The Pet Goat

So here we are, ten years later. I suppose I'm supposed to say something poignant about the ten year anniversary of one of the most tragic events in our country's history. I'm honestly not sure what to say: like many, many other Americans, we've been watching videos and reading more stories - essentially reliving the day through many different eyes, some with good outcomes, but most of them heartbreaking.

For some odd reason, with Madison in kindergarten next year, Daddy's focus has been on the moment the President heard, "we are under attack." Most of you know he was in a classroom, reading to children slightly older than Madison right now. They were reading the story of "The Pet Goat."

Some make a big deal out of the seven minutes he spent listening to the children, attempting to project calm, while inside he knew a tragic event beyond imagination was unfolding. As if there was no other human being, let alone the entire government, already racing to action to find answers and present options.

President George W. Bush was in office when Madison was born, and also when she came to our country for the first time. I hope someday she knows that's something to be proud of, although someday, this may be merely be the answer to a trivia question about her life. *

I've often wondered about the story of "The Pet Goat," and how it reads. I understand it's the story of a redeemed pet that the owners complain about - until it turns and saves the day. It's such an obscure piece of literature brought to the forefront of history...

THE PET GOAT

Once upon a time there was a family divided about what kind of pet to get. Half wanted a goat, and the other half wanted something else entirely different. The half that wanted the goat got their way, and as you can imagine, the other half wanted the goat gone and were looking for reasons to complain about the goat from day one.

One day, trouble came: bad men came to the house. They were very bad men.

Fortunately, the family had a goat. This was pretty much established with paragraph one. Anyway, this goat did something the other pet probably wouldn't do: it used its head. It butted the bad guys all over the place. But it wasn't content with butting these bad guys once they left the house. This goat followed them all over the world, butting them time and time again, and letting them and others know this simple fact: come to the house once more, and you will be hurt. Bad.

For seven years, the bad guys never returned. Yet this was not the focus of half of the family. Nor was there focus on the fact that things could be a whole lot worse, and that the family was in fact doing rather well - all things considered. Instead, they just wanted to get rid of that goat. They were worried what about the neighbors would think, all this butting. They worried about all sorts of things.

So the goat left. And the family decided to get a new pet. We won't go into details about the type of pet this one was. **

The point is that things didn't get any better when they got a new pet. The bad guys were still scared. Yet everything else was exactly the same as it was before, if not a little worse.

You see, I suppose the point is that some folks will always blame the pet goat, instead of blaming themselves. They'll blame the goat instead of realizing how good they have it. It's just easier to blame the goat.

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* Daddy was born when Richard Nixon was president. Mommy was born when Dwight Eisenhower was president. I like Ike.

** That's described in the sequel, "The Pet Reptile"