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"Dumb
Animals"
Christine
Maccabee
 Have
you ever
gone on a
hike in
Glacier
National
Park along
the Garden
Wall
(border of
U.S. and
Canada)
and chased
wild
mountain
goats over
the
boulders,
bounding
and
leaping
after them
until they
are
cornered
and
trembling
with
fright? I
have.
Perhaps my
experience
with those
wild goats
years ago
has shaped
my present
opinion of
domesticated
goats
today.
I've never
thought of
any animal
as dumb,
but as I
work with
my goats I
can see
what
forces may
have
shaped
this
opinion of
them. It
is not
their
fault that
they are
unable to
perfectly
obey our
every whim
and
demand.
Naturally,
they will
not always
conform to
our will,
nor can
they, for
they have
a unique
will of
their own,
quite
different
from that
of the
human
being.
Animals
are only
dumb so
far as
we've made
them that
way
through
domestication
and
breeding:
Certainly
God did
not create
them dumb.
Rather,
just the
opposite
is true.
Goats and
other
beasts of
bur-den,
or
suppliers
of food,
were
originally
created
with all
the tools
and the
instincts
they
needed in
order to
survive in
the wild.
It is we
who made
them dumb
by making
them
totally
dependent
on us for
their
every
need. ,
However,
there are
times
(more than
I can
count)
when I've
called my
goats
"dumb,"
even
"stupid."
Yes, I
confess
it.
However, I
am
beginning
to see
that
"dumb" is
just a
handy word
through
which we
vent our
frustration,
or flaunt
our
supposed
superiority.
However,calling
our
animals
bad names
is a far
better
outlet for
human
frustration
than
hitting or
abusing
them.
Other
uncomplimentary
words
commonly
used by
myself and
others are
"dumb-ass,"
"big-butt,"
idiot."
and
"silly." a
word
verging on
the
affectionate.
All the
above
words can
be spoken
in such a
way as to
convey not
only
frustration.
but
affection
as well.
Of course,
there are
many, many
other more
unsavory
expressions
used by
some
people
(not me)
which are
totally
unfit to
print
here. As
much wit
of our own
as we use
to control
our goats,
they
frequently
equally
match us
with their
own
startling
wit.
Sometimes
I worry
that my
one goat,
FleetFoot,
purposefully
gives me a
hard time
just to
get even
with me.
After all,
it must
get tiring
to be
tugged on
and
squeezed
on a
regular
basis just
to give me
the milk I
desire.
For
instance,
about two
months
ago, I
decided to
try
milking
FleetFoot
without
tethering
her back
feet. This
was a
wonderful
relief for
us both,
and I
sensed she
welcomed
it. So
long as I
kept up an
even
rhythm and
put a bit
of extra
corn in
her feed,
she was
content.
At least
it worked
for two
days that
way. By -
the third
day she
was
beginning
to fall
into her
old
pattern,
so I was
forced to
tether her
feet for
the last
half of
the
milkings.
"You dumb
goat!" I
would say.
As time
went on,
however,
she began
to see
that no
tether
felt
better,
and so
milkings
progressed
quite
peacefully
until one
day...
...almost
as if she
had it in
for me, in
the blink
of an eye,
the tip of
her hoof
was placed
strategically
on the
edge of
the pail
and in a
flashthe
milk was
all over
the stand,
and all
over me! I
was
astounded
by her
perfectly
accurate
placement
of hoof on
pail and
the
swiftness
with which
she moved.
I would
not have
thought
she was
purposefully
trying to
dump the
milk
except
that she
did the
exact same
thing the
next day!
This is
one
determined
wild goat
who
refuses to
be
otherwise.
I am
convinced
she knows
what she
is doing
and is
doing it
to get my
goat. What
do you
think?
Goats are
ancient.
Goats are
mythical.
Goats are
WILD. It
is this
wildness
which I
appreciate
even more
than their
ability to
learn
human
rules for
their
behavior.
Over the
eons
humans
have
domesticated
them, and
much like
the ant
and the
aphid, we
serve one
another in
a unique
and
satisfying
arrangement.
It is
anyone's
guess
whether
the goats
we work
with
respect
us, though
we
certainly
should
respect
them. They
in no way
asked to
become our
servants,
but, in
making
them our
slaves,
we.
ironically.
in turn,
must serve
them,
wining and
dining
them and
keeping
them
healthy—an
altogether
natural,
symbiotic
relationship,
unnatural
as it may
seem.
I have to
wonder
what is
really
going on
in the
minds of
these
naturally
intelligent
animals.
As they
eat our
hay, do
they
imagine
they are
dining on
live,
sweet
grasses in
some
distant
meadow? Or
perhaps
they are
dreaming
of freedom
beyond the
fence, a
life spent
leaping
from rock
to rock on
the slopes
of the
Garden
Wall in
the Rocky
Mountains.
Whatever,
they are
truly a
mystery,
as are we
all'
Read
other Articles by Christine Maccabee
The
on-going
true life
adventures
and
reflections
as I've
raised my
Nubians
over the
past five
years.
This
collection
of stories
happily
resulted
in the
birthing
of a
little
book. It
includes
fun
photographs,
including
one of my
Great-grandmother
and her
goat-in-
Baltimore
in the
early
1900's, as
well as
delightful
sketches
of goats
by Marie
Maccabee.
Cost $15
give me a
call
(3p1-271-2307
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