Find below a fun little writing project request from a fan wherein I detail the life of the Fugs, (as he is known to his adoring public), from his own perspective. Updates whenever Fugly does something newsworthy or I get yelled at on email for more.

The Daily Life of Fugly, the Fantastically Ugly Goat

                                     – A Blog of the Goat Experience-

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Fugly prays for more grain to magically appear in the empty hand

POST 8/16/16 — What Am I?

Fugly the goat was confused. He did not know what he wanted to be. He had wanted to be a Human, and had even noticed that he was referred to as a kid, which was encouraging. But humans walk around on two legs, and he wobbled around on four, which could not be put down simply to the randomness of heredity. He was also somewhat suspicious that the person who gave him the milk bottle might not be his real mom unless he got a serious case of hair loss between now and adulthood. He needed to figure things out, so he followed the humans out to the farm.

There were other things like him outside at the farm, which the Humans referred alternatively to as ‘goats’, ‘weed eaters’, ‘barbeque’, or most often as a string of keyboard symbols enunciated at high volume. These seemed like a pretty promising group to model his life after, especially since they were much smarter than the humans that they ran circles around. They walked on all fours like him too. On his first day entering the realm of the horned ones known as goats he was introduced to the traditional goat greeting. Whenever two goats meet, they stand back, size each other up and then proceed to beat the heck out of one another until one or the other of them begs for mercy. Fugly, being a somewhat height challenged, mostly blind goat, was not well equipped for this form of etiquette.

Within five minutes, he decided he did not want to be a Goat and quit the goat herd to join the less violent four legged critters grazing peacefully in a nearby paddock. Which was great, until he got up close to the horses and found out that they were a lot bigger than they had looked far away. They were thousand pound behemoths that were easily frightened when small, short, and mostly blind things bump into their legs. When the thunder of terrified hooves in full retreat died away, Fugly decided he did not want to be a Horse. They were too big and too scary.

Then Fugly wandered over to the backyard because he smelled a strange smell. He was just going to investigate it when a giant, hairy thing leapt at him, whacking its face most ungracefully into the fence boards and showering Fugly in drool. It snapped and barked through the fence. The humans called it a Dog. Fugly was not impressed. It did not appear very intelligent because it snarled and snapped against the fence boards rather than trying to climb over or under the fence. Also, it listened to the humans all the time which was frankly silly. Fugly decided it must be lacking in free will and intelligence. He did not want to be a Dog.

He tried out being a Tractor, but decided that while lying in the sun and mowing weeds all day was fun, the humans kept pouring foul smelling stuff down the tractor’s throat, and that looked even worse than having to eat dewormer paste. The Work Truck too was inspected, but Fugly noticed that this creature was wildly popular with the Goats, who liked to climb on top of it and beat each other up. He decided he didn’t want to be a work truck because then he’d have to be around the Goats.

At the end of the day Fugly went back to the humans. He waited patiently until someone lifted him up into the truck cab, then sat down his usual spot. He road home, watching the traffic outside the window. It was better, after all, to be a Human.

He was extremely unhappy, several days later, when the humans accidentally left him at the farm with those terrible Goats and did not come back to pick him up no matter how much he yelled for them. He crawled under the fence and went over and ate grass with the horses instead, like a proper peace loving creature, glaring nearsightedly at the jealous Goats.

POST 7/28/16  — Fugly Communes with the Goats

The humans thought they were funny. Fugly did not think they were funny. They had decided, against Fugly’s personal wishes, that he was a Goat. Fugly was absolutely certain he was not, but the humans had tied the gate more tightly shut than usual so he could not escape. He squared himself up and peered through his good eye at the denizens of the goat paddock.

