23 September 2018

Weirdness

This morning, before daylight, I was outside with the dog and heard Molly and Maggie crying.  I was worried one of them got caught in the fence, but no ... when hubby and I got back there with our headlamps on, those two had their butts up against the pen gate and were crying and doing the shameless-hussy routine for Brownie (aka Pepe Le PEW, this time of year).  So, I got in touch with Frank, who has Prim's son Harry Houdini, to arrange a goaty booty call.  We loaded her up in a dog crate in the back of the pickup and headed up to Frank's place north of Palatka.

Harry was certainly interested in Maggie as soon as she went into the pen, and she immediately squatted and peed for him, and the normal goat courtship dance commenced until Cocoa (Chocolate's daughter, and Cocoa Puff's mom) and Toast (Harry's wethered son)came over to interrupt.  Cocoa was jealous ... she really hasn't changed much in that department, and Toast was just excited because a "new" goat was back in the pen.  We left Maggie there, and will pick her up Thursday to give the love-goats enough time to work around the jealousy.  We also left the dog crate at Frank's, so the truck bed had plenty of room for the feed run.

Driving back into Palatka, after we had reached a decision on where to grab some fast (junk) food for lunch, we got pulled over by a sheriff's car.  He had drove up alongside us as if he was going to pass then dropped back and turned on his lights.

"Are we getting pulled over?"  "I think we're getting pulled over."

The babyfaced deputy walked up and didn't take hubby's license and insurance card, but said someone had called in saying we had a wounded doe in the back.  Now, Maggie is a rather vocal goat, and she was certainly complaining all the way up to Frank's, and she is also the goat whose coloring is closest (but not identical!) to a deer's.  However, there are also quite a few goat people who call their billies and nannies "bucks" and "does" just like the deer terms.  So, we heard "doe" and were thinking goat, for obvious reasons.  When we said we took her up to a friend's to be bred, he asked if we had the proper permit with us, or if he needed to call FWC (Florida Wildlife Commission) about it.  At that point, I realized he was thinking deer, and said, "No.  We have GOATS!"  That cleared things up.  He told us bow (hunting) season has already started.

Yeesh.  Apparently, someone thought we had a deer-doe, and that the deer-doe was crying and must have been wounded.  When I told Frank about it, when he got done chuckling he mentioned we should probably mark the pickup "Goat Transport" and of course, put "No kidding!" across the tailgate.  I had already brought the subject of marking the pickup with ALL the species we do to make the farmers' markets a bit easier.  My friend Lynn's comment was, "Gee, don't people know the difference between deer and goats?!?  Really?!?"  Apparently not, not even down here.

Oh yeah, to top it all off ... the register at Tractor Supply did a weird error.  I put my chip card in to pay, and instead of asking for my PIN it opened the cash drawer and printed a receipt saying I paid in cash.  It took a phone call to the regional help desk to fix that on the computer from their end.

I had to say my usual punchline: "More than just a job, it's an adventure!" when we were just about home.