When I returned from a trip to Missoula today around 1 p.m., I drove up to the house to find our letter carrier, Jackie, talking with Alayne. Margaret and her go-at sisters were milling around, having come up to greet Jackie and then inspect the packages she had just delivered. The goat girls were alternately chewing on the packing tape or standing on the boxes.
After Jackie left and Alayne and I went into the house for a quick lunch, Margaret stood at the back gate, bleating incessantly at the house. She knew I was inside and she knew I could hear her through the open kitchen window. At this point we were sitting down, eating, while the dining table was circled by dogs (blind Helen the Rottie, blind Callie the Dachshund, blind Goldie, blind Widget and assorted other hangers-on). I got up, went out to open the gate, and let Margaret follow me into the house.
I sat back down at the table to resume eating, confident that Margaret would remain in the kitchen, behind the circle of dogs ringing the table.
The next thing I knew, she had "parted the waters," so to speak, elbowing her way through the mass of dogs and coming right up to my chair. Widget had already occupied one side, woofing and singing for a morsel of my sandwich, so Margaret made herself at home on my other side.
Alayne sighed and then muttered something like, "I can't believe this is happening," and went to get the camera.
Margaret, watching Widget standing up on her hind legs, front paws on my lap, decided this was apparently the appropriate lunchtime behavior to model. Suddenly I had a small goat standing up on her hind legs, resting her front hooves at first on my arm and then on my lap.
I turned to her and said, "Margaret, what are you doing?"
At this point, Widget — sensing there was some new and unexpected competition at hand — began an even more determined howling:
Margaret, sensing she was breaking some new ground here, wanted to have her portrait taken for posterity's sake:
Me, I wasn't sure how I managed to get myself in this situation:
As for Alayne … well, she grumbled as she finished taking these photos, "I just hope people realize we don't let livestock in the house on a regular basis." Margaret wondered what she meant by "livestock," and I wondered what she meant by "regular." (Having been married to an attorney for 14 years, I've learned one can parse the meaning of almost any word indefinitely.)
As for Margaret … right after Alayne put the camera away and I started in on the last part of my sandwich, Margaret leaped right on top of the table. In a single jump, she went from floor to table. Egads.
Bad, bad girl!!! Margaret was promptly scolded and then gently but firmly escorted from the premises.
Let's hope none of the dogs model that behavior!
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Two hours later, when UPS showed up, there were two guys in the van — our regular driver and a new one in training. Margaret went over to greet them and I introduced her to the new guy. After handing me the package, they got back in the van … and Margaret climbed up the steps and into the cab right behind them. I called her out of the vehicle, but then she turned around and climbed right back in again. She stood there between both UPS guys. All three were looking at me. I finally had to get in and shoo her out, then block the van door so they could pull away without a goat on board. I bet they weren't 20 yards down the drive before the new UPS guy asked our regular driver, "Say, is it always like that at this place?"
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