A stressful move away from the only state I’d ever called home. A long trip that included winter storms, hotel-room goats, and frantic searches for the nearest available Starbucks (I’m really not used to them being so few and far-between). A new state that is sometimes different enough to feel like a foreign country. What I need is time to acclimate, a handful of Valium, and to get my stuff unpacked and put away. What I don’t need is another goat.
So…maybe it wasn’t a good idea to visit the Boer goat farm (Boers are meat goats) and play with the bottle-fed kid that was going to market in a few weeks. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to go back to the farm a few days later with a dog crate in my car and cash in my pocket. Then again, maybe it was a great idea. It’s kismet.
Or, rather, she’s Kismet. Soft and fluffy in her baby fur, she’s adorable and sweet. She needs time to adjust to her new home, just like I do. Instead of her huge herd, she has two big sisters who want to chase her. Every aspect of her life has changed (for the better, I hope!) from what she eats to where she sleeps and how she spends her days.
When I think of all the different threads of my life that were tugged and snipped and knotted in order to get me here, to this place I now call home, my mind reels. Fate? Random chance? Who knows. We can imagine what might be ahead of us on this journey through life, but we can never be sure until we take those steps forward. I rounded a corner and found Kismet. How lucky am I?