First, allow me to instruct you in how the barn ought to be on a normal morning.
My chickens sleep in a stall in the barn at night. They are also fed there, and spend bad weather days there.
My goats normally sleep in the stall next door to the chickens, but lately I've been keeping the goats loose in the barn (doors shut so they won't wander off, of course!) so they have more space. (Just as an experiment, mind,)
That way on the nasty days when they can't go outside in the pasture, they won' t be so cramped. (And by the way, there are a lot of nasty days this time of the year)
That way on the nasty days when they can't go outside in the pasture, they won' t be so cramped. (And by the way, there are a lot of nasty days this time of the year)
Here's a photo of me from last Spring, standing in front of the goat's pasture, and holding one of the kids. Her name was Freema, and she was such a sweetie! |
Anyway, for a week or so every night my goats have been trying to open the gate and break into the chickens' stall so they can fill their already rotund bellies with chicken feed.
That's when disaster struck.
That's when disaster struck.
Today I opened up the barn doors, only to blink in astonishment. I found ruffled chickens scattered, and two distressed goats looking up at me. Two. There were supposed to be seven.
What happened?
Possibilities swirled in my brain, but before they had a chance to materialize I looked over into the corner (the exact location of the chickens' stall) and saw five pairs of wide eyes staring back at me.
The missing goats.
The missing goats.
I was mad. I glared at the goats. They continued to stare helplessly at me.
Guilty by all accounts.
Guilty by all accounts.
Judging by the evidence, (i.e., aside from the aforementioned facts, the broken and empty chicken feeder, the turned over nesting box, and the stall gate closed,) being a regular Sherlock Holmes, I reasonably deducted that the culprits had combined their efforts in the massive break in, and they would have gotten away with it too, if the gate hadn't got stuck, trapping them like rats.
"Served them right," I growled, and now they wanted me to let them out?
Suddenly the absurdity of the situation, and guilty, anxious faces of all the wicked goats hit home, and I laughed, releasing all of the pent up anger and frustration that had gathered inside me.
"Oh, well. What's done is done." I moved to release the prisoners, but froze, hand stretched toward the gate.
I smiled (an evil smile;) and filled up their grain trough instead, while they watched the two (as chance would have it) innocent goats eat the grain. When I thought they had suffered enough, (roughly two minutes of agony;) I set the prisoners free so they could finish the grain with the others. They didn't deserve any, (they were fortunate not to be sick) but they were goats, after all...
...and goats will be goats, and goats will eat...and eat...and eat...
Smiling, I walked back to the house just as the sun showed his cheery face at last from behind stormy clouds.
Sometimes, when you're mad, you just need to laugh.
~Mallory
P.S. I guess the goats will have to go back in their stall where they belong. (They'll just have to get used to being a little cramped;)
~Mallory
P.S. I guess the goats will have to go back in their stall where they belong. (They'll just have to get used to being a little cramped;)
What about you?
Do you ever get mad at things you can't control?
How do you deal with frustration?