The Goat And I

This is the Little Dude. He was a quadruplet. His mom died and we raised him as a bottle baby. Needless to say, he is a permanent addition to the farm.

The Little Dude

The Little Dude and my nephew Liam have grown up together. Here they are when they were both just little.

Liam and the Little Dude (2011)

Every time I see them together I think of a poem by Robert William Service called The Goat and I. 

And since spring is upon us and my goats help me forget about the world’s worries, I thought it would be appropriate to share the poem with all of you. Enjoy.

The Goat and I

Each sunny day upon my way
A goat I pass;
He has a beard of silver grey,
A bell of brass.
And all the while I am in sight
He seems to muse,
And stares at me with all his might
And chews and chews.

Upon the hill so thymy sweet
With joy of Spring,
He hails me with a tiny bleat
Of welcoming.
Though half the globe is drenched with blood
And cities flare,
Contentedly he chews the cud
And does not care.

Oh gentle friend, I know not what
Your age may be,
But of my years I’d give the lot
Yet left to me,
To chew a thistle and not choke,
But bright of eye
Gaze at the old world-weary bloke
Who hobbles by.

Alas! though bards make verse sublime,
And lines to quote,
It takes a fool like me to rhyme
About a goat.