I hitched Cuzco to his cart on Saturday and Sunday. Naturally there were people lined up and clamoring to get a ride right up to the time I hitched up, at which point everyone disappeared to either compete in or watch the massive showmanship classes that began in all three rings at once. So I seized the opportunity to take a pleasant drive around the fairgrounds myself.

Later on we gave rides to everyone from tiny babies…

to old grandmas.

We gave rides to kids…

And kids holding kids. (Yes, that is a baby goat in her arms.)

And the real feather in the cap was when the dairy goat judge asked us if we would take a photo of him in the cart. So we brought Cuzco into the ring and snapped a photo. I’m disappointed that there is so much dust in the picture, but it’s still one to remember!

Saturday evening we took Cuzco and Pac-Man for a stroll around the fairgrounds. Cuzco found a party hat and enjoyed posing with it.

We had quite an exciting time at the Weld County Goat Extravaganza this past weekend. Phil and I brought Cuzco the Wonder Goat and his pesky sidekick, Pac-Man. No superhero is complete without a sidekick, of course, but one must wonder if their most amazing power lies in their ability to put up with the little creeps. 

Cuzco was in his element. He seems to love these shows. This is now the second one I’ve brought him to and once again he seemed to revel in the charged atmosphere, the crowds, the bustle, the cameras. I think I realized for the first time at this show that Cuzco is really and truly my goat. Or at least that I’m his person. As long as I was in the building he tracked me everywhere, never taking his eyes off me. If I went out one door and came in another, he’d still be watching the door I left from. He hasn’t baa-aa-ed for years, but this weekend when I would return after leaving him for a while, he would let out a soft, gutteral baa-aa from deep down in his throat. He was never upset when I would leave, but he never let me out of his sight when I was around. Cuzco laid down for a nap while I was getting lunch and I didn’t want to disturb him so I tiptoed past his stall. I think he caught my scent as I passed because his head popped up and he looked eagerly around. By then I was behind his head and he didn’t see me so he laid back down. I must say I was deeply moved by his attachment to me. It’s hard to imagine how such an ornery old goat can have such a deep affection for anyone.

Cuzco was quite congenial all weekend, but I put warning signs on his stall anyway just as a precaution. They said, “Admire me from a distance but PLEASE DON’T TOUCH! I’m old and cranky and well-armed!” Cuzco did his best to lure people over and tempt them to put their hands in his stall anyway.

Cuzco and I helped Phil with his packgoat presentation, and Cuzco wowed everyone with his repertoire of tricks. Most people didn’t realize you can actually train goats to do things like shake hands and spin and bow!

Bow was a new one. I wasn’t sure how easy it would be to teach Cuzco this one since he’s already known “Repent!” for many years. He’s always been required to go down on two knees and got no cookie for doing a half-baked one-knee bow. But this time I wanted him to go down on one knee. It only took him a week to learn it. I still have to put my foot behind his left hoof to remind him not to bend that leg back, but he did it very well to much cheering and applause.

Yesterday, Cuzco and Phil and I went on a mission to clean up our daily walking route. We saddled Cuzco, put a couple of 6-gallon trash cans in the panniers, and lined them with trash bags. I’m still amazed at how much this goat loves to work. Cuzco stood like a statue while I saddled even though Pac-Man was teasing him.

On Clennin Road

We brought along the whole crew because for each guy working there has to be several layabouts leaning on shovels and drinking coffee. You know… “supervising.”

Have a Bud.

The end result: a clean road and a loaded goat.

Two-thirds through our walk Cuzco got pretty cranky at Phil, who was our main trash-picker-upper, and I had to take charge of the goat. I began feeding him a cookie every time Phil put trash in his pack and his attitude improved again. It wasn’t until we got home that we realized why he was ornery. He had at least 45 lbs. worth of trash in those panniers and wasn’t happy that Phil kept adding more! It didn’t seem like that much until we tried to take it out. Poor old goat! He’s quite the trooper, and his heavy load didn’t slow him down one bit or keep him from chasing Pac-Man at every opportunity. He wasn’t even breathing hard!

