The night  of my daughter’s  going away  party, I had a vivid dream. My mother drifted through the scape in an attire you never hear about anymore. It was called a house coat and it was elegant. Floor length hemline, long sleeves, a zippered opening down the front so it was easy to get in and out of. Quite handy if you were naked when a neighbor came over to borrow a cup of sugar.

The next morning when I woke, two words- house goat, house goat, house goat- kept popping up in my mind and, like a silly kid’s song, I couldn’t shake them. Ooopsie doopsie, my rational mind went, I’m losing it. House goat, house goat, my mind chattered back…

I went about my chores, got  boots on the right feet, food in the right pot  and rested for a moment with coffee and TGI. I rarely read the classified, but on this morning the page fell open and there, on the first page, was an ad with a picture of four darling little kids, four-legged kind, and a phone number.

House goats, of course!

On impulse -who me?- I ran for the phone, spoke with a sweet-voiced lady, got the address, checked my stash and found two freshly printed Benjamins, the ink was still wet, called my grand-daughter and in a manner of minutes, no make-up, work clothes and boots, set out in a

dilapidated van for the farm. Got lost twice but finally found it. Through the gates we dashed, almost running down a gathering of folks dressed

pretty much like me and a paddock full of bouncers.

Louisa, their darling two-legged mother, selected a neutered billy, a white nanny, showed me how to feed them, fed me a cookie, took my money

and sent me home. I named the little white, who has the pinkest bottom I’ve ever seen, Kim, and the black and white billy, Bill.

Stopped en route to buy a huge bucket of powdered goats’ milk- I’d adopted an unweaned pail-a stainless steel bowl, a whisk to beat the hell out of it , and drove home fresh out of Benjamins, wet or dry, to settle the kids in. They were three weeks old, about twenty pounds with an over-supply of eight-legged energy. Out the windows went their bright eyes watching the road roll by, their bleating young and gay.

I know that one of the most dangerous things to do with any animal is to introduce it into a new environment and these kids had to meet a huge black Rotshep, a big red horse, a macaw, lots of chickens and three cats, but I have a theory that everyone learns to get along, be family, when they smell alike. I busied myself petting the kids, patting the horse, grooming the dog and pulling the parrot’s tail. Before long we all smelled alike. Horse, goat, dog, cat, parrot and human Eau De Perfume. I should bottle it….

to be continued


16 Responses

  1. can’t wait to read part two…enjoy your kids. Kimo


  2. Aloha Bettejo ~
    Cute story … I loved the part about the “freshly printed Benjamins, the ink was still wet …” Look forward to reading more – and, hearing more in person over lunch.



    • Me, too. I live in Kalaheo. Haven’t check my mail in a hundred years but we’ll find each other. Love’ya Bettejo


  3. The related posts are excellent. Check’em out. Tell them I sent you.


  4. Bettejo –

    I love the wide range of diverse topics you cover!
    This one is warm and engaging and personal, the one before more thought provoking and probing (well, they both have elements of each, but as a matter of emphasis).

    You are really quite talented, but more than that, genuine!


    • Actually, to be diverse is kind of a handicap. Readers seem to want to categorize. I am a humorist. I play it by ear. Maybe with all you wonderful guys on line, taking really good shots at the religious loons-that STUDIER-I can begin to enjoy myself. Love you Me


      • Bettejo –

        The ability to write in diverse styles is not a handicap, it is a talent. However, those not able to appreciate it may definitely be handicapped.


      • Well it’s not so much not being appreciated, controversy sells, but finding a way of getting readership. There are political columnist. Humorist, few today. Some darling kid stuff and books stuff, but I don’t fit anywhere. I write whatever happens to strikes me on that day. You could do me a favor. I’ve been forbidden by the editors of TGI to mention my column in my posts, that’s why I play the visit me game and it works for those who already know how to find me, but remember, some folks with very busy index fingers pushed the abuse button whenever any of my posts showed up, putting the Editors/monitors in a difficult position. I’d like to speak to letter writers who come in from ‘out of town’. If, once in awhile you see a letter to TGI from an out of towner to whom I’ve responded-or not- you could say something like..bettejo has a fun column, just google bettejo. Your own words, of course.


      • You can also find good stuff-pictures, too-by googling Bettejo Dux. Goes way back. I just love to write. I’m Irish, full of words. Read letters to the discussion group, responses. The whole thing has an almost historical quality to it. Perhaps it could be published some day. The whole thing, as is. I have other works. Humor. The Scam. Fantasy, three mss ready to go. Tons of stuff. I just need an introduction to an agent. Be nice to see them published before I croak. tee hee Love you ME


      • Since this column started, I’ve written 29,000 words. 56 post X 500 words. That’s a good size novel. Holy moly…
        You know I’ve often thought how much more fun it would be to e an artist, my youngest son the architect is. At least I could frams something and hang it on the wall. What do you do with manuscripts?


      • Please check this out and send it to the discussion group. Very important. Fellowship foundation connection on kauai phone 742-9396 Address 2731 Ala Kinoki, Koloa. They can’t deny this truth. I’ll explain later, but if you read the letter today, start at the bottom, you’ll see how important this is. Love’ya ME


    • RGGR’S 1:00 Am post disappeared. So interesting. Fortunately I printed it. It is terroristic threatening. I’m handling. Hang in there. I have a lot of work to do. I thought I’d feel the ground shake, instead I called down a malignant Solar Flare. Behind the scenes are fascinating. Sorry I can’t share. Take care. Love you, ME


  5. This latest entry incorporates humor, warmth and engenders a feeling that the reader knows you as a personal friend, even if said reader has not had the good fortune of meeting you personally.

    I enjoy your work.



    • …to continue my note to EMERALD. Anytime you can find a way in posts to the discussion line to tell people how to find me…come for a visit, hope you remember my address… which I can’t post. Local guys know me but I can get more readership which may help further down the line. I’m so happy we found each other. EMERALD makes ‘them’ look like fools on economic subjects. You, who are too good to be true-gives them a polite knock when it comes to religion. KAUAI PHIL and SCOTT and others are chiming in. Love all of you. I was really feeling out there all alone. Love you ME


    • For the next ten days, I guess, I will have to speak to you here. Interesting things going on I can’t talk about. Peace and love Bettejo


  6. I remember this day so well! I Love you Grandma


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: