“I think someone around us got a goat as well.”
“Why do you say that?” Doug asked.
“I keep hearing a goat’s cry. I thought yesterday that maybe there was one in the fairgrounds, but I heard it again this morning.”
“It’s a rooster,” he matter-of-factly said.
“What do you think I am stupid? I don’t know the difference between a goat and a rooster? (eye roll) A neighbor definitely got a goat.”
“It’s a rooster. I’m looking at him right now.”
Yesterday, I thought I heard a goat cry again so I ran outside to rescue the baby goats. Twas Henry.
Then I thought a girl was screaming next door. Henry again.
It really is embarrassing. Henry looks so regal and fine as he herds his little ladies around (not the older girls; they will let him have it!) and tries to crow. I imagine he is just a teenaged boy trying to find that manly voice within. Remember when we couldn’t decide if Henry was Henry or Louisa? I guess that answers our question. He’s Henry. Henry Higgins. The screaming girl goat….er..rooster.