Tuesday, March 12, 2013

Saying Goodbye is Hard...Unless You're a Goat

Once the Midway stock show and auction concluded, it became very real to me that my little man would soon be leaving us. All of the other goats were gone before the sun set that day while poor Bruiser hung out. All. By. Himself.

This may not seem like a big deal but the little dude is rather social. More so than any other goat out there so it was a bit of a blow for him. Of course, the longer I dwelled on it the more sentimental I got. Which is how we ended up taking our "final" pic with the guy.


That same sentimentality also led me to put together this precious little collage of our time with him. Hard to believe he was so small, y'all. And I had COMPLETELY forgotten that his tongue was too big for his mouth when we first got him, which meant it hung out the side of his mouth All. The. Time.


While we were under the impression he would be leaving the following morning, I got a text late on Saturday indicating we needed to keep him away from his new home for a few days as they were experiencing a pink eye outbreak.

After picking my jaw up off the ground because who in the world knew goats could get pink eye, I decided to be thankful we had more time with him. Even if it meant another week of early morning feedings.

Bruiser was not nearly as understanding, though. By the time Thursday rolled around, we had to switch him to a different pen because he was so BORED that he knocked his water bucket over repeatedly and FLOODED his very own pen.

At this point, even though we were sad he was leaving the next day, it was obviously time. Or at least I felt that way until I got this text.


Be. Still. My. Heart.

And let's not even talk about the pic I got the next day after he'd been loaded up, which was titled "Goodbye, Momma." 

Unfortunately, the original folks he was supposed to live with were still having pink eye issues so he's at an alternate home. But the people are sooooo awesome. In fact, I even called on Sunday afternoon to make sure he was acclimating well.

Turns out he hasn't missed a beat. He's thriving, mowing grass, and sharing a pen with a bunch of bottle babies who are half his size. He jumped in with all four hooves, snuggled all the babies when it got cold and is just enjoying life in general.

Which is fabulous. I mean, really, it would have broken my heart to have heard otherwise. But the fact of the matter is that we've truly been BROKEN UP about the little guy and his transition.

Was it too much to ask that he have the decency to at least ACT like it was a bit difficult? :-)

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