Do you remember this song from your childhood days? "Do your ears hang low, do they wobble to and fro - can you tie them in a knot, can you tie them in a bow?"
Well, Becky, my pet Nubian goat, could wobble her ears - and wobble she did - as she pranced all over Mother's flower gardens and rose bushes nibbling them down to stubs. She was my baby, my pet, my friend and confident. I never saw her as a menace. To me - she was just about the best pet I could ever get. True love, seen through the eyes of a child.
Sure, I had a wonderful and faithful dog, and a soft and cuddly cat. We had horses, pigs, steers, rabbits, chickens, ducks...but Becky held a huge place in my heart. She had personality. She was curious. She was playful. She was naughty. She would nibble and kiss my face and then turn and butt me in the back, tail wagging all the while.
I cannot think of spring without thinking of Becky, especially up here in our mountain home. The grass is just peeking up from the ground, sweet and perfect for nibbling. I have lots of memories of Becky, but this one is the funniest, I think.
One day the milkman came to the ranch house to deliver groceries for my mother. He came into the house and was having a chat with my mother. Then, I could hear them laughing and calling my name. They told me to look out the window. Becky was inside the milkmans truck, standing on the driver's seat with her front hooves up on the steering wheel, looking as though she were going for a drive!
Becky thought she was a dog. She liked to lay on the back porch with our family dogs. She happily ate their dog food and nosed her way in for attention whenever she could. She liked to go with us on horse rides, too - the dogs would trail along, and there would be Becky, part of the pack.
Becky was an escape artist, which I have since learned is a trait of Nubian goats. We could not keep her in her pen unless she had other animals with her. She was more content with the horses, even the pigs, than to be alone. My brother and I could never figure out how she got out. He used to say she had wings. We thought maybe she climbed the chain-link fence, but we never saw her do it.
Becky died when I was away at college. My dad buried her out in the back field, not too far from the backyard. Today there stands an enormous palm tree just over the place where he buried her. She must have had a tummy full of seeds when she died.