Twas three days before goat show, and all through the green
Not a goat could be sighted, anywhere near clean.
Half the goats had turned into stacks of dead hay.
Some limped with toe rot, but they still ran away.
Half of the goats' butts had sprouted the black runs
I tell you, prepping for a goat show's no fun...
And my husband in jeans and I in my gloves
Girding for the battle for a hobby I "love"
When out on the front yard there came a loud yell
Followed by a short muttered "damn" "shit" and "hell."
I stepped up to the window to see what the F-
There was Rex-goat with his head firmly stuck.
Getting him free cost us only smashed fingers
Good thing for him that his cuteness still lingers.
His sweet brother Pan had observed the whole thing
chewing cud like a cow but head up like a king
until Ari-goat side-swiped him right off his feet
and kept running - the freak - like he had Fate to meet.
The girls clearly thought I had nothing to do,
so played in the mud until they had changed hue.
It's against the rules to make any hair change;
in our show the goats must come straight off the range.
So no baths, no combs, no shears allowed here.
I wondered what craziness next would appear.