The sound of the doorbell broke my nice post-holiday slumber. I ignored it on the assumption Terri or one of the kids would separate themselves from whatever screen they were attached to and answer it.
The second ding reinforced my belief that no one in the house but me answers a ringing doorbell. I was off the couch and down the hallway when I caught sight of a man peering into one of the little side windows at the door like a nosy neighbor.
“Oh, brother,” I mumbled, opening the door to see the man standing in front of me. He was dressed in brown overalls and a baseball cap.
Behind him was a goat.
The goat was off-white, a few stops away from gray. It had a red bow on its head, the kind you find on a present. It was staring peacefully at me as if we knew each other.
“I’m Justin,” the man said. “This here is Chomper.”
“Chomper?” I asked.
“Actually it’s Susie. I just made Chomper up ‘cause you don’t look like someone who would name his pet Susie.”
I smiled and said, “Well, that’s good, because you know what else I don’t look like? I don’t look like someone who would have a goat as a pet. Now if you’ll excuse me I have to go back to sleep.”
I was closing the door on Justin and the goat when Terri came bounding down the stairs.
“Who’s at the door, honey?” she asked.
“A man with a goat,” I said, closing the door.
She went from uninterested to excited in a flash.
“Kids, kids, the goat is here,” she yelled.
There were shrieks of excitement and I wondered where all the energy was a minute ago when the bell rang.
“You know about the goat?” I asked.
Terri blurted out an explanation while reaching past me for the doorknob.
“This is the Christmas present we told you about. The one that didn’t get here in time,” she said. “Remember we said there was something on the way?”
“I thought maybe it was a new phone,” I said. “Or maybe the new PlayStation. This is the year I was hoping to take up video gaming. A goat really wasn’t one of my guesses.”
It was too late. Terri had the door open and was talking to Justin the goat man.
“Honey, this is Justin from Got Your Goat,” she said.
“Yes, we met,” I said.
“He’s been so helpful throughout the whole process,” she said.
I looked at Justin. Helpful wasn’t a word that came to mind. Alive was also a stretch. Justin was decidedly low-key. Maybe it came from being around goats.
“He’s been great about making sure we get the best goat for your needs,” Terri said.
My needs, I thought. Had I been exhibiting signs of needing a goat? I wasn’t really sure what those signs would be. Occasional irritability? Well, sure. But that was usually the sign a drink may be needed, or possibly exercise, but not a goat.
The kids were here now to add to the excitement.
“Its soooo cute. And the bow…”
“Can it come inside?”
It was the most enthusiasm exhibited by a high schooler and a college student in months.
Justin and Terri were exchanging paperwork like it was a routine transaction, maybe for a car or an appliance.
“Ah, honey,” I said moving past the kids to get close to Terri. “Can I have a word with you?”
She was going a hundred miles a hour, distracted and taking care of business.
“Sure, let me just get Justin squared away,” she said.
“Let’s not square him away just yet,” I said. “Maybe we let the kids chat with him for a bit while we talk.”
We moved from the foyer to the hallway.
“It appears I’m not going to be waking from this dream slash nightmare anytime soon, so I have to assume this is real. Could you tell me why a goat is about to join our family?”
She smiled and said, “To help you.”
“Is this like some emotional support animal thing?” I asked. “We already have Butch for that.”
Which reminded me that our dog was MIA during this entire event. I needed to have a word with Butch later about his lack of interest in not only the ringing doorbell, but the stranger with the goat. Some barking and growling might have scared off the goat and prevented this from snowballing.
“You know how you’re always complaining about all the yard work, and wanting to clear that overgrown part of the backyard?” she asked. “Well, goatscaping is big now. The goats take care of all the weeds, and apparently are just wonderful to have around.”
I saw Butch waddling down the hall from the kitchen. He strolled past us if we weren’t there. He reached the front door and whimpered at the goat, and was promptly led outside by our daughter, who lifted him up for a closer look at Susie. Butch gave the goat a little lick on the cheek.
“Oh, and look, Susie will be a great companion for Butch,” Terri said. “She’s already made herself right at home.”
I shook my head. “I’m not sure this is a good idea,” I said.
“Why?” Terri asked. “Goats are environmentally friendly, and incredibly efficient. They eat weeds. What’s not to like about that? You don’t have to hire anyone to come in and clear all that brush. You’ve been dreading doing that for years.”
Justin was in the house now, and the kids were outside with the goat. This had slipped away from me in a hurry.
“And what exactly is the goat doing when it’s not eating weeds?” I asked.
“Being one of the family,” Terri said.
“Outdoors, I’m assuming, hoping and praying,” I said. “Or is that something I’m missing as well? That goats are indoor pets.”
“I keep mine right in the house,” Justin said.
I looked at him, said nothing, and silently commended myself on my patience and self-control.
“Oh, Susie definitely stays outdoors,” Terris said. “I thought we could set her up back by the shed. The kids promised they would help care for her.”
“That will probably be right after I give them the lesson on how to operate a dog leash so they can walk Butch, who they also promised to take care of.”
It occurred to Justin that now would be a good time to test my newfound patience.
“You know most people end up getting a second goat,” he said, with a degree of tone deafness that was impressive. “Goats are very sociable and get attached to each other. Sometimes they get super sad when they’re on their own.”
“Justin,” I said, nodding toward the door. “I think Susie is looking for you. Maybe it would be best for you to leave the house.”
Terri gave me a hug and a kiss and said, “Oh, it will be great. Goats make fantastic pets.”
She went outside to join in the warm welcome for Susie, and as she did Butch strolled back inside. He meandered past me, looked up at me and kept going to the kitchen.
“Thanks for nothing,” I said, as he passed.