2018-08-31 / Travel

Ode to my Father

Part 12: My Billy Goat
By Warner M. Montgomery, Ph.D.


My father had an hour of riding in his new goat wagon. My father had an hour of riding in his new goat wagon. (Note: This series is from my father’s memoirs I found long after his death.) After the near accident with the car in Greeleyville, my father downgraded his ambition and decided he wanted a billy goat which led to this funny but sad story he told me when I asked him for a pony.

“Our washer woman’s son had a goat. I envied him driving his goat around town pulling a wagon. When I asked for a goat, Papa said, ‘No!,’ but that didn’t satisfy my longing for a goat. After months of my whining and begging, Papa finally agreed to get a goat.

“Mr. Cox, the Greeleyville grocer, had goats running wild in the woods. He told Papa we could have a billy goat if we caught it. Two or three times we tried to catch a goat and failed. We never could get anywhere near a goat, much less catch one. So, I got the washer woman’s son to agree to sell me his goat and wagon. Papa suggested we test out the goat wagon for a few days before we made a deal. This was agreed upon, and I drove the goat wagon home with Papa following closely behind in his mail delivery truck.

“After an hour or so of pleasure riding, I unharnessed the goat, fed him, and put him in the barn for the night. Early the next morning, I was up bright and early to enjoy driving around Greeleyville in my wonderful goat wagon.

“However... While attempting to hitch the billy goat up to the wagon, I turned my back on the goat. That was a mistake! The goat took two steps back and charged. Bam! ! ! He butted me right in the seat knocking me out of the barn.

“That cured me of any desire for a billy goat. Papa returned the goat that afternoon.”

Next: My first cigarette

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