Wednesday, June 9, 2010
i had a goat when i was little. it like to dance on the top of my mother's car. when i was 9 -- i thought the goat and my two cat's ran away. i found out years later.... my mother had seven dusted them by "accident." fifteen minutes before the school bus dropped me off... my mother discovered the goat dead in the middle of the road. my brother had to use the fork lift to dump old goatie in the canal, that ran through our backyard. she said the goat must have just died because rigor mortise hadn't set in...and it kept falling in between the forks. my brother kept having to scoop it up every five feet or so. he dropped it in the river just in time.
when she told me the story it made me laugh...in that fucked up gaspy kind of---what else was i going to do...
needless to say... i don't believe animals run away anymore. i am a firm believer that my mother kills them.