He’s a goat who’s had a bit of a weight
problem since the cast came off. A free
spirit, butting his way through life. Normal
laws of physics don’t apply to goats but
the old donkey needs to eat in peace, so
I slip my fingers into his collar to move him.
He comes to my side but pulls forward,
running now, straight ahead with quick short
steps in a tilting side-to-side speed waddle.
I know better than to pull back, so I scurry
next to him in an exaggerated race-walk. Some
might call it a side-to-side speed waddle.
Suddenly, the goat turns ninety-degrees in
and my knee makes contact. Up-ended
in a stumble, my feet are thrown high. The
goat hurries a tight circle, taking my arm
along as my body whiplashes through the air.
It would have been a good time to let go.
Crash-landed on soft ground with my hand
twisted into his collar, too tight to pull out.
Deflated ego wondering now what? How
far could he drag me? I see the bottom
of his chin, his collar cutting tight, as he
considers his options under a ruminant sky.