We don’t know what we don’t know

Sometimes the urge to drive forward brings us face to face with unforeseen circumstances. Often these arise from the complete lack of familiarity which mostly leads to mis-steps, causing temporary upheaval and ultimately culminating in some form of realization. How we deal with the overall situation is entirely up to us. External conditions may appear to influence decisions, but ultimately every decision is taken by the self. Or is it Self? With the story below, I try to explore this idea.

Lily and Silly in Kiwiland

Christine and Gwen tend to our landscaping needs. Both the girls, in their late twenties are industrious and hardworking. And frankly speaking we are happy with their work.

But this is not about their expertise or skillfulness on the job.

Both of them have a thing for goats. And we accidentally found it for entirely different reasons.

My wife is bit of a foodie. During our stay away from Bay Area we had been missing her supply for Indian groceries and food items. This included among other things goat meat. Search for her choice of meat was not turning up anything tangible in Humboldt County, California, where goats are reared mostly for cheese and other dairy product. And our need was for domestic use not for some industrial kitchen.

In wake of this effort, one day we broached the topic of goat farms to Christine and Gwen. Both of them seemed clueless. I thought matters ended there. 

But soon Gwen blurted out, “We do see some goats near one of properties in remotest neck of the woods in Blue Lake. I think the owner is old and cannot take care of the goats.”

Christine responded, “Yes the goats appear famished. We tried calling the animal rescue folks had received several complaints about her in past. At one time the city got involved, but considering her situation took a compassionate view.”

“You mean they took a compassion for the goats”, I queried.

“Oh no! They sided with the lady. Her house was crumbling and she barely got around. The goats were all she had.”

My wife chimed in, “Can we check if she’ll sell her goats.”

I immediately protested, “No! We are not doing anything off that sort.”

Gwen suggested, “We could rescue the goats ourselves. Poor souls, they have tied themselves around trees and can’t venture much even within the property.”

After few hours they had left for the day. And were slated to return in the following weeks. During which time I had entirely forgotten about this matter.

But few days later, Wes, our Handyman-cum-small-time-repair contractor, and Gwen’s boyfriend, who was working on our fence had some interesting tale to tell. 

The day the girls left us, they hatched a plan to save the goats. Wes was supposed be the lookout guy waiting in his truck, Christine and Gwen planned to load the two goats in their truck and scamper. We would follow them closely, and prevent anyone from getting their license plates. Christine had even create a bed of grass in her backyard for the goats and stocked on fresh grass and munchies.

As they lay in wait, they saw few cars drive by, and few pedestrians on the road. 

In the meantime, Wes googled with his nervous nimble fingers ‘fine for stealing goats’ on his smartphone. He frantically scooped up whatever he could find on cattle theft penalties and fines. He figured their penalties for every goat could range from $300-400 (price of a goat) to three years in county prison and additional fine. Inability to pay fines could potential increase the period of incarceration by another year. 

He called off the supposed rescuesque-heist. The girls were furious with him. They called him a “Wuss”.

During their next visit, I teased them about the botchy grand animal theft.

“Don’t even mention it. Wes just chickened out. We feel so sorry for the goats.”

I let matters rest there.

Months went by. Later one day I learnt Christine had adopted two goats. A friend of a friend had arranged for a favorable bargain. She was happy with her new family, may be a little concerned about her “skinny babies”. She christened them Lily and Silly, influenced by one’s bright coat colors and the other’s dull-witted act of chewing on rags. 

Her tender care and occasional treats from friends would turn things around. And soon she started contemplating if the four-legged friends need some exercise. Unknown to her, the pair was stretching themselves beyond the fence to nibble at the neighbors blackberry bushes or Hawthorne berry tree. 

A little over 4 months after Lily and Silly landed in their new home, they seemed to bursting off the seams, almost eating themselves to exhaustion. Christine was contemplating a visit to the Vet. 

Few days later, while Gwen and Christine were busy on a job, her tenant called her frantically. Upon returning from his daily jaunts he found one of the goats in labor in front of his porch. He left several texts and voice messages, but with no response forthcoming, was left to deliver the baby by himself.

An hour later, on her break Christine realized what had happened. Both the girls rushed to her home.

What transpired thereafter, was nothing short of intrigue and amusement.

Christine lifted the kid rolled in soft towel gentle into her hands and remarked,“Oh my God! Lily you are mother now!”

“When did she get pregnant? And who is the father?”

“Silly?” 

“May be, I don’t know. I have never seen to be even remotely promiscuous”

“Wait! Aren’t they both a pair of does?”

“Let’s check”

“Yes. Jeez! What am I doing? Of course they are does. Look at the udders”

“So same-sex breeding? Naah, that is not possible in mammals”

“And look at Silly, she seems pregnant too. No wonder they ate like pigs”

“This must have happened at the farm, they had couple of billies there.”

“Well, we need to name the little one, don’t we”

“Yes, let us call him Billy”

Soon it was Silly’s turn. She yawned in labor pain and contractions ensued.

Over the course of next 6 hours the family saw the addition of Dilly, Dean and Jeane. Christine’s family ratio now matched that of New Zealand.

What started as a hobby of adopting two goats had ballooned into rearing a herd of goats and, family and friends as care givers were not cutting it any more. She needed a bigger set-up and some professional help with respect to regular check-up and care while tending to her landscaping gig. Briefly the idea of parting with the kids did prop up, but she banished them altogether as the thought holding the new-born kids came to her mind. She was looking forward to raising her family now. 

Depending on the perspectives we choose, the way we categorize the event above may seem to differ. 

To an observer it may appear predictable, with cascading effect downstream stemming entirely from human error. To a subject, events started as something totally unpredictable, which ends up impacting their lives in a big way and later appears to predictable when retracing the dots. 

If the observer and the subject were to merge, the distinctions fade away. All that happens enriches the soul from one journey to another. Water tight boundaries knowledge give way to acceptance of what is unknown, which ultimately result in shedding the cloak on individuality. A common thread of existence starts to emerge where one is found in many and many found in one.