They were an ugly and uncultured lot. There was extremely hairy big black and white one, with the curved horns. He could climb trees. Fugly was impressed, and went over to try and climb the tree with him. Unlike the horses, when Fugly walked beneath the black and white goat, the goat did not run, but instead turned around and head butted him like an uncouth savage for no apparent reason. Fugly swore him off, and went to see if any of the other goats would be his friend. The brown and black goat smelled like Fugly’s bottle, but when he went to investigate she too headbutted him very rudely. The remaining two goats were twins only a little bigger than Fugly. They had seemed promising at first, until he realized that if there were two of them that was twice as many head butts. They were like Cinderella’s ugly stepsisters, always cheating Fugly out of his grain and making him wait at the end of the line for the water trough. He thought, long and hard, about how he would deal with these miscreants.

The grain bucket toting human arrived later that day. The goat savages all lined up yelling at the edge of the fence, jostling eachother and screaming for attention. Fugly quietly walked up to the fence a little way aways. He had been practicing. He opened his good eye all the way, raised his head, and released the most beseeching “nyyahhhha!” he could muster. He raised his floppy ears, wiggled them ever so slightly, and turned his good eye pleadingly on the human and its grain bucket.

Fugly watched from outside the fence as he gorged on grain while the horned heathens inside glared at him and yelled at the injustice. The human petted him, ignoring the horned ruffians.

Fugly, his head buried in the grain bucket, smirked. Brains over brawn every time.

POST 8/19/16 Fugly Goes to the Veterinary School

Fugly glared across the aisle at the Dogs. Overall they looked nervous, which was odd because Fugly always enjoyed his trips to the vet. They were alternating between whining nervously and fawning all over their humans begging to go meet Fugly. It was hard, it really was, to be so popular. He stood proudly with his leash and collar next to his own owner and snubbed them. He had more important people to meet.

The more important people were in the back, and they smelled of herbivores instead of dog drool. They had on those long white coats or those funny tasting scrub tops. Fugly wandered around sampling the cotton and polyester pant legs and coat ends for a bit while they talked at Fugly’s human. Occasionally one of them would lean down and pet Fugly, as is right and proper when you’re a celebrity. After a bunch of talking they sat Fugly up on a table and poked him. Fugly liked being the center of attention, but being poked got kind boring and annoying after a while. So when they sat Fugly back on the floor, he wandered off to do his rounds.

As befits a well-known personality Fugly was gratified to find his particular stall was already set up for him. The veterinary technician shut the door behind him. He grabbed a few bites of hay, keeping a watch on his jailer with his one good eye. When she seemed satisfied that he wasn’t up to anything and left, he walked over and helped himself to the gate latch. A local celebrity has to be seen out and about!

He stopped off at the equine center to grab a few bites of alfalfa and toured the isles of interesting horses with their funny smelling feed and tottering piles of supplements leaning outside their stall doors. He dropped by to give a nod to the veterinary technicians on break who were hiding out next to the coffee maker. A real star doesn’t walk everywhere, so Fugly sidled over to one unoccupied tech and wiggled his ears.

Reclining regally in the arms of scrubs clad chauffer, Fugly continued his tour. He took photos with his adoring fans, and helped them post his picture to Instagram, Facebook, and the internet in general. He posed for a short discussion to a group of veterinary students on orthopedics in goats, holding out his knobby legs for inspection. Even a great day out has to come to an end sometime though.

Fugly walked through the empty corridors of the vet hospital. Everyone had gone home! The animals were all tucked in for the night and the shift was over. He walked back to his stall. It had a nice bag of hay and a towel in the corner. But it was so lonely and empty. He couldn’t sleep there!

He could hear his human calling for him. He opened one sleep eye and uncurled, shaking off the computer cables. He nyaahed back, crawling out from behind the computer tower and through the modem cables. His human came through the door of the office as the vet students working late on their computers stood up and looked around trying to figure out where the nyaah had come from. Fugly wiggled through their legs towards his human. The students had been good company, but now it was time to go home!

Riding in his humans arms, he nyaahed goodbye to the vet hospital, looking forward to his next trip.