Our sweet uni-horn goat, Gideon, wasn’t doing well so we brought him inside to nurse him in the hopes that he would pull through but it was just his time.
He was this beautiful, very fuzzy kitty size baby when Lucy, spotted him squeezing under the fences and following her happily around as she trailed bits of corn from her pockets. She was six years old at the time and running around wildly at a friend’s birthday party at Marshall Farm, adoring everything in sight.
It was instant love and she wouldn’t leave that critters side. I snapped a picture of the two of them and sent it to her daddy with a teasing caption “PLEEEEEEEASE can we bring him home?”
Less than an hour later, Dale rumbled up in his dad’s old truck, hopped out and headed for the barn. It turned out that the owner at the time was a guy he was friendly with, a regular where he worked, and within 20 minutes he strode over, kissed us and left.
I dragged a very reluctant and weepy Lucy home, goatless, and set about dinner. Dale left to “run a quick errand” and returned a short time later with not one, but TWO baby goats, Gideon and Gabriel. We baby-gated them in the kitchen until we could build a small enclosure for our newest additions.
Gideon broke the same horn so many times getting into hijinks with Gabriel that the vet couldn’t set it anymore and finally had to cut it off, leaving him with only one mighty and proud horn. Our very own magical uni-horn.
Like most of our life’s adventures, this one didn’t have a plan at the start, or even a vague notion of which way we were headed, but we were all in, all the way. The rest, as they say, is history.
Over a decade later, our tiny, chaotic, completely unplanned, lovely farm has grown to include many chickens, ducks, bunnies and dogs, each one an odd member of our own chaotic, completely unplanned, lovely family.
Gideon is already missed.