When we go in at night Tangy is not supposed to come in our stall. Our stall is for Nigerian goats only and we will not even let half-Nigerians in. This means you, Walker the Talker. Even Jammies is hardly ever allowed in, only when we are not paying attention, and she is 7/8 Nigerian. In our stall we have me, my mother, Blue Umbrella, Boxcar Betty, the little black one that nobody knows her name, Hannah Belle if we cannot keep her out, and of course Miss Priss aka Moldy aka Melody.
We always have Moldy go in the opposite corner from us since she is from Oregon and doesn't really understand correct society. We do not want to listen to her opinions all the livelong day. Or her complaints about the way we do things.
We generally don't bother giving her thrashings any more since we are all very tender-hearted.
Anyway somehow Tangy came stampeding into our stall and started eating all of our food when she was supposed to go in with the big goats. As soon as she saw she was in with us she turned on her terror jets and started head-butting everyone. We are too smart for her and we just scooched into the corner out of range but then Moldy over in the other corner started in talking about how down in Oregon big goats don't come into her stall and eat her dinner, that is just not the way things are done in Oregon, bla bla bla, and if she had known what an uncivilized area this was going to be, etc etc etc.
And even I said to myself, "uh oh," becuse Tangy turned around and looked at Moldy and started backing up which was in preparation for a full-service t-boning, and I could see everyone else was thinking "uh-oh."
And then everyone rushed in a big ball between Tangy and Moldy and we took the wind out of the t-boning so that Moldy only got jostled instead of pulverized and then I guess the farmer must have finished the tea and crumpets because finally the farmer showed up and grabbed Tangy and put her in her stall where she belonged.
We all looked at each other and then we went back to eating our rightful dinner which was half-gobbled by Hurricane Tangy. Moldy came too and ate with us instead of standing in her outcast corner and for once in her life she was quiet.
Everyone moved over a tiny fraction of an inch to make room for Moldy because what can we do. It looks like we are stuck with her.
