries and doughy garlic cheese knots coated in butter and parmesan. Maybe we could take him to the movies... he _loves_ popcorn. I'd have to get one of those bottomless deals because he would probably polish off about 3 bags before coming up for air. 

I should start a new thread about unusual goat cuisine.


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## ali pearson

I was hiking my boer goat boys on Mt. Tamalpais in marin county a few weekends ago, with two rather famous poets who live there. Marin county is full of famous people, like rock stars Carlos Santana and Bonnie Rait who hike these same trails. I noticed that the other hikers that we passed had an interesting response that I hadn't encountered before- they would look away and try not to stare, quickly passing us without wanting to "bother" us. I soon realized that this was the sophisticated response conditioned into people who live around celebrities. But here was the interesting thing- one young lady walking her dog came over to say hi, recognized one of my human companions as the national poet laurieat,(I can't spell it) but she was really coming over to see the goats and ask questions. My poet friends at that moment realized that they were the sidekicks of the real celebrities on the mountain that day- the goats!

One lady asked me if they were my "personal" goats- as opposed to rentals, I wonder? Or timeshare? :lol: Only in Marin!


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## sweetgoatmama

You gotta watch those reggae guys. They use drums made out of goatskin.
THis thread is hilarious. I wish I had had that list of answers when we first started goatpacking. No one had ever seen such a thing.

My all time favorite comment was hearing someone off in the distance informing his friends that they were burros. That and the people who thought we were hiking with great danes.
Or the family in full eastern indian dress, saris and all, who asked if they could take a photo and then surrounded one of my goats, all eight of them, each putting a hand on him for the picture. He was a little freaked but he stood there.


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## Bob Jones

This last weekend I sponsored a hike with the Wasatch Mountain Club and advertised it as a goat hike.

As I was rigging the boys I overheard a couple discussing where to meet the group. They were within 10 feet of nearly 600 pounds of live goat meat with all the commotion that accompanies them while getting rigged for the hike.

I asked if they were with the club, and at that moment it dawned on them that the hike was with real goats, not just a hike for "Old Goats". As they hiked with us they were surprised at how many people didn't know what kind of animal they were. 

Diego pulled a sled so we carried Mapp gas with us. You can heat a sierra cup of water in less than a minute with it, so we had hot drinks at the turn-around point of our hike.

The boys are getting pretty good at standing when a dog approaches. They get plenty of practice. Most dog owners do not seem to mind if their animals get bopped on the head. So I have stopped worrying about it.


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## gsbswf

Dang, Bob, you rock. I just saw Wasatch, remembered the name from a good beer I drank when visiting friends in Salt Lake, and googled the club. I feel like I have a hard time getting my kids out and trained enough, and you are already taking people on hikes.

My favorite story, since I don't have all that many, and since that is actually the topic of this thread, is the first time we took the kids to Eagle Rocks. There is a spot on the road to Boulder Lake that my boss told me about, called Eagle Rocks. I was talking about wanting to get the kids some place they could climb and have fun. We had taken them to Two Buttes, which has a pile of rocks coming out of the side of a valley, some of them tall, but nothing huge. In fact, my profile picture is from one of those adventures. I will put another one up of it. I remember watching them jump off of things, and I remember Amy and I having heart palpitations the entire time, watching them do what we thought was the stupidest stuff in the world.

So we went to Eagle Rocks, and thought it was perfect. Plenty of small rocks, and many huge ones that were so round and big that there was no way the goats could get up on them. I think that we both have permanent health damage form the ensuing terror of watching the kids doing what was, of course, natural to them, and desperately trying to convince them to get down or lure them a way that was easy and safe, from the giant rocks that we never thought they could climb.

I guess its hard to describe the entertainment value of it all, but Romeo, Amy's little baby, is the most bold of them all. To watch her there, begging and pleading with him to come down, and then see and hear the gasp as he would jump across a 6 foot gap with a 10 foot drop, like it was nothing.

To be fair, and because this story reminded me of it, I must relate the first time one of them, Romeo again, jumped across a gap. It was at Two Buttes on their (and our) first goat adventure ever. We were watching and managing three goats and having a blast seeing them so happy and free.

Then I hear something, I imagine along the lines of "Oh God, GREGG!!!" and looking up to see Romeo above me, high enough that I couldn't reach up to him. Well, he was on the edge of this giant rock that I still don't know how he got up. Amy looks like she is about to cry, and it seems like Romeo, in response, is edging closer and closer to the plunge of death, his little hooves pushing tiny pieces of rock/lichen down onto me. There I am, thinking "Oh no, if that little pain in the you-know-what jumps off this thing and breaks his neck, Amy will never forgive herself" So I position myself under him, thinking that 30lbs of baby goat couldn't be that hard to catch, figuring at least I could break his fall and use my body to cushion his landing, even if I was likely to crack my skull in the process, and knowing that off balance too far to either side will result in Gregg and Goat plunging to painful bloody death.

