Pied Piper of the Woods
Life in the middle of 50 acres of woods can be – ah – different. Don’t get me wrong, I prefer it to any other mode of living and can’t wait to get back to it. It still makes for some strange tales. Backwoods and animals go together, we had several. Animals seem to delight in surprising humans, or making them laugh.
Goats are good to have around. They eat all sorts of nasty things other animals wouldn’t touch, like poison ivy and privet. After the garden was done, we let our four roam wherever they wanted to keep back this invasive growth. Now, my husband had been in the habit of taking a long walk in the woods daily (weather permitting) and I often went with him. Within days of gaining their freedom of the property, the goats decided they’d like the walk in the woods too. The dogs, and sometimes the cats, were already following us on these morning treks. Even the chickens would follow as far as the edge of actual woods.
The goats, however, waited for us. If they thought we were late, they’d come to the house to get us. So here we go, walking through the woods trailed by dogs (making side trips to chase rabbits and squirrels), a cat or two (investigating the invisible), and four goats (browsing along the way). If the goats looked up to see us getting ahead of them, they’d bleat for us to wait and come gallumping along to catch up.
Sometimes it felt we were Pied Pipers, gathering animals as we went. Or on military maneuvers. Bella and Tazy, the dogs, switched out taking point and patrolling the flanks of our little troop. The cats were rear guard. The goats would more or less surround us, seemingly oblivious to any hazards. They weren’t of course, coyote packs wandered in the area. They wouldn’t let us go in the woods alone.
Hunting season came. Our son headed off to his tree stand early one morning. They tagged along. He was walking in the woods. He was walking deeper in the woods than they usually went. Gamely, they followed – all the way to his tree stand. Disgusted, he led them home and we had to shut them in the barn until after he left again.
One day, he went to check for tracks and the goats just had to follow. He took a different trail this time. They came to the stream.
Goats truly hate getting wet. I have seen them bolt for the barn at the first sprinkle of rain or flurry of snow. Humans use stepping stones to cross this stream. The goats used the stepping stones too, but they jump. This worked just fine for the first three, but the stone worked loose. The young buck jumped to the stone and was promptly dumped in the stream. He stood up, shaking water from his horns. The others looked on with astonishment. He joined his barn mates with an air of “I meant to do that.”
I look forward to a return to mountains. Probably not the same mountains, but I know we will soon have a collection of animals again to enrich our lives. And too keep us safe in the woods.
