Like falling off a bike....

It's true.  Once your mind and body adapts to the process of motor memory, it's there forever. 

On Sunday, Zach and I had fun exploring the Great Outdoors.  The sun was shining, the air much warmer than the 20 and low 30s we've been having. After throwing leaves and sticks in the pond to see which could make the loudest "plunk," and examining moss and different types of tree bark (and which bark is more easily removed from the tree), we went inside for some hot cocoa to warm our hands and tummies.   He put a Garfield movie in the DVD player and we sat down to watch.  Before the promos for the new, upcoming movies were over, we heard a rustling of leaves outside.  What the..????  We put on our shoes and opened the door to investigate.

Five of my neighbor's goats were calmly munching the grass in my yard but that didn't explain the thrashing sound coming from behind my RV.   Not knowing if they were friendly, I slowly turned toward the sound and found one of the goats had her head stuck in the fence and was trying her hardest to get free.

I sent Zach inside to get my phone and I called my neighbor.  Not getting a live person, I left a voice message.  Well, crap.  I didn't know when he would get the message and how soon he would arrive, I just couldn't let the poor stupid goat choke herself.  Although the four-legged creatures outside didn't seem alarmed by our presence I was still wary of the males' horns. 

Telling Zach to stay back and trying to keep one eye on him and the loose goats, I slowly walked over to the entrapped one.  I held out my hand and talked softly (thinking "Where's a goat-whisperer when you need one?") and hoped she wouldn't get more frightened and get more tangled.  I touched her and she just stood there looking at me like "Sheesh, just get me out of here and like, NOW!"  Whew, they were used to people.  So I pushed on her head and pulled on the fencing.  However, being a goat, she butted towards me.  Hard.  I lost my balance and slipped on the mud.  I heard a giggle behind me.  Not funny.  I looked at Zach's laughing eyes and his hand covering his mouth.  Ok, it was funny (or his giggle was infectious).  I started laughing along with him, tried standing up and slipped again.  Zach stopped trying to hide his giggle and LOL.  When I finally stopped laughing and could get back to task-at-hand, I could just see it in the goat's eyes, "people are the strangest creatures."  I finally got her head pushed out and untangled her feet and she joined the rest of the herd in my front yard.

My neighbor showed up as I was trying to brush the mud off my jeans.  After telling him which goat had been trapped and showing him the fence.  He grabbed a sturdy looking fallen branch and proceeded to herd the goats away from us and toward their pen across the driveway.  I watched him get them almost to the gate and then one or two would take off in a different direction, then he would take off after the strays.  After a few times of this, I began to feel sorry for him and told Zach, "Let's go help."

My early childhood was spent largely on farms and ranches and have done a fair amount of herding animals (wether just tormenting the poor things or actually moving them from pen to pen).  If there is an animal more stupid than sheep, it's goats.  Plus goats have a one-track mind, aren't "followers," and are more stubborn.

With the three of us working (and Zach getting his first lesson in goat-herding), they were soon back home.  My neighbor looked at me and said, "You did that like you knew what you were doing."  I automatically said, "thanks" but was a little surprised.  Until I remembered.  I probably did know what I was doing.  Although my mind had forgotten how to herd recalcitrant farm animals, my motor memory hadn't.  I just hope the fun we had stays a good mind memory for Zach.