Maia continues to insinuate herself into life at the house. If she’s not pushing her way in the back door, she’s hanging around the porch, sleeping with the dogs, taking walks with me to the mailbox, trying to join in farm workshops, greeting visitors, attempting to jump in my car whenever I go anywhere, or nibbling on my flowers. I have to admit, I haven’t discouraged this activity as much as I should. She’s still small and can let herself in and out of the barn yard at will as babies are wont to do. This is never a problem as babies always head back to their mamas. Only Maia thinks I’m her mama. I’ve continued to let her have a bottle of water every evening. She’s well hydrated.
She mostly hangs around the house and yard, never goes into the road or causes any real trouble, lulling me into a false sense of her charm.
Who doesn’t want a pet goat? I enjoy sitting in my rocking chair on the porch, doling out cookies to her and scratching her behind the ears. I’ll teach her to be a real goat eventually. There’s plenty of time. She’s but a child….
That’s right. She’s sitting in my chair! MY CHAIR!!! Is it not enough that I have to deal with this:
Now I have to deal with THIS:
IT’S MY CHAIR! There are two rockers on the back porch. I gave up one to the cats already. Now Maia’s got the other. It’s wrong! It’s a bridge too far! It’s a travesty! It’s–
–cute, isn’t it?
I wonder if she likes whole cranberries or jellied? Because I’m pretty sure by Thanksgiving, she’ll be in a chair at the dining room table.