Now I gave away the ending at the start, but you can imagine me there, in my cowboy hat, looking up in terror as this little goat is obviously about to commit to the point of no return, bracing myself, sweat pouring down my face and into my eyes with the little bits of rock and lichen, knowing there is no way this is going to end well, and Romeo jumps, sails through the air, me watching in awe as this tiny little goat soars over my head and lands, with room to spare, on the next rock that it had never occurred to Amy or I was even remotely in range for him to be thinking about jumping to. It was like Free Willy. I don't know how far it was, but we refer to it as 10 feet, because if nothing else, it _seemed _at least that far. I still don't know if either of us will ever get used to seeing our little kids doing such stupid (but normal) things.


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## idahonancy

I really liked watching the babies climb rock walls. They use tips of thier toes. These tips are not much bigger than the tip of a pensil. They bound upward effortlessly. My 2 year old leaned over a 10 foot drop off to eat some branches. He appeared to fall off suddenly. In mid air turned himself from head first to broadside ribs to the rock. He then caught a 3 inch rock edge with the 2 feet near the rock. He stuck a beautiful landing with grace. 
This is the same goat who fell off a log bridge 2 logs wide. He went head first into the creek 3 feet below. I know he hit his head because he had alge from the rocks on his face. The logs were wet and slippery. It was his first over night camp trip away from home. He was tired from not being able to sleep under a scary tarp in the rain. Sleep efforts were not enhanced by the resident herd of elk that moved into camp and talked all night long. He was a tired walking Ober zombie. Don't think me cuel when you see the falling goat picture. I was taking a picture of him on the bridge when he suddley fell off. Yes his panniers were loaded he was carring sleeping bags. 
IdahoNancy and the Oberpackers


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## Bob Jones

> Dang, Bob, you rock... and you are already taking people on hikes.


Actually it's a selfish thing. With so many dogs around, and my wife and daughter not always available to go with me, I like having an extra hand.

I am hoping to make enough acquaintances that I always have someone to go with. After all, hiking alone is stooopid, hiking a lone with four goats has to be really stooooopid.


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## Bob Jones

Here's the trip report I submitted to the Wasatch Mountain club for our hike today:

It was a clear day above the Salt Lake haze and there was no wind to speak of. We had eight at the gate and were joined by 2 others along the way. With four goats and three dogs we had a total of 17 heartbeats. Several were snowshoeing and several were cross country skiing. We made it a bit past the big curve at the Mt Aire trail head before turning around at five. It was a relatively warm day, only taking a chill as we rounded the big curve and headed into the shadows.

We took an easy pace so we could chat along the way. There were not so many dogs as last week, so the goats were more relaxed. This week Mikey carried 50 pounds just for the practice while Diego pulled the sled.

Some enjoyed the goats while others enjoyed the attention the goats got along the way. All had fun and we didn't have to have a Donner party.

We are hoping the weather will hold out to continue the hikes on a weekly schedule. We will tentatively plan to make the hike sun or snow, but will likely cancel for rain. Goats are susceptible to hypothermia when wet, wool shrinks and I don't want them to get smaller. Watch the calendar.


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## Nanno

Phil and I were in a music store one day when the proprietors, Mr. and Mrs. Harkins told us the side-splitting story of

*Norge and the Flaming Butt *

Mr. and Mrs. Harkins used to be ranchers, and one of the more interesting characters on their ranch was Norge, a big white billy who roamed freely about the place. Norge liked to potter among the farm buildings and follow the hands around as they did the chores. Aside from his billy goat stink, he was a harmless character who mostly provided comic relief around the ranch.

Mr. Harkins was just sitting down to lunch one day when he saw a strange thing through his large kitchen window. Tom the ranch hand was out in a distant pasture, sitting on the roof of his truck. What on earth would Tom be doing on top of the truck? He was just sitting there. Mr. Harkins wondered if Tom's truck had broken down and decided to drive out and see what the trouble was. This is what had happened:

Tom had loaded the tools in the truck bed and had headed out that morning to mend fences. As usual, Norge followed the truck. Tom was a heavy smoker and Norge was addicted to cigarette butts, so wherever Tom went, Norge was not far behind, gobbling up the discarded butts. Tom had gotten out of his truck to repair a broken wire when he got careless and forgot to tamp his cigarette out on a fence post before tossing it to Norge. Norge ate the still-smoldering butt and OUCH! It burned!

