Page 35 of Grit
Cary nodded. “That makes sense. Dogs are nice, but they don’t give milk or wool.”
“Exactly!” Abby shook her head. “But there’s like… millions of dogs in America but hardly anyone has goats.”
“That’s crazy. I don’t know what people are thinking.”
“I know, right?” She opened the metal door and let Cary in the shed. A wide corral filled with large rocks, a picnic table, old children’s toys, and various and sundry crates had been built off the side of the shed, which shielded the goat corral from the afternoon sun. It was not the neatest setup. He and Melissa had patched it together over the years as Abby’s goat obsession grew.
As they approached, happy bleats of excitement greeted them as six goats jumped and skipped over to see their favorite human.
“Hey, guys!” Abby rubbed the heads of all six goats before she walked deeper into the barn. “Princess,” she sang. “Hey, mama goat! How are you?”
Cary followed Abby into the small kidding pen, which was separate from the main corral. A floppy-eared doe lay in straw with a tiny kid next to her. Cary bent down and watched as Abby filled a plastic tub with oats and brought it to Princess.
He squatted down to examine the new addition to the herd as Abby fed the mother goat. “Pretty cute, kid.”
Abby looked up with a brilliant smile. “Which kid are you talking to?”
“Ha ha. I’m talking to you, human kid. And I’m talkingaboutgoat kid. Boy or girl?”
“Girl. I think I’m gonna name her Lala. I was hoping it would be a girl because I want to learn how to make goat cheese, and if we get more boy goats, that doesn’t do much for me. I already have two boys, and Mr. Tumnus is starting to fight with Aslan. They nearly broke the fence last week.”
“You want to make goat cheese?”
Abby stood. “Yeah. I like goat cheese, and Paula at the farmers’ market said she’d teach me how to make it if I want. And even though I can’t sell goat cheese at the market, I can sell goat-milksoap, and I looked online how to make that and I don’t think it’s very hard. I bet people in Metlin would buy goat-milk soap. Especially if I made it smell really nice.”
She was standing with her hands on her hips in a posture Cary had seen a million times. Though Abby was a combination of both Calvin and Melissa, her expressions came entirely from her mother.
Abby caught his smile. “What?”
“Nothing.” Cary stood. “I think it’s cool that you like goats so much. And you already have plans to do something smart with them. Some kids want a regular job, but your ideas are way better.”
“Thanks.” She sighed. “Mom doesn’t like goats.”
“I think she has more issues with little girls who let their goats out into the garden and aren’t responsible about putting them back.”
“None of them have gotten into Grandma’s garden since last year!”
“So.” He rested a hand on her shoulder. “Give her time to forget. They did destroy all the roses.”
“The roses grew back.”
“Just give it time.” He walked back out to the main goat pen. “Tell me more about the wonder of goats.”
“Did you know they have four stomachs?”
“I did not.”
“They do. And no upper teeth.”
Okay, that was interesting. “Really?”
“None at all,” she said. “See? Goats are fascinating animals.”
“They really are.”
Joan calledAbby into the house for lunch, and Cary got back in his truck and drove to the barn, parking beside the worn structure before he walked to the trailer in back. He knocked on the door and stood back so whoever was inside could see him through the windows.
He’d waited a couple of minutes before he saw the door handle turn. A woman around Joan’s age peered out.
