Not the G.O.A.T.

    Charlie saw his potential attacker approaching sideways and from behind the rear with his excellent peripheral vision. He was ready to let loose and nail Vincent with his powerful hind legs, if the situation called for it. Charlie narrowly avoided an unprovoked assault from this new, horned interloper yesterday. He had lunged to the side at the last minute and the goat sailed right past him. It could have  been a painful head-butt collision. Those sharp horns could have ended up in a very sensitive area. Charlie shouted out a warning in case of a repeat charge and said,"If you pull that stunt again, it'll be your last ."

     Vincent said, "I really want to apologize. It's not in my nature to be such a Billy-or bully. I was given some bad advice from my ex-barn mates who told me it was so important to establish dominance at a new home. If they had gotten a glimpse of what a formidable opponent you are, they would not have attempted a fight themselves. You have nothing to fear from me-I would like a fresh start."

      The next morning, Charlie watched Vincent approach with a wary eye. At first glance, the goat was innocent and angelic-looking with his pure white hair. However, his face had a devilish look with his wide-set yellow eyes and sharp, threatening horns. Charlie was disappointed with this new replacement for his recently deceased pasture-mate Molly. He waited until Vincent was a few feet away and said, "There's enough grass, grain and hay for the both of us. We each have our own stalls in the barn. I was gelded when I was a yearling and would guess that we wouldn't share the same taste in potential partners even without that mutilating surgery. Peace and tranquility are what I desire. My name from the formal racing days was 'Sir Charlie Horse', but you can call me Charlie. If you decide to persist with the nonsense of yesterday, I'll spare our owners the trouble by killing you myself but they can skin and cut you up themselves."

       Vincent assessed the beauty and magnificence of the jet- black horse with his intelligent eyes, white forehead star and graying muzzle. He again apologized for his impulsive act of yesterday and said,"I regret that I acted on such bad counsel. My full name is Vincent van Goat, but you may call me Vincent. My previous owners were art lovers and thought I resembled a famous painter. They said we were both a little eccentric. "

       Vincent moved closer to Charlie and dropped his piercing tone down to a whisper. He said, "I heard that he even cut his own ear off. That's pretty crazy. Even I wouldn't attempt anything like that."  He threw back his head and let out a series of loud bleats.

      Charlie not only began to question the thought process of Vincent but also the questionable decision of bringing him here as a replacement for Molly. Vincent's previous owner was probably relieved to be rid of him. However, Charlie said nothing but only had a skeptical look on his face.

      Vincent was a little slow on the uptake and only began to digest what Charlie said. He had a worried look on his face when he asked, " Do you think I'm intended to be eaten? I've heard terrible rumors about humans eating goat meat. "

        Charlie said," When I was at Saratoga, a couple of the stable hands ate goat kebobs. I'm not sure how the goat was killed but it probably was slow and painful - after they first fattened him up with great things to eat. I think they used the leg meat for the recipe and cut it into bite-size pieces. They marinated it with tangy, tart and citrus-like spices mixed with yogurt and refrigerated the mixture for 24 hours. They had to drain the goat well because wet meat doesn't grill nicely. They stabbed the pieces with sharp skewers and grilled it at 400' for about 12 minutes. I have to admit, the smell was heavenly and it made my mouth water. It was like they were teasing me because the grill was in plain sight of my stall. They served it with a cucumber yogurt sauce and pita bread. They devoured the goat like wild hyenas and made loud cries of delight as they smacked their lips and chewed it all up."

     Vincent blanched to an even paler shade of white and almost bit his lip as he chewed his cud nervously. He asked in a voice that was more shaky and far less cocky, "Are you sure?"

       Charlie said, "I saw and smelled the whole thing myself and heard them discuss the recipe.They even talked about trying goat curry another time. Would you like to know how that is fixed ?"

    Vincent's wide-set eyes were watering and was only able to shake his head "no" in shock. 

     Actually, Charlie thought Vincent was in no danger. He had come to the conclusion that the best way to keep this unpredictable and impulsive barn partner in line was a healthy dose of fear and uncertainty. Goats had been used as companion animals at Saratoga and most had been fine. However, a few were frankly downright nuts.

     Charlie had been rescued from being auctioned off for slaughter once his racing days were over. He had earned north of a  million dollars over his five year career. He even had placed second as a two year old in the Hopeful Stakes at Saratoga-an indicator of the following year's Triple Crown. However, he was plagued by injuries and never raced to his full potential. A bowed tendon retired him permanently and he was unable to be a stud horse. He and Molly were rescued by John and Mary-who wanted their young twin daughters to be raised around horses.

