AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Hi!” I called out to get her attention.
Her yard was double the size of mine, extending well beyond her house. The rest of her yard was contained by chain-link fencing, much harder to break through than wood.
The older woman whose gray hair was pinned in a twist on top of her head looked over at me. “Hello, there.”
She dumped the seed or oats, or whatever the hell goats ate, into the trough, and all dozen came hopping and jumping and head-butting their way over. One actually got knocked by another and went totally stiff, then fell over.
“Oh!” I pointed frantically. “One of them got knocked down.”
She looked over her shoulder, continuing toward me, and laughed. “Nah. That’s Zuzu. She gets excited about feeding time and has a little fit.”
“She passes out? Over food?”
Couldn’t blame her, really.
The white-and-brown-patched Zuzu sprang up, shook her head, then trotted to the trough with the others.
“They’re myotonic pygmy goats.”
I must’ve still looked confused.
“Fainting goats,” she explained. “Though they don’t really faint. They just go all stiff-legged and roll over sometimes.”
I laughed, watching the black one that had snuck into my house. Even my usual grumpy self got a little giddy at how cute they were.
“My name’s Gretchen,” she said, removing her garden glove and reaching up a hand.
“Betty Mouton,” I said, shaking hers.
“Hope you don’t mind the noise. Most of the time they’re not too loud, but every once in a while they can get going and make some racket.”
“To be honest, I didn’t hear them at all. Of course, I haven’t spent much time on the back porch yet.” I pointed a thumb over my shoulder. “Still unpacking.”
“Can’t say I was sorry to see Vincent go.”
“Mr. Randazzo?” That was the man who sold me the house. He’d moved to New Jersey to be closer to his son and family.
“Yeah.” Gretchen chuckled. “He hated my goats. Complained alot. Called the police for disturbing the peace a number of times.”
I smiled. I could totally see it. Mr. Randazzo had seemed very no-nonsense the two times I’d met him.
“Well, I’m not calling the police, but you do have one who is breaking the law.”
“Do I?” She raised her brows, blue-gray eyes sparkling.
“Breaking and entering. But I promise not to press charges.”
“Dang it.” She looked back to the trough. “That’ll be Gilbert, most probably.”
“Is the black one with the white socks Gilbert?”
“That’s him.”
“Then yeah. He came right into my kitchen. My back door was propped open.”
She laughed and shook her head. “Every time I repair one fence panel, he breaks another one to get out. Mr. Randazzo used to have pots of herbs on his back patio. Gilbert was partial to the mint leaves.”
I laughed. “Bet Mr. Randazzo wasn’t a fan of Gilbert.”
