"You sure it ain't the solenoid?" said Bert. "I don't think they
make them anymore," said Doc.
"It's usually the solenoid," Bert said, with finality.
Out of self-defense, Steve emerged from his cavern of wires and
metal long enough to say, "Didn't I see you have a goat now, Bert?"
Bert nodded. "That's why I hate allergies."
We waited. We stared.
"Well, you see, Maizie's allergic to cow's milk, so we bought
Ernestine for her."
"And Ernestine is...?"
"The goat... right. So what happens is somehow I have to milk
Ernestine. Twice a day. We wanted to go overnight to the city last
week. Ever try to find someone who will baby-sit and milk a goat?"
"I won't do it," said Dud.
"Neither will anyone else," said Bert, sadly. "So we either stay
home or take the goat with us. Ever try to find a motel that takes
goats?"
"Not recently," Doc said.
"So we stayed home. Oh, it wouldn't be so bad if she liked me..."
[to top of second
column]
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"Maizie?"
"Ernestine. See, she waits until I have her almost milked out,
then she'll stick her foot in the bucket and kick it all over me.
The other day, I was standing in her pen and talking with Mrs.
Gonzales next door, and Ernestine came running up behind me and ran
right between my legs."
"Did you fall?"
"Of course. And Mrs. Gonzales tried not to laugh, but it didn't
work."
"Bert," said Doc, "why don't you just buy goat's milk at the
store?"
"Maizie says she needs it fresh, because it's better. You guys
even notice how a goat has horns and cloven hoofs?"
We nodded.
"I don't think I need to add anything to that," said Bert.
[Text from file received from Slim Randles]
Brought to you by "Ol' Slim's Views from the Porch," available
at www.unmpress.com.
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