       Charlie asked Vincent, "How is it that you still have your horns? I thought most goats have their horns removed when they're young. "

       Vincent puffed himself up with pride and said," My owners tried but I showed them who's boss. They waited too long and had to call the vet. I pretended to be friendly, then charged and knocked him on his rear. He was in so much pain, he was unable to continue. He wasn't able to take the horns or perform the surgery that would have taken the fire from my belly. Maybe you should have fought a little harder. Your retirement could have been spent on a fancy stud farm with a string of fillies instead of this boring dump. "

      Charlie retorted, "If you had been less combative, everyone wouldn't have been so eager to be rid of you. Right now, you could be spending endless hours playing with your pasture friends, eating tin cans, or whatever it is that goats do. Instead, you're at this boring dump-wondering if you’ll be our owner's future entree "

       Vincent looked down-hearted and said, "Maybe you're right. It was a pretty good gig at my old place and there was plenty of attention from the other goats and humans. My favorite thing was when I jumped up on the goat stand and the owners brushed and combed me out. It was like having a spa day. I've been here a few days and John and Mary have only come by in the morning for chores and the twins have just given me a brief pat."

        Charlie said, " Not much happens here now. Molly and I used to spend tons of time with the family. The girls brought us all kinds of treats and spent hours brushing us out and braiding our manes. They showed us off to their friends and we went on long walks. They'll be graduating next year and their free time is taken up with friends and activities."

        Vincent nodded his head in sympathy. This was the most the stand-offish horse had spoken to him. 

       Charlie continued, "You should have seen all the attention I got in my racing days. Every movement was monitored almost 24 hours a day and I was treated like a king. The excitement of the thousands of people who watched me run was contagious. There was nothing like it. My owners raked in lots of money until my injury, and then dropped me like a hot potato . Thanks to John and Mary, I didn't end up as dog food . I would have liked to do some work around the farm to be useful, though. I've always admired the work ethic of our ancestors- used for carrying humans long distances, serving in battle, and pulling heavy loads or carriages. "

      They were grazing in the far corner of the five acre field that Vincent hadn't explored yet. He jerked his head up and sniffed the air. He made his way over to the  split-rail fence and peered through the opening." What's that beautiful smell?," he asked Charlie. 

       Charlie walked over and checked out the skinny green plants with the fan-like leaves and skunky aroma. "They're pot plants, The stable hands used to smoke them all the time. "

       Vincent asked," Wow - did you ever eat any?"

          Charlie said," I got what you'd call a contact high from the guys smoking. It made me relaxed and ravenous at the same time. I even ate my bedding. "

        Vincent said with enthusiasm, "Let's climb over and try some!"

       Reluctant Charlie said, "I think we'd better leave it alone. It might make us sick if we eat any."

      Vincent was as stubborn as a dog with a bone with his obsession with the plants. He harassed Charlie over the next few hours. "Please, Charlie, Please. What about it, huh ,huh ,huh? "

       Charlie said, "The twins told me a story about a girl named Rapunzel. When her mother was pregnant with her, she made her husband steal greens from the witch's garden. He got caught and had to give the witch Rapunzel as payment. You remind me of the pregnant woman. "

      At last, Charlie couldn't take any more. He threw his full weight against the rails until the top two fell to the ground. He said, " You coming?"  Vincent sprinted over and tore into the weed. Charlie joined him.

      Vincent and Charlie were in ruptures over the greens. They exclaimed, "It's so smooth! What a piquant aftertaste!  The more I eat, the more I want! " Over the next half hour, they devoured every last plant they could find. They collapsed to the ground, side by side, senseless for the next hour. 

        They both recovered at the same time and staggered to their feet. Their eyes blinked over and over as they took in their new surroundings. The fence, barn and house were gone, replaced with old growth oak and hemlock trees. They found themselves in a wild forest instead of their familiar farm. "Baaa," was all Vincent could manage. 

