The Non-Boring Post

Once upon a time, there was a crazy farmer lady who lived on a small homestead in NY.

She had chickens and ducks, geese and rabbits and goats, and was very happy. 

Then one day she got to thinking

Yes, I really do look that tired.  I wanted this true to life. 
If you look in the back on the right upper corner, you'll see Lilly and Minerva eating the tree they're not supposed to eat.

"Hmmm...," she thought, "Stewart is going to have to move out of the girls' pen next month.  He's the only male and will be all alone.  Though I enjoy his bellowing, I think he's going to go nuts and be lonely.  I need to find another male."

Please don't let me be lonely!!

So the crazy farmer lady started to make arrangements to take a buckling from her friend, if her girls had one.  The crazy farmer lady had been helping her friend out a lot and spent hours and hours doing things for her, so the crazy farmer lady's friend wanted to give her a goat to thank her.  Of course, the crazy farmer lady did not object, because being paid in goats is awesome. 

Anyway, the crazy farmer lady's friend's goats did not have a boy.  They had girl after girl after girl.  And the crazy farmer lady was still worried, because Stewart was still going to be alone.

"Hmm...," thought the crazy farmer lady, "I think I'm going to have to take matters into my own hands."

Spoiler alert!

"I think I'm going to have to find a male on my own!"

And so the crazy farmer lady looked and looked and finally found a male that was a pure Alpine, born on March 17th. 

So the crazy farmer lady went to look at him and discovered that he wasn't alone.  There were three of them!  But the crazy farmer lady had to choose--she only needed one male.  Of the three, one looked just like Minerva, so that ruled him out, because she liked variety.  Another was white and brown and black and spunky and wild and crazy, and the last was his brother, white and brown and black and kinda quiet and had a little trouble with his legs.

"Hmmmm...," thought the crazy farmer lady as she looked them over, "The smart money would be to pick the wild and spunky and crazy one, because he's running around like a loon, and will be a great herdsire, which is what I want.  I don't want to take the boy who needs a little extra TLC."

But the crazy farmer lady isn't called the crazy farmer lady for nothing, and is in fact a total sucker.  So when the quiet little boy with the little leg trouble came and sat on her lap and sucked on her finger, the crazy farmer lady totally caved in.

And brought him home.

And named him Maxwell.

And she splinted his front legs with tape so he wouldn't knuckle on his fetlocks, and she boosted his selenium, gave him some Probios, and called it good.  And three days later, he had straightened his legs and started to skibble, so the crazy farmer lady pronounced him healed.

But in the meantime....

The little boy of the house (not the goat, the human) got very very sick.  Ambulance sick.  Hospital sick.  And the crazy farmer lady got a bit crazier with worry, because her little boy was so sick.  And Maxwell didn't understand why the crazy farmer lady wasn't spending as much time with him, but the lady was doing the best she could. 

Then the little boy's cat died.

And the crazy farmer lady felt completely helpless and lost a LOT of sleep. 

But then after a little time, the little boy started to feel better, and the crazy farmer lady started to worry slightly less, and quite frankly, had to get out of the house for a while, so she went to see her friend again and help out.  And she spent some time outside with the babies that were there, and played with them and there was one in particular who was being extremely feisty, and well, the lady has always liked feisty.

And the lady's friend still wanted to give her a goat, even though it would be a female.

And the crazy farmer lady thought that maybe, just maybe, a little tiny goat would be a nice pick-me-up for her sick little boy, since Maxwell had become quite attached to her, and didn't really pay attention to the little boy.  Maybe a little tiny girl goat would get attached to her little boy, and make him feel better.

So the crazy farmer lady agreed. 

 

And brought home another goat.

 

And named her Cynthia.

And Cynthia is everything that Maxwell is not.

She is tiny,

And black as tar,

And whereas Maxwell has ears,

Cynthia has none to speak of.

And where Maxwell is careful and timid,

 

Cynthia is a "go get 'em" kinda girl.

But she's rubbing off on Max, and they are the best of friends.

Even though they both wear their diapers a little differently,

they can still both fit on the same lap.

And the best part?  Cynthia loves the little boy, and screams like a banshee when he goes away.

And the little boy is happy (even though she's not a cat).

And the crazy farm lady is very happy, too.

The End.