Animal impasse
Cousins Carter and Hyrum play with a baby goat at a friend’s farm this summer.
Logan and I are at an impasse, of the animal variety. You might call it an animal crossing. Basically, I think it sounds like great fun to have all sorts of farm animals, like goats, alpacas, and miniature cows. But I don’t want them for regular “farm” purposes; I just want them as pets.
Left-brained Logan, on the other hand, only wants animals if they serve a purpose. Our cats are admissible because they keep the area around the house free of mice. The cows are allowed because they eventually provide months and months of beef for our family and others.
Maggie, our chihuahua-beagle-who-knows-what mix, is barely tolerated by Logan, because what purpose does she serve besides shedding hair on everything and bringing joy to the entire family? Bah humbug!
In my dreams, all our farm pets would live in a little pasture in our front field, sheltered by a darling little barn that matches our house. They would graze and frolic the day away while I watch them lovingly from the kitchen window whilst baking homemade apple pies for my adoring children.
This is pure fantasy, obviously. But still: I think animals can serve a purpose without having to be turned into food or used to make money.
When we first purchased this property, a friend approached us to see if we would allow him to hunt deer in the back acres of our land. While this is permitted by law and I’m not opposed to hunting per se, I was not a fan of the idea.
“Why do we need to kill everything that crosses our property?” I said to Logan. “Can’t an animal wander through without the fear of being shot?” The deer hunt didn’t happen.
Now listen: I am not an out-and-out animal lover. There are plenty of animals and animal situations that I really don’t enjoy. But in a lot of cases, I think that animals can provide something that nothing else can.
The stress relief of watching baby goats frolic on a play set, or the dopamine release given by nuzzling a miniature cow – those are things that money can’t buy. Or I’m guessing they are, since I’ve never actually owned any of those animals – but I’ve seen them, and holy moly, they’re cute!
Early in the summer, Logan and I were picking our boys up from a friend’s house. She owns miniature goats, and while we were gathering the kids, we watched the goats chase each other across the pasture and hop off and on their play structure. In that moment, I was a goner.
“Let’s bring some home right now!” I giddily said to Logan, who was watching the same adorable display as I was, but with much less amusement.
“Bring them home where? To the back field where they’ll get instantly eaten by coyotes?” he asked.
“No, you could build them some kind of barn this weekend, and then we’ll get a couple alpacas to guard them,” I said. “I hear they’re very protective.”
“We can barely get our lawn mowed in a weekend; you think I’m going to be able to build an entire barn?” Logan’s unflinching regard for reality always ruins my fun.
I guess I can see where he’s coming from. He is convinced that I will lose interest in these farm pets after he has spent entire weekends and paychecks building a fence and a barn and purchasing hay and helping me attach cute little cowbells to decorative collars. My response to that is: Maybe I will, but maybe not!
All I know is, right now, what I want more than anything in this world is to watch a herd of baby goats chase each other around a mini playground, while my mini cow eats his mini hay and moos his mini moo out into a nearby pasture, where he can communicate with the two mini cows our neighbors purchased this summer, which are the size of Golden Retrievers and follow each other around like mini best friends while they nuzzle the neighbor kids when they come home from school.
You can tell me all you want about coyotes and fences and barns and “reality,” Logan Ditto, but this thing is happening whether you want it to or not. Now, hand me a cowbell.