Get a Goat!

There is an old parable in Eastern Europe, about a man who goes to the Wise Man to complain that his life is overwhelming. "I work full time at a stressful job, then I come home and I have to deal with my bossy mother-in-law, my stressed-out wife, 3 crazy kids running around screaming, the dog barking. I don't have a moment's peace. What can I do?" The Wise Man replies, "Adopt a goat." This is very strange advice, but after all, he is "the Wise Man," so the man buys a pet goat at the market and brings it home. A week later he is back at the Wise Man's Door. "What were you thinking? My life is worse than ever. My wife is yelling at me for buying that goat, the dog keeps chasing it around the house and knocking everything over, the goat chews up everything in my home, it has torn up my garden, eaten my favorite clothes, ripped up the sofa, the kids keep crying when the goat knocks them over. Ever since I followed your advice and got a goat, my life is chaos!" So the Wise Man replies, "Get rid of the goat." The man sells the goat at the market to another buyer and goes home. A week later, the Wise Man runs into him and asks, "How are you doing?" "Oh, I'm doing great! My family is so happy every since we got rid of that goat. Now when I come home, my wife is happy to see me because she doesn't have to chase after that goat anymore, the mother in law is just her usual self now that she's not complaining about the goat anymore, the kids are running around yelling and playing, the dog is just his usual mellow self. I come home to a happy household and it feels so peaceful without that goat. Thanks for your great advice."

"Get a goat" is shorthand for that moment when you feel that life is overwhelming, and then you add something even more crazy for a short time, and by comparison, your usual overwhelming life seems manageable.

In keeping with that, in November I got a 'goat.'

This goat came in the form of year old female rescued 68-lb mini Presa Canario dog.
I went to donate some of Akasha's old stuff to a wonderful rescue called Mariah's Promise. While there, our of sheer morbid curiosity I went to look in the cage of a Presa Canario.

At that moment, the only thing I knew about Presa Canarios was that a couple of them were responsible for killing a woman in San Francisco. I had always said I would never go near one of those dogs.

Then Bella came out of her cage, and our eyes met.


Less than a week later, she was living in my house and sleeping in my bed.

Love makes you do crazy things, like foster a year old dog with boundless energy who was not toilet trained, not accustomed to living inside a normal house, who acted like a wild hyena.

But she was sooooooo cute and loveable and funny. She was trying so hard to be my best friend, to show me that she was the best dog ever and to learn all about this new world she was in. And I was trying to both socialize her to the new world of being a pet dog, and train her in the basics of pooping outside, walking on a leash, etc.

But she was definitely a GOAT.

Despite my efforts to toilet train her, she managed to poop on my carpet at least once a day.
She somehow got ahold of my prized Ugg boots and chewed holes in the soles.
She peed in her crate, filling the air in my bedroom with the stench of urine.
She attacked my big dog Luca, chewing up his face so that he still has scars, and resulting in the only true dogfight I have ever seen.
She harrassed little Ozzie off all his hiding places, even squeezing herself behind the sofa and onto the windowsills.
She grabbed the tablecloth and pulled it with her mouth, with a full place setting and burning candles on the table.
She chewed all the screws out of my desk so that it now is just held together with glue and faith.
She ripped my CD's out of the entertainment center and crunched them up in her big jaws.
She rubbed against the walls to scratch her back like an elephant and broke electrical socket covers off.

Each moment of the day was chasing after her and trying to divert her to non-destructive games and toys. I could never quite anticipate what she would come up with next.

As a Christmas Miracle, Bella found her new home on Christmas day. The best doggy home possible, with kids to play with and a mom who is a professional dog trainer and knew exactly how to handle her. She is doing great and in fact she is a model citizen. I think that she is going to be a showcase for what a good dog trainer can do. Actually, I love and miss that wild child Bella, but I know that she has a much better life now, and that is what a good foster mom is supposed to do for their foster dog: get her ready for a lifetime of love with a new family.

Now, even months later, I have a whole new attitude about my formerly unmanageable life. I wake up and make my morning coffee and take my pills with a sense of gratitute that I don't smell any Bella accidents. What was formerly depressing silence I now see as peaceful quiet. My own two dogs (I used to think I couldnt deal with them, having Fibromyalgia and being so tired) are remarkably undemanding compared to the Energizer Bella. I'm still amazed at how much I appreciate my life now, after dealing with her for a month.

"Goat Therapy" is certainly a radical solution, like electroshock. I can't say I recommend it. But, I am determined now to see if I can use the crises that come up in life as a way to "get a goat" and then really enjoy the relative bliss and order that comes when you experience simply a little less chaos.