Getting my goat…with actual goats

By Tiber

Since my father found out I’d been outsourced and was back here, living at home…okay, fine, back here, hiding out at home, he’s been saying I should set up new job interviews.

“I’ve already been to some, Dad. “

“And?”

“And I haven‘t gotten anything. So far.”

“Well,” he sighed, “ I’ll ask around but lots of companies aren’t hiring right now.”

“I know.”

“And you have to do something.”

“I know that too.” And then casually, he just now dropped his potential “solution” to the problem.

“Maybe there’s a job you can do around here. I know you get along with Fletcher, that goat that Iris Nell just rescued. And I’ve been thinking of getting him some female companions. Could be something for you there. Goat cheese or something. We‘ll see.”

This is horrific. I don’t know anything at all about taking care of a whole gang of goats! Wait, no. It’s not “gang,” is it? It’s “herd” of goats. See? I can’t do this! Five minutes with them and I’d turn them into a gang.

Of course, when my brother, Duncan, heard about this, he couldn’t stop laughing. He said he would speak to Cook for me. Not for any dairy tips but because Cook’s real name is Heidi.

“And just like the Swiss Heidi in those little girl books, maybe she’ll have some outfits you can wear!”

The days have been going by so quickly but I really must remember to set aside some time to kill my brother.

Going and begging for my old job back is a humiliating thought – but I’m thinking of doing it. I may have had some bad days there but, with relieved certainty, I can say this much about it. I never once had to milk anybody.

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