Norge was convinced that this must be Tom's idea of a sick practical joke. Tom must be punished! Norge went to the attack, ramming Tom with both horns, almost knocking him down. Tom scrambled to get out of Norge's way, but Norge was quick and began to hook Tom's clothing with his horns. Tom tried to beat the big goat off with his fencing pliers, but Norge was bigger than Tom and had horns--he wasn't afraid of a sissy little pair of pliers! Tom tried to climb into his truck to get away, but Norge blocked the door. Tom was in danger of losing his coveralls when he vaulted over the tire and into the bed of his truck. Norge stood his front feet up on the tire too and looked as though he might jump right in after Tom. Tom made sure the tailgate was up, then, as the big goat was leaning menacingly over the side of the bed, Tom decided it would be safer on the roof. He crawled up there and hollered at Norge, trying to get him to move away. But Norge's tongue was still burning from the careless butt and he wasn't ready to forgive Tom.

Tom looked longingly toward the house, wondering if someone over there would see him and how long it might take for a rescue party to come. He waved his arms and yelled, hoping someone would notice him. He got down and kicked at Norge's upturned face, hoping to fend him off a little so he could jump down and climb in the truck. This just made Norge more angry. Tom thought he might be able to jump down and climb into the truck on the passenger side, but Norge was quick and looked like he would make it to the door before Tom could get in. Besides, Tom was no spring chicken any more, and the ground looked very far away. Tom decided not to risk it. He sat down on the roof and waited. He had a smoke and tamped the cigarette out carefully before tossing it far away from the truck. Perhaps Norge would go fetch it. But Norge was in no mood for cigarette butts. In fact, the gesture seemed to make him angrier, so Tom decided not to toss any more butts.

It was about an hour before Tom saw Mr. Harkins' truck lumbering across the fields toward him. Relief washed over him as Norge ran off to greet Mr. Harkins. Tom climbed down from his perch and quickly jumped into the cab. Thankfully, Norge had had enough of Tom and was content to follow Mr. Harkins back to the barns. Norge eventually forgave Tom, but ever afterwards Tom was very careful always to tamp out his cigarettes before tossing them to the goat.


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## Nanno

Cuzco has had to put up with a lot today. Our cat, Patches, just came into heat for the first time, and the neighbor's tom came to call. They hit it off right away and the tom has decided to take up residence for the time being. Cuzco endured their endless purring, trilling, teasing, and cuddling with what appeared to be long-suffering embarrassment. But when Mr. Tom decided to make his move, Cuzco leaped to his feet in righteous indignation! Like a white knight riding to his lady's rescue, he pounced on the amorous intruder with a lightning-fast jab of the horn.

His love-making interrupted, the hapless tom leaped away from Patches in alarm and streaked under the blanket hanging by the back door. The second time around, he decided it would be safer to go for the quick pounce, and he flew out from his hiding place and landed squarely on top of Patches, hoping to get the job done before Cuzco noticed. But Cuzco was only pretending not to watch! He charged back into the fray and dispatched Mr. Tom with another vicious blow to the ribs. The mood was irreparably damaged by the second interruption, and Patches and Tom both retreated to separate sides of the porch until Cuzco should retire to his shed.


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## Bob Jones

*Re: Snappy comebacks*

My daughter is amazed how many people don't know that they are goats...

"What is that?"
"It's a teenager... she's my daughter. Oh you mean those..."

"What do they carry in the packs?"
"The remains of the last person who asked."

"What do they eat up here?"
"The stuff they carry in the pack."

"Are you going up the mountain to camp?"
"We've been camping in the city, we're finally going home."

"Do they drink water?"
"No, they absorb it from the air through those straws on their heads."

"Why do they have square eyes?"
"To keep them from rolling down the hill when they plop out."

"Can they pull like a dog?
"They.. like ..can, but I don't think the dog would appreciate it.


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## Freedom

:lol: :lol: :lol: :lol: Thanks... I needed that today :mrgreen:


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## Hasligrove

I second that...I love the silent ones...you know..those that just give you the strangest looks, quickly look away, slightly run...you know they are thinking CRAZY! I like that best!


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## Bob Jones

*Re: Comeback*

I usually attract a crowd when loading and unloading, ... Larry picked up a plastic bag...

One lady who probably worked as a checker somewhere smirked and asked "Do your goats prefer paper or plastic?"

"Either one is fine, they are bi-sack-tual. "

No.. I didn't let him eat it.


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## ohiogoatgirl

i love all the stories! i cant wait until i have some stories to tell! here is the on i have so far, it is what i imagine them saying:

milky way: what do you want!
moonbeam: some feed
milky way: NO! its MINE! 
[she butts moonbeam]
moonbeam: fine i'll eat some hay
milky way: NO! thats MINE!
[milky way starts eating hay]
moonbeam: fine i'll eat some grass
milky way: thats MY grass! go eat your own!
[milky way starts eating grass. moonbeam eats her own grass]
*a few minutes later*
milky way: what are you doing
moonbeam: eating some feed
milky way: NO! thats MY feed!
.......

and the circle continues...
ha ha ha!


