Vincent, the Uncommon Goat
It turns out that Vincent Van Goat doesn’t like chickpea noodles. His brother, Hans, and stepsister, Louisa, are eating them up quicker than Pac-Man gobbles up dots. These leftover noodles had been hidden in the back of my refrigerator until I discovered them this afternoon. Throwing older food off the porch to the animals is one of my life’s greatest pleasures. Who needs a compost pile or a garbage disposal?!
I’d be even happier if Vincent would jump in and enjoy the unexpected treats, but Vincent is a finicky goat. He reminds me of my granddaughter, Helena, when she was young. Picky, picky, picky! Sometimes when the family was eating out, we’d have to go through a drive-thru afterward to get Helena what she wanted.
However, Vincent isn’t that lucky. I offer treats, and if he balks, as he usually does, Hans and Louisa get the goods. Today, it was leftover chickpea noodles. Tonight it could be blueberries going south.
But Vincent has another quirk: If I hand-feed him the blueberries, he gobbles them up like Pac-Man; if the blueberries are lying in the grass, he wants nothing to do with them.
This is uncommon goat behavior. Everyone knows that goats will eat anything, including your potted plants, perennial tulips and daffodils, and the Crawford County paper you left near your lounge chair. But not Vincent.
In the evening, when the goats go back to their pen to be locked in for the night, I have to watch my back. If I move too slowly as I step back, turn, and lock their gate, they will jump up and shove that gate right into me. There they will stand, their front legs on the gate, heads peering over, waiting for handouts.
In that position, Vincent will eat almost anything. His favorite treats are bananas—Hans’s favorite too—but please take them out of the peel; grapes, but make sure no stems are attached; and strawberries, green stem and all. But if one of those berries, bananas, or grapes should happen to fall to the ground, Vincent acts as if it’s poisoned. The good news is that Louisa, aka The Hoover, saunters in and sucks up any that dropped.
Living with different animal species provides better entertainment than any television set. Dane and I are thrilled to sit on the back deck and observe our resident animals. Each has a unique personality, and Vincent’s personality is foolish, a bit mean, and a little snotty.
Vincent is the first to have been told to get down off the outhouse roof (foolish), the only goat to be yelled at for ramming Louisa in her sweet derriere when he’s impatient with her (mean), and the one that won’t eat any human food off the ground or even in a bowl (snotty).
In the early morning, Vincent jumps up onto his wooden play platform and watches me with his striking black, horizontal pupils set in brilliant blue, making me feel as if the devil himself is glaring at me. If I’m too slow in bringing him his cracked corn, he’ll start butting heads with Hans, who’s also waiting but patiently.
Vincent doesn’t like my youngest dog, Ruben. If Ruben enters the backyard, Vincent dashes to his pen or else runs, kicking out his back legs, to the picnic table, where he’ll hop up and lie down for hours. Eventually, his attention is drawn to the birds at the feeders. He then moseys over, raises his front legs, and hangs on to the feeder while draining it of the seeds I filled it with earlier in the day. Mind you, he won’t touch the fallen seeds, which Louisa and Hans will eat! Only the ones inside the feeders that have yet to spill on the ground.
Aha, I think, gotcha! My Super Soaker is loaded and strategically placed on the back deck rail, directly in front of the bird feeders. I pick it up and take aim. Bingo! Vincent hops down and kicks out both his back legs in fury, all the way to his safety zone, the picnic table. There he sits fuming and watching me with those gorgeous devil eyes.
When it’s time for bed, Vincent joins Louisa and Hans in their pen. I act quickly and close their gate, just as Vincent and Hans jump up for their nighttime treats.
Although Vincent is an uncommon goat, it doesn’t mean he isn’t lovable. We love the silly guy!
