Tales From the Farm, Part 1: A Goat Named Fancy

As a kid growing up on a farm, my brother and I had the opportunity to experience childhood in a way that many have not. When you have access to a pond, a creek, old silos and sheds, farm equipment, meadows, fields and woods, there are endless possibilities. It is a childhood wonderland, if you will. There is freedom to explore, a never-ending fuel supply for the imagination and, for better or for worse....the ability to house many different kinds of animals without breaking some sort of city ordinance.

And that is where today's story takes us.

I'm not sure how old I was when she came into our lives. I'm guessing around second grade, maybe. "She" was just a baby goat. A baby nubian goat to be exact. Nubians have floppy ears and resemble puppies when they are little. Very cute. I don't really know what prompted our family to get a goat. We weren't planning on drinking goat's milk or making goat cheese (although maybe we should have...mmmm, goat cheese...). Maybe it was just a natural progression of life....live on a farm, get a goat, live happily ever after. I'm pretty sure, however, that we got her for two plain and simple reasons: 1) We could and 2) Why NOT??

I believe my mom was responsible for the name "Fancy". I don't exactly know what the goat did that was, you know, "fancy"....but I do know that she was quite a specimen of delightfulness. And isn't that enough?? I remember that she seemed small to even my second-grade self, so she must have been pretty tiny. We would feed her milk from an empty two-liter with a rubber nipple attached to the top. And she would get down on her little goat knees to suck from the bottle. My parents actually have this on home video somewhere. And, as you can imagine, it is nothing short of AWESOME. We would bring her in the house from time to time. Because, again, why NOT?!? My brother and I thought it was the coolest thing EVER!! I remember one time Fancy managed to jump up on top of our early-80's style television with the decorative wood casing all around it. Quite the nimble one, our Fancy.

Greg takes great pleasure in telling people that Fancy lived in our house with us. In fact, if there is anyway he can work the topic into conversation, he will. One would be amazed at just how many times he has managed to weasel this tidbit into seemingly unrelated conversation. Especially with his co-workers. He is shameless, I tell you, SHAMELESS!! And apparently some sort of conversational wizard. I can only imagine what his co-workers think of me.....not to mention what they think of Greg for marrying me. For the record: Fancy DID NOT live in our house. She had her own special abode in one of our OUTDOOR sheds.

Other than the occasional indoor visit, Fancy led a pretty typical goat existence. Grazed in the yard, hung out in her pen, etc. But, folks, I'm sorry to say... all good things must come to an end. You learn some hard lessons growing up on the farm. And one of those lessons is: survival of the fittest. There is some pretty hard core stuff that goes down on the farm. Oh yes, indeed. Our dear, sweet, Fancy met her untimely demise when wild dogs took her to meet her maker. Yes, I know, I said wild dogs. Not coyotes, not wolves.....wild dogs. The only other time in my life that I have witnessed the existence of wild dogs was when I was driving the southern route (through Missouri) from Illinois to Nebraska and literally watched a pack of them cross the road together....little ones, big ones, medium-sized ones...it was crazy. Let me tell you something about wild dogs. They are M-E-A-N. And they don't even care. They will TAKE YOU DOWN and not think twice about it. Fancy knows this all too well. God rest her soul.

So now you know there was a goat named Fancy, and that she saved me....in all the ways a person can be saved...Oh wait, that's a line from Titanic. Sorry. Ahem, I hope you enjoyed the story of Fancy. Hopefully, it taught you some valuable lessons. Such as, stay away from wild dogs AT ALL COSTS!!. And I'm sure you will be happy to know there are many more stories where this one came from. Until next time, my friends.