I’d like to keep doing this through the spring and summer and clean up more roads around here. Cuzco seems to enjoy it so long as we don’t overload him, and I think the work could help him stay in better shape this year. He seems to love having a sense of purpose too, so giving him a job may help keep him feeling “young” in his twilight years.

Well, she lost her breakfast, that is.

Daisy has a goofy habit of waiting to eat her breakfast until all the goats are done with theirs. I think it’s her way of showing how tough she is. I pour food for everyone, but Daisy just slinks around her bowl and won’t eat until the first goat finishes her breakfast and comes over to curiously investigate Daisy’s dish. At that point, Daisy springs over to her bowl with a snarl and a sideways snap at the offending goat, dives her head in and begins to chow down, all the while throwing malevolent glares at the goats and showing them her fangs. It’s like she’s eating her food at the goats, as if to show them… what exactly? None of them even like dog food!

But this morning Daisy’s insistence on eating her food for a caprine audience backfired. It was pretty windy this morning, but the bowl stayed grounded until just about the time the first goat came out from breakfast. Daisy ran over to her bowl and had just begun to sample its contents with a vicious snarl at Nubbin, who was casually passing by, when a blast of wind came up and blew the bowl over, scattering its contents all over the driveway. Daisy had to carefully pick the pieces out from the gravel one by one. The goats filed past without regard–Daisy was  too busy  finding and consuming her breakfast before it blew away or got trampled to scold anyone for looking at her meal. I guess she also knew that no one would be jealous of food that had to be picked up out of the dirt!

This story was originally published on 1/25/2011 on the old Pack Goat Forums, which is now defunct. I dug it out of the archives and moved it here so it does not become lost in the mists of time… enjoy!

It’s been about a year since The Hat incident, and Cuzco has long accepted that buffalo horns are a natural and acceptable occurrence in human seasonal cycles. But it wasn’t until now that we finally got a photo of this phase. Here is me in my jogging suit, which on cold afternoons includes the buffalo hat:

This story was originally published on 1/12/2010 on the old Pack Goat Forums, which is now defunct. I dug it out of the archives and moved it here so it does not become lost in the mists of time… enjoy!

Emotions ran high in the Hassey Household this evening. It was a fine day today, so I put Cuzco on his tether in the vacant field next to our house so he could browse. I went late for my afternoon run, so it was getting dark when I got home and moved Cuzco into the yard. I was unhooking his chain when my goat fairly attacked me! I could hardly move him to the gate because he was on his hind legs, whirling, posturing, and waving his horn threateningly at me any time I came near him. I managed to grab him by the ear as he charged past me, and I wrestled him into the yard before he tore loose, backed up and came at me again.

And then it happened… my goat butted me! It wasn’t very hard–it didn’t hurt. But he actually backed up and charged, smacking me in the side of the leg. That’s when I decided I’d truly had it with that beast! I grabbed Cuzco by the horn and shoved his face into the dirt. Then I grabbed the scruff on his back and dug my nails in and twisted until he was forced to his knees. From there I wrestled him to the ground and sat on him. From the awkward position on his back, he lunged at me with his teeth and tried to swat me with his front hooves. We sat there for a long time before I was confident I’d won the battle. I slowly got up and Cuzco rolled over onto his side where he lay like a dead goat until I was well and truly away from him. Once he was on his feet, he looked me over briefly as though he was sizing me up, then he wisely turned and hid in his shed.

I stood there, contemplating the event and wondering what on earth could have made Cuzco so hostile. I’ll admit that once in a while he does give me a bit of guff as though testing the waters, but never has he outright attacked me, and never has it been so hard to put him in his place. As I stood there thinking, the light from the back porch fell across my shoulders, casting my shadow on the side of Cuzco’s shed. And suddenly I saw what I’d forgotten and Cuzco had observed–I was wearing the Horned Hat!