Goatscapades and What Makes Little Girls Cry

B – our residential herbalist, inventor, tailor, and jeweler. She has strangled snakes, shot deer (accidentally), and generally stolen hearts since the first day those big brown eye opened.

Her nemesis – Willy Wonka, the Dark, and being alone.

Today we were home alone working through lesson plans and history books. When the sun set she was all set to go put the chickens away , feed the goats, and round up the cats. By the time she had cajoled the cats into the garage the sun had set forcing her to confront her fears.

Twenty minutes later she was crying her eyes out and continued to do so until she had made it to the chicken coop and back under my watchful eye. By the time I got her back inside to eat dinner and be calmed with hot coco (two bags and a peppermint stick) she could barely speak intelligible English she was sobbing so hard.

Between bites of sausage and hiccoughs she managed to regain her speech while I asked her about why she was scared. We ended up talking about Joshua and Jesus and why they were so courageous.

Twenty minutes later we had to put up the goats… Not only did she stay calm, but every time she saw a shadow she told me what it was. She ended up facing her fear and growing because of it.

While we are discussing goats, I have a question. Is it normal for male goats to jump on every intruder into their domain… or is it just me?

– W

 

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