      Vincent and Charlie wound their way through the dense forest, not sure where they'd landed. After a mile, Charlie let out a neigh of excitement. They had stumbled upon a stream, with a smaller but familiar oak tree nearby. Charlie exclaimed, "Vincent, we're not in a strange land. This is the nature preserve not far from the farm. The family took me for walks here. We must have gone back in time rather than traveled somewhere else. "

      Vincent said," I'm sticking close to you. You have a lot of horse sense. "

         Charlie thought hard and said, "We'll head this way. There's a two-hundred year old farmhouse in this direction. We might find some people or animals there. " 

       The trees thinned out and a dirt road emerged as they got closer to their destination. The air was crisp and clear, free of the pollution over generation. It was almost like eating a satisfying meal as the clean oxygen entered their lungs. A short yet stocky man dressed in old fashioned clothes and straw hat was surveying his newly-cleared fields. "What have we here?", he asked as he spotted Charlie and Vincent. He reached into his pocket and pulled out an apple he had been saving for his lunch. He bit it in half and offered the pieces to the hungry animals. 

       The pair was relieved to see someone and were still relaxed from their weed. They also had the munchies, so their healthy distrust of strangers was eroded. Charlie put his stamp of approval on the man when the farmer declared, "I could sure use some help around here. "

      He locked Vincent in a small shed and threw him a bale of hay. "Relax for a while," he said. He harnessed Charlie and hitched him up a makeshift sled. Charlie was secretly pleased to be of some use again and have the opportunity to be a harness horse. His enthusiasm disappeared and was replaced with mind-numbing pain over the next hour. The farmer led Charlie while his adult sons piled rocks from the field onto the sled and then unloaded them. They would be used to make a stone fence. Charlie was nearly ready to drop when they went back to the house for lunch. He thought to himself, "Another day of this and I'll be dead."

         The farmer's sons went in to eat while he retrieved Vincent from the shed. He had thought about what to do with the goat while he cleared the rocks. He didn't want his daughters to get attached and hated the thought of turning Vincent over to someone claiming him. "Goat stew" was the answer that popped into his head and his mouth watered. He said in his most soothing voice, "We'll get you fixed up 

nice," as he led Vincent to the goat stand. 

    Vincent went willingly as he thought he was getting a spa day. "I could get used to this, " he said. He hopped up on the table as he had done at his old farm and started to place his muzzle on the chin-rest to be strapped in. At the last second, he spotted the nearby ax and leapt sideways off the table. The farmer howled with surprise yet made a quick lunge for the weapon. Vincent was faster and made his signature move of his razor-sharp horns to the farmer's ample target- just as he was grabbing the ax handle. With satisfaction, Vincent heard the yelp of pain as the farmer was face-planted to the ground and made a dull thud. He didn't stick around. 

     Vincent sprinted to the front of the house and saw Charlie-still hooked up to the sled- tied to a hitching post. Vincent was shocked to see how tired Charlie looked and whose head hung nearly to the ground. He said, " C'mon ! We've got to get out of here!" He unfastened Charlie's reins from the post with his teeth. 

       Charlie said, " You have to go without me. I don't have the strength to run. You've turned out to be a good friend. "

     Vincent saw the recovered angry farmer coming towards them yet said, "I won't leave you-I'll fight him to the death!"

     Just then, everything went hazy and then sped forward in fast motion. The landscape changed at breakneck speed and gradually slowed down to a stop. The farmhouse was still there-on the main road-with the development of suburban townhouses behind. The dirt road was paved and cars whizzed by. The twins ' friend, Becky, came out of the farmhouse with a stack of flyers in her hand. She gave a cry of delight when she spotted Charlie and Vincent. Charlie was happy to see her-she was a frequent visitor to the farm a few years back. She whipped the cell from her pocket and made a fuss over the pair as she made the call. Vincent and Charlie saw the flyers had their pictures with the words "missing ","heartbroken family ", and the contact information. Charlie and Vincent were never happier when they saw the truck and horse van pull in the driveway with John, Mary, and the twins. It had been an exciting day indeed. 

                 EPILOGUE 

        One Month Later 

      Charlie was checked out by the vet and had no lasting damage from the rock hauling, but needed to recover in the barn for a week.Vincent never left his side. It became a great mystery where they went and who hooked up Charlie with the antique equipment. The girls renewed their relationship with Charlie and forged a new bond with Vincent. He was delighted when they brushed him out and talked about getting a female companion for him. The twins made them special treats made with apples, molasses and oats -way better than the weed. They did all kinds of outlandish tricks to earn more treats. The twins took videos of their antics and posted them. They were popular and got tens of thousands of hits and likes. Charlie overruled Vincent when he wanted to make a return trip to the weed patch.