BASKET O' SHEEP FROM THE BUNNY
So......the best laid plans of goats and Mimi......
Saturday dawned with high winds, knifing temps, icy rain and a bleak outlook for taking wee nippers and elderly seniors out to a wide open farm. So we held a democratic meeting and the decision was made to not make the trip to Crackerbox Palace, much as it pained us.
And then the tears began. (For once, not mine.)
Seems one of our four year olds was devastated.........that she couldn't ride the school bus.
This, in turn led to more tears by the domino effect and I found myself blurting out loud: "What if we get on the school bus....go to Farmer's farm.....and GET GOATS?!"
Farmer, who was really looking forward to his busman's holiday to a working farm and was sitting in his 'good' clothes on the other side of the room, is very, very good at hiding his thoughts.
Which was fortuitious as I'd alread said the whole thing out loud.
So, while most of my seniors stayed behind with the promise that I would return with Darla, the rest of us climbed on the bus and set off for Farmer's nearby farm.
Darla was in her glory to have her lead snapped on and pulled me pell-mell to the door of the bus.
Up the stairs she went and immediately to the back of the bus where all the cool kids were sitting.
(Seems if you are a 7 year old boy......the back of the bus is a mystery to be explored. And if you are a three month old goat...even better.)
Farmer loaded up Meg who, while handled daily and is always up for a snuzzle, was indignant at being taken from her Maa and caused a ruckus until one senior, who had a fondness for goats, got that look in her eye that I had when I first laid eyes on Darla and had herself a healing goat cuddle. Something everyone should have.
We thought better of taking any but Darla to the senior center so we head off with her playing safety monitor and happier than a goat in grain to be with, what she sees as, her Tribe. People.
The rest of the morning was spent playing Chase the Goat! Oh No, The Goat Is Chasing Me!
and Connect the Cheerios. (Darla doing the connecting.) We colored our wooden art projects and inspected egg boxes the Bunny had left at my house the night before. And we all learned The Goatie Chant. ("Is that a potato? Is that a pear? Is that my goat in UNDERWEAR?")
No one remembered that this wasn't where we we're supposed to be.
I am always truly amazed at the response I get from Darla. Seniors become misty eyed remembering a favored pet, the children are fascinated by being able to feed and touch such a 'wild' animal. It's always special to see their faces when they discover that horns are warm, that's my favorite part. And I swell with pride when I see the brand of community Darla is able to foster.
Bless Farmer for feeling the same way.
And so we, Darla and I, have yet another unexpected magical goatie adventure.
Life is good.
And the wheels of the bus go 'round.