I remember when we had our first child, we wanted nothing but the best for her. My wife heard from one of her Hippie friends that fresh goat's milk was the way to go "man." Jackie, my wife said, "Far out! let's do this deed." She then became, I won't say obsessed with goats , but let's just say enamoured and focused on the thought of owning her own goats and her mission to becoming a goat farmer began.
Typical Goat Trailer
Soft Top
"Open Air" Goat Trailer
"I told you I could climb"
One day soon after the goat farmer idea was planted in her head, I was met with a beaming, newspaper holding wife. Now I will take a moment to impart a few words of wisdom to young married fathers. If you are met by your wife, who has just had a new baby and she is excited about an idea that will make her a better mother it does not matter if you have worked a 12 hour shift at a glass factory or if you work midnights. My advice to you is to smile, tell her at that moment that they are the best mother in the world and go with it or you will be very, very sorry. I grew up with many sisters and knew the look and even though I was horrified to the very depths of my soul, I smiled and said "Hi honey what did you find in the paper?" She proceeded to tell me that she found goats for sale and that they were only 50 miles away. She was so excited about starting her goat farm and doing the best for our daughter I couldn't resist her. A trait that after 43 years of marriage I still posses today. I promptly said "okay, let's go." I figured. How bad could it be? We live on a 10 acre farm. It is just a few goats. How hard could goats be? No problem. So off we went.
Pontiac "Goat Trailer"
After what seemed to be 11 hours and a million wrong turns, we finally found the place. 1969 was long before the days of GPS and cell phones, so trips could be daunting. Like many young people we decided we would set off on our goat trip without a trailer because of course magically we could find one once we arrived. At the goat farm, I was put on goat trailer location duty and my wife began the goat negotiations. After awhile I looked over and saw my wife talking to the goat farmer and she was crying. Now this goat farmer was ancient and in many ways had started to resemble his goats. I knew I had to intervene because this old man was standing in between my wife and her babies goat's milk. Quite honestly I was afraid for him. I rushed over to decipher the hysteria and it seems the ad in the paper said "Want Goats" and the ad didn't end in a question mark. Oh no, the goat farmer wanted goats and my wife drove here to get his goats. Knowing my wife she was not leaving here without goats. She was on a mission.
She began her negotiating. Let me tell you, my wife is a skilled negotiator. She is charming, friendly and everyone loves her (ok must-she can be fiesty). She is a powerful little thing, especially when she makes her mind up about something. Truly the goat farmer did not have a chance. He, of course, agreed to let us buy a goat that was milking. There was a catch though. She had a goat buddy whose heart would break if they got separated. We had to take them both. So my wife the skilled negotiator not only succeeded in talking a goat farmer out of a goat he wanted to keep from people he wanted to buy goats from, but now he was offering her a second one as well. Oh and yes, still no goat trailer. My wife is beaming, I am sweating. The feeling of a whole cart of groceries and not knowing if the ATM card is going to work is washing over me. I confess and tell him the unfortunate truth all I had was $20, I can't afford to buy the second goat. My wife begins to tear up again. It is deathly quiet. He thinks for a minute, and he decides to give us the second goat absolutely FREE! My wife is elated.
Typical Goat Farmer
No grass as far
as the eye can see!
Absolute panic sets in. Dare I ask another favor of the man who never wanted to sell goats? I asked the goat farmer if he had a trailer so we could get them home. He said ever so clearly "no I don't." Now I did not mention this earlier but my wife and I are in a Pontiac 2 door coupe, not a pickup truck, a car. My wife smiles with a solution, always looking on the brighter side and says, "I think we can fit them in the back seat." OK there is a limit. I said, "they're not dogs. They're goats with horns and I really don't think they've ridden in a car before." She looked at me with that face I now know so well. The face that says, "we are not talking about this now." That face that states, "I need you to go with me on this." I have learned that going on the journey of her "creativity" instead of fighting her or forcing my own "realistic" ideals has brought more laughter, memories and color to my life than I could ever have imagined. I am glad I did not rob myself of that. Now back to the goats.
Well we never did get that goat trailer. Yes that's right we shoved those two goats, horns and all, into the back of our 2 door Pontiac Coupe. Within 5 minutes the inside of the car was a war zone. The windows were fogged up and every time we would stop at a light, the goats would release their frustration in the back seat. A resounding symphony of simultaneous excretions of which I had never smelled or heard before. We were trapped in that car for what seemed to be a lifetime with those goats. No hope of escape, no fresh air, people passing, pointing and laughing at what looked to be horrifically disfigured children, the ramming of the horns into the back of my seat, the gnashing of teeth, the horrible bleating screams! The goat's kicking and our stomachs hurting from the non-stop laughter of the lengths we will will go for our great ideas. To this day this was the longest 50 miles I have ever driven with my wife. It is the story I love to tell and it is one of the real memories I cherish of our many years together. I am sure you are wondering what happened to Jackie the goat farmer? Well she made it home with her goats, started the goat milking program and 2 weeks later heard raw cow's milk was a better way to go for babies. What the heck, no more goat's milk for our daughter, just fun lawn mowers. She asked me if a small cow could fit in the back seat? Enjoy the video! Remember, your Comments are always Welcomed!
I remember as if it were yesterday, I was driving down I-94 in the now famous Pontiac "Goat Trailer"It was very warm that day 90 degrees and the AC wasn't working but I did have a back up. In those days we called it a "460" (4 windows down at 60 miles per hour) At that time I was working at the Chevrolet plant in Ypsilanti (pronounced Ipsilati). It was a huge plant which at that time built the biggest POS ever to take the open road, The Chevrolet Nova. The Covair was made and put to rest there. So we were 2 for 2.
This was a very hostile union plant and if you weren't driving a GM product bad things would accidentally happen to your ride, if you know what I mean. Any Ford product parked in the plant lot was a car fire waiting to happen.
Lepus Everywhere!
I'm getting way off track here. Back to the story, my wife worked for a small local grocery in nearby Belleville and she would always take stuff home to feed the goats, horses and rabbits. I say rabbits because my wife didn't want them caged up. So one day we opened their cage and let them run free.
"Honey Wagon"
I keep Dejevuing, any way I'm driving down I-94 and I keep smelling a "Honey Wagon" (garbage truck) behind me, in front of me, beside me, I was awash in stink! But I was the only car on the road, I'm thinking. the goat poop and pee has somehow returned with a vicious vengeance, I felt like Seinfeld after the BO guy." I've gotta sell this car". It kept getting worse and worse. I finally pulled into the driveway, did a Capt Kirk onto the drive way and I could still smell it. It was coming from the car! A very strange feeling came over me. Could it be, no, could it be coming from the trunk, did she kill somebody at work and forgot about the body. I was afraid to open it. I finally did, The whole trunk was full of the most stinky, rotten watermelons you ever smelt.
When she finally came home, I asked her about it. Her response "I got them free from work, they were for the animals, I forgot about them!" I asked how long ago did you get them. "about a month ago" Another mystery solved. Wait until you hear the "Horse Apple" story! Oh! my wife wrote a song about me. Take a listen.
til next time
