GOAT REVENGE by Stormy O’Shea
My country pals won a trip to Hawaii. They begged a friend, Nancy who lived in an ultra modern condo to baby-sit their dog. Nancy though it would be fun to have a tiny companion for a week. What she wasn’t told was that the dog, Kong, was a Mastiff-German Shepherd mix. He weighed 150 lbs. He had never been inside a house before.
When his owners returned to pick Kong up, a very angry Nancy handed them a list of expenses for damages the dog had done. They just shrugged, walked away saying, dogs will be dogs.
Kong had eaten the fish in the aquarium, decided the leather furniture were huge chewy toys. He jumped onto the kitchen counter, beat the toaster up then with one swat of a paw sent Nancy’s elegant china sailing. He discovered that biting into canned goods was a great way to explore new tastes. A jar of cookies were delicious. He found a large bottle of Pepsi, rolled it around vigorously before chomping on it. Books in the library absorbed most of the explosion. Kong opened the fridge, ate a beef roast, some eggs, cheese then polished off a block of butter.
Wow! Feather pillows, with chickens inside. Just like home, grab and shake. That wasn’t half as much fun as yanking lacy drapes down. Feeling a little ill, he upchucked in Nancy’s bed.
He gnawed a remote control, managing to turn on the controls to the television, setting it off on top volume during an opera show. He howled right along. A neighbour came to complain. Kong knocked him flat, then sat on the terrified man.
Nancy was furious at having so many things destroyed. She showed up at my home, late at night with her mini-van stuffed with live goats. “See those goats?” She laughed wickedly. “I’m driving out to Kong’s farm home. I’m going to unload those goats into the prized rose garden, lock the gate and head for home.
She snickered, “Goat’s will be goat’s”
