Goat Training

In the first grade I met Carl Gene Hembree,
The beginning of a long friendship between I and he.

One day he rode over on his horse Tony,
a big, pretty, roan pony.

I asked, "you want to go to the creek and fish?"
He said, "naw we aint got no boat."

He looked at my goat herd and said, "lets work a goat."

We walked to the pasture and caught my biggest nanny.

Dragged her up to the side of the house,
away from my mama and granny.

We gathered up pieces of leather and a couple of plow lines.

Hooked her to my red wagon with the leather
and some morning glory vines.

We had no goat bridle, so we tied a line on each horn.
I sat down in the wagon and he poked her with a thorn.

That goat took off, she ran through a flock of pullets.
I pulled on the lines, and they passed my ears like bullets.

She jumped a ditch with the bottom full of pea gravel.
Me and the wagon tried goat powered space travel.

I came out of the ditch, bruised banged and bleeding
and sat down in an old chair.

When he stopped laughing, I said that's the start and finish
of my goat training career.

Dale Hensley
March, 2004