TNT Betsy: Puyallup Poster Child

Today is the last day of the Western Washington State Fair, aka The Puyallup. We were just there last week but so much has happened since we got back that it seems like years ago. Unfortunately, much of what has happened is either bad or very bad, but usually that means that something good is just around the corner.

Anyway that is what we are hoping.

But back to the Puyallup: even though little orphan Betsy did not even go to the Puyallup this year, she has been on the front page of the Tacoma News Tribune every day of the fair. They used the photo they took of her last year to make an icon for their fair blog.

The farmer showed her the picture but she had no comment.

TreeGoat

Betty, picking apples.

Boxcar Betty

When Betty was born, she was the last of triplets. Her two brothers, Peanut and Zilla, had a bad time getting into the world. One was too little, and got stuck coming breech; the other was too big, with a leg back and a giant noggin. After those two troublemakers, Betty just tumbled out, like a little pair of dice, and the farmer thought "Boxcars!" at the sight of all those dalmatian spots.

So her name is Boxcar Betty.

Here she is, standing out in the crowd with her crapshooting colors and her Carolina Blue eyes.

Back from the Fair

Well, the farmer just got back from the fair, and I could have told you what would happen.

Only three goats went, because the farmer didn't feel that good and some of the goats also looked like they might be getting sniffles.

So the three contenders were Xtra Joy, Lucy Goosy (aka Dory), and my granddaughter Boxcar Betty. The farmer thought Xtra Joy would do well, because she is supposedly so pretty and everything despite not having any ears. If you like a goat with no ears, I guess she looks okay.

And the farmer thought Lucy might do well, because Lucy is Penrose's daughter and she has a lot of dairy character, whatever that is supposed to mean, despite being kind of a brown nose. She is one of those goats always hanging around the farmer practically saying "Pet me, Pet me," which I find undignified.

When I go around the farmer, I like to convey that I wouldn't mind having a little grain since I am getting so emaciated, and after that it would be all right if the farmer wanted to scratch my chest, and please don't forget the animal crackers next time you go to the store.

I think this establishes a more collegial atmosphere.

Anyway, the farmer did not think Boxcar Betty would do that well, because there were going to be a lot of Nigerians at the Fair. And Betty of course was very cute and adorable but maybe not that much of a show goat.

And of course Betty was a big hit at the Fair, with all kinds of people trying to buy her and asking questions about her and wanting to know what kind of goat she was and when she was born and so on.

And the show started and Lucy went first, and despite not feeling that well and having a bad haircut and refusing to walk in a straight line, she came in second place and got a ribbon, which was good even though it was a small class.

And then Joy went. And oh my goodness, the farmer's eyes boggled when all the goats went into the show ring. It looked like a national show or something, as the judge even remarked, with so many beautiful Lamanchas there. And anyway, Joy did not do very well, partly because the farmer did not do a good job of showing her and partly because there were so many exquisite doelings there. Joy was ninth, which doesn't sound that good, until you look at the girls in tenth, eleventh, twelfth place and down the line and see how pretty they are.

Then the Nigerian show started, and when the farmer brought Betty out, the farmer's eyes boggled again. Betty's Nigerian class was just as big as Joy's class, and with just as many beautiful animals. This was the class for the youngest Nigerian kids, and there was kind of a rodeo going on outside the ring waiting to go in, and lots of bawling and crow-hopping, with many of the Nigerian kids screaming, "this is not in my contract, and I would like to see an attorney before proceeding further, and by the way, I hate you."

Betty did not do this. Betty stood calmly and quietly, not causing any trouble. The ring steward motioned her to go into the ring first, and when she walked in she had the air of the world's tiniest princess. And the judge very quickly put her at the head of the class in front of all the others.

So Betty, my granddaughter little Boxcar Betty, was the only one to win a blue ribbon.

Duh.

All Quiet

Well it has been pretty dull here the last few days since Clipper and the two most beautiful mini-Manchas (Buttons and Cappy) in the world went to their new home together.

Breezy has taken over bossing everyone in the fat girl pasture, but I have to say everyone down there looks kind of dazed. Clipper's style of drill sergeant management kept them on their toes, and now they are pretty much flat-footed. Breezy just doesn't crack the whip with the same lion-tamer gusto. I hate to admit it, but I think everyone misses Little Colonel Clipper.

Now the last dregs of summer are trickling away, but they say we will have beautiful weather this week, so I for one am going to get out and do some power-lounging in the sun.

The News From Home

Well my grandson Peanut went to his new home and I am not surprised to learn that he has already taken up pen and ink to begin his literary career. You can read Peanut's first musings here. He is living with a goat philosopher named Marigold and a sleuthing fainting goat named Watson, so hopefully he won't get too smart for his own good. There is a full-blown Nubian there, though, so that should bring the I.Q. level back down toward the mean.

Meanwhile, Peanut's mother Hannah Belle (aka Lecter) has returned to her willful ways and is now spending part of every day inside the horse trailer. According to the farmer, she is "thinking about what she did" in there, but as far as I can tell she is catching up on her naps and enjoying some very pleasant alone time.

Because thinking is not something she does in order to make herself a better goat. Thinking is something she does in order to figure out new ways to get into the grain room. So far she has thought up about seven hundred ways to do that. Her little anarchist daughter Boxcar Betty has taken to following her around on some of her excursions, too.

Wendell the boston terrier pest had been lying around in a sleep coma recovering from the departure of his friend Max until today. Today he unfortunately started feeling better and chased Boxcar Betty all around the pasture until he got a good yelling-at from the farmer.

On another matter, Winnie came back into the big milker pasture acting all high and mighty. That lasted about 15 seconds until she got taken down several pegs by an unlikely gang-up consortium of Boo the Ocean Liner Nubian, Scouty the Winnebago Nubian, and little modest yearling milker Ronny, who is actually Winnie's sister. Together they showed Winnie who was not boss.

Then the three of them shook hands, gave each other courtesy head bumps, and went back about their business - hogging as much food as possible.