Goat Attack
Gretchen, Age 12, Atwater, CA

I wiped the sweat from my brow just as I stepped in a large pile of poo placed there by goats just seconds before.  I wanted to scream but I dare not or else all the goats would stop munching on the Queen Palms and scatter.  I did not want to complete another hour’s work.  By my side was my loyal dog Phoebe.  I remembered when I had received her two years ago and since that very day we could always count on each other in our times in need.  I gave a heavy sigh of relief, finally all the goats were still.  Phoebe looked up at me with eager eyes as if saying “let's go get 'em!”

I just laughed and shook my head.  I punched in my dad’s cell phone number with shaky hands.  I was exhausted.

“What should I do?” I asked.  “Let them out.”, he answered. 

I walked across the yard and opened the gate.  I waited patiently as my dog herded them all out.  As the last goat trotted out the gate I smiled and gave another heavy sigh as I thought about the homework that awaited me inside.

I watched Phoebe crawl back to her dog house where she curled up and fell asleep.  As soon as I walked in the door I heard my sister, Sadie, yell, “Gretchen!  Gretchen!  Get out here!”  I ran outside, hoping nothing had gone wrong.  I walked outside just in time to hear a shrill scream.  “Ahhhhhhhhhhh!!!  My garden! Get out of garden! Get out of my garden you little demons!!!!!”

The mean old lady across the street had found the goats.  I giggled as I watched her chase them out of her garden with a broom soon they were all back out on the street.  I watched the Ewings dial animal control, and all of a sudden I felt horns growing out of the top of my head.  I felt no pain for the owners of the goats because they had made us slave every day that week trying to get their goats back in their pasture and they hadn’t helped one bit.  Maybe this would teach them a lesson.  Not much later the animal control officers arrived with a large trailer.

I sat on the curb and watched intently as the over weight animal control officers ran around the streets chasing the goats with nets and sticks hoping to catch at least one.  After a half an hour not one goat had been captured and even I became tired watching them run around in the hot sunny heat of August.  Phoebe had been scratching at the gate the whole time she finally figured out how to dig under the fence.  She raced down the driveway and bit the heel of a goat.  The goat was led right into an animal control officer.  He grabbed it off the ground with no sympathy and threw it in the trailer.  I watched in aw as my dog, my puppy Phoebe became the hero to the animal control officers as she rounded up the goats into one big mob the animal control officers pounced with their nets and eventually caught them all.  All eleven goats were in the back of the trailer munching on hay as the officer slammed the door shut.  He thanked me graciously and gave my dog an enormous belly rub.  Her leg shook.  Soon we all began to laugh.  When all the animal control officers had left I took Phoebe into her Kennel and fed her dinner.

That night I couldn’t stop thinking about the owners of the goats, and asking myself questions like,  I wonder if Kris got her goats back?, Is she mad at us?, Will the goats get back in again?   I dropped the subject and began to close my eyes.  Then all of a sudden I heard a “Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!”

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