Yesterday I took a walk. Actually, I walk nearly every day.
After waking at 5:30am and doing my carrot juice thing, I gather up the dogs or they gather me up and we head out for the cinder path at the Mount. I wish I could take the goats with me—I think they would be wonderful walkers, they certainly have the legs for it. I’m just hesitant because I believe they would want to stop at every green thing along the way and try to eat it—there is a lot of green there. Corn, trees, scrub, bushes, much honeysuckle and other growing things that would be great delicacy to a goat, so, for now, they will have to stay home.
As soon as we get out of the car, the dogs bolt off in one of many directions—often both heading in different directions. Sometimes I don’t see them until I’m halfway finished and on my way back, but we usually always meet up sooner or later. I love them. They have taught me many important things. They have taught me much about loyalty and the importance of silence. They have taught me patience. Animals can teach us so many things—if only we will slow down and watch them long enough. My goats are funny. I love them too. They are still young so they don’t know much about patience—they cannot eat or walk or run or explore fast enough—they are definitely not patient. They don’t know much about silence either—very noisy creatures—always making comments about every little thing that happens—too much like me I fear. They are wonderfully curious and I hope time never takes that away from them. They are very affectionate as well. Nuzzling, sniffing and snuffing me when I sit with them, they don’t seem to tire of checking me out—do I smell different each and every day? I don’t think so, I think they are just reaffirming that it really is me, no matter what I may happen to be wearing.