Every morning, before I even make it to the kitchen, I glance out the window and get an instant dose of joy. There they are—zooming back and forth, ears flapping, legs flying, occasionally misjudging a landing and crashing like a gymnast who launched with confidence but landed on their face instead. It makes me laugh every single time. They don’t know why they’re running. They’re just thrilled to be alive and determined to spread that energy around like glitter at a toddler birthday party.
There’s probably some deep life lesson in that somewhere—about joy, resilience, and seizing the moment—but I’m usually too busy laughing at a 10-pound goat trying to body-slam a water bucket to be philosophical about it.
And yes, the chaos does come with its share of extras:
Hay in my bra.
Hoof prints on my jacket.
A barn that now sounds like a kazoo concert in a bounce house.
If you're ever feeling grumpy, burned out, or just a little blah, I highly recommend a few minutes of goat therapy. No fancy appointments. No soothing music. Just stand near a goat pen and let the nonsense commence. It’s better than yoga. And unlike people, baby goats won’t try to sell you essential oils or argue about politics.
We’re only halfway through kidding season, and I suspect the June arrivals will bring even more wild-eyed bouncing joy. Until then, I’ll be out in the barn, laughing at the little ones as they practice their high-speed nonsense, blissfully unaware that the world is anything but a playground.
This is proof that joy comes in small, fuzzy, bouncing packages.
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