A weblog about all the inconveniences we encounter in everyday life. Diapers, junk food, cruelty to animals, hostile people, rude cell phone behavior, cancer, terrible customer service (also known as "why the hell am I giving this company my money?"), ignorance, parking, bad spelling, family disturbances, office politics, death (the biggest inconvenience of all) and more. Thanks for saving me thousands of dollars in therapy by reading my blog. It might even make you laugh.

Monday, August 21, 2006

Our Goat

We walked up the mountain one day with friends for dinner. Fredi says we didn't really walk up the mountain, but believe me, my fellow Americans, we walked up a mountain for dinner. It took about an hour, so we didn't go the whole way up. But it is the way back down that I want to tell you about, because on the way back down we got a goat.

We didn't mean to get a goat. I suppose the goat really got us. (I wonder where that expression comes from, "I got your goat.") Suddenly when we were almost down to the main street a goat joined us and told us, "Meh, meh, meh." I think she was trying to say, "I'm lost," or "I'm hungry." Or maybe she was trying to say to us, "You're stupid." I don't know.

In any case, we could not, I repeat, could not get rid of her. But we needed to get rid of her, because we were going down to the main road in and out of the valley where, in all likelihood, if left to her own devices, she would be killed by a passing car. Or if she followed us the whole way home we'd have to explain to Fredi's parents that we brought them a goat. And as much as they love us, I don't think they would like the gift of a goat.

So for 45 minutes we tried all we could think of. At first we just shooed her away and said, in various languages and with varying degrees of distaste, "Go away, Ms. Goat." She didn't listen. I suspect she understood, but didn't care. Then Fredi tried to trick her by going in a fence and jumping over. But the gaps were too large and she just came right back through with him. She came up to us and rubbed her horns against us and said, "Meh meh," and then when we really ran at her and tried to chase her away she reeled up in the air on her hind legs and seemed ready to attack. Or play. Hard to tell with a goat.

Then I went up the hill and she followed me. I brought her into a field where she nibbled at the grass. I hid behind a big concrete slab. And it worked. It almost worked. She was content, nibbling away at the grass. I remained very still. I looked for a getaway. But it was too late. She raised her snout up in the air and sniffed for me and, sure as sugar, found me before I could escape.

So we did what any responsible citizen would do. We called the cops. First our friend Marcel called and told them, "We have a goat. Help!" And they basically said, "Screw you. It's your problem. So you've got a goat. We have better things to do," in their polite, cute, Swiss way. But truly, they did not have better things to do. This is the tiny capital of a tiny canton in a tiny country. What could they possibly have to do?

Apparently a woman's touch was needed, so Marcel's girlfriend, Nina, called back and suddenly the police arrived. Of course Fredi knew one of the officers. Fredi knows someone everywhere we go in Switzerland. Even Marcel, who lives in Switzerland, agrees with me and says, "Fredi knows everyone."

Fredi and his friend the police officer shook hands and laughed about our goat. Somehow it had been discovered where this particular goat belonged, and we were free to go. We continued on down the hill back home. Meanwhile the police put on their flashing lights and chased our goat back home to where she belonged. What they did with her once they got there, unfortunately, we will never know. But we will never forget our goat.