I’ve had you since I was twelve years old, you were one of the biggest things that happened to me in my childhood. I dreamt about goats, then searched all over the internet to find the perfect one…and then I found you.
You were three hours away, yet that didn’t bother me. I made the six hour trip with my family, hauling you and other goats back to your new home. I remember you having a big old fancy registered name, but I settled on “Fatsy” and pretended you didn’t understand what I meant…but you knew.
Although I liked the others, I adored you, Fatsy. We showed together in 4-H for three years straight, you and I- we became pals. I think you liked the fair’s pancakes, potato chips, and ice cream the best though.
At home, you used to follow me around like a dog, and we would talk about everything, or at least I did. Then you grew older and so did I, and together we retired from the showing business.
You lived your life like a retired goat should: eat, sleep, get into the garden, repeat. And although I did more grownup things, we still hung out once in a while.
But then you broke my heart. You’re gone now, and I miss you terribly, hearing your grunting breath and seeing your puffy hair on a cold morning. Tears fall down my cheeks as I write this to you… I think about all the times we had together, and the many lessons you taught me from being with you.
I love this photo of you, Fatsy it was the last one I took of you…taken a couple weeks before you went. It shows your personality perfectly… quiet, yet sassy.
And that’s what I miss the most.