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## idahonancy

My boys have the same conversation. I have a 4 goat feeder and 3 goats. My slim alpha boy spends more time defending his hay than eating it. My runt is a good size boy and fast on his feet. The alpha pushes him around so he grabs hay on the run. He could careless which hole the hay comes from. My porker goat stand with his head in the hay hole and does not come up for air until the hay bin is empty. The alpha boy does not bother him. You would need heavy equipment to get the porker boy's head out of his hay hole. 
The Oberpacker boys.


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## ohiogoatgirl

nanno: i love that flaing butt story!
bob jones: i know what you mean! everyone thinks mine are weird sheep! sheep!!!!

ya, my moms dog is like that with the dog toys. he never played with any so we stopped buying toys for him, but when my sister got a puppy we got a bunch. he was so mad! he would gather up all the toys and just lay on the living room floor guarding them. the only game they got out of them was the puppy trying to get a toy from the old turd! lol!


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## Bob Jones

*Needs no comeback.*

I was caught speechless.

"Are they fainting goats?"

So many pictures ran through my mind simultaneously that I did not have the synaptic capacity to control my mouth and tongue.

You are happily packing along when the pollen in the air triggers the allergic reactionary sneeze. Being a signal of danger to the goats, they all collapse. Now as they awaken at different rates, the rustling of back packs as each goat tries to stand up from a prone position triggers another mass collapse... and we haven't even got out of the parking lot yet.

The crowd gathers, laughing hysterically. Each goat that awakes promptly faints again. You have the goat version of impersonating pop corn popping.

Yeah, they're fainting goats.... that's a real good idea.


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## Bob Jones

This is a stoopid one, but I'm really just resurrecting this thread:

I had the boys out a couple weekends ago without saddles just for a walk. After the usual courtesies, I explained that they were pack goats. 

The woman asked me what the difference was between a pack of goats and a herd of goats. 

20 IQ points...


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## Nanno

The "picky eater" thread reminded me of a hilarious incident involving Phil's uncle Steve. We gave Steve a treat to feed to Cuzco, and Steve thought he would get "up close and personal" with Cuzco. Steve held the cookie in his mouth and bent down to see if Cuzco would take it from his lips. Cuzco reached up, brushed his lips over the cookie, then ran away snorting and shaking his head like it was the worst thing he had ever tasted in his life! But that wasn't the end of it. 

Cuzco immediately put his head down and began wiping his lips along the ground! He would alternate between snorting and shaking his head and wiping his lips on the ground, on fence posts, on rocks, grass, dirt... anything to get that horrible "uncle Steve" flavor off! That goat must have carried on for fully five minutes before he retreated to his shed in a huff. All of us laughed until we had stitches in our sides. Uncle Steve, of course, has never lived it down and must endure endless jokes about his poisonous breath.


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## McDanAx

That might have won you $10k on Americas funniest videos...


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## ohiogoatgirl

:lol: :lol: :lol: 
thats great! oh my!
i used to feed raisins to my girls from my mouth so people could take pics of the goat "kissing me" :roll:


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## Nanno

I really wish we'd had a camera on us! Watching that goat wipe his lips on the ground was just priceless! 

The other time I really wish I'd had a camera was when my mom was washing a glass door on our new house, and Cuzco was standing on the porch. As my mom scrubbed up and down in a circular motion, Cuzco's head followed her hand exactly the whole time. His head went in little circles all the way from down by the floor, slowly up and up until he was standing on tippy-toe, then back down again. He was so mesmerized. It was hilarious! My mom and I could not stop laughing. I've tried to get him to do it again, but I guess the charm of window-washing wore off. Or maybe my rag hand just isn't as interesting as my mom's. I may have to work on that.


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## Bob Jones

When Mikey first joined us, he'd butt his reflection is a big glass sliding door. I have kept him away from it, so I don't know if he'd still do it or not.


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## Jake Levi

Thanks for these, lot of good laughs here !!!! :lol: 

Bob I sure hope that I can remember your comments when the inevitable happens, who can pass up the really dumb questions ??? Its a sin I think, to deny a clear gift out of the blue.


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## Bob Jones

We can't go anywhere except isolated places without half a dozen people saying "Now, That's something you don't see every day."

Well, actually I do...

I had Pig up the South side of Mount Olympus on Monday. Three different people said we looked like something out of a fairy tale. 

"I don't believe I look anything like Paul Lind or Richard Simmons."


And one guy said, "Your goat carries more than my wife"

... And I don't have to kiss your wife.


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## Jake Levi

You're weird Bob, 

I like that in a person.


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