Animal Activities #37

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Miko was not an ordinary goat. Miko tended to walk to the very end of the wooden fence and look at the horizon, as his rest of his herd were content in his pasture, with grass on the hill side farm. Something beyond pasture and barns in the look of his eyes which had an agitated gleam.

One morning as the farmer was repairing a leaky trough Miko was looking at a loose plank. He glided over without second thinking and entered a world of the scent of wet earth, wildflowers and liberty. His feet were clicking along the unclean road and so he started his journey.

The first was discovered by him in the orchard, above the hills. there hung tempting round, red apples in the trees. When fruit dropped down Miko sprang and shook, and laughed in his goatish way. He was fed right through to the belly, and then no more, like there was in the farm.

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Day after day became night and Miko encountered things that he never saw. One of the hedgehogs told him that a defense was not always defensive in the form of horns; that some of them made their defense on their backs. Two of herons waited patiently as they stood with hers in the still waters awaiting fish. Miko was also taught by the mischievous fox who was trying to outwit him to get a snack but taught him how to think on his feet and where to make a better instinct.

But not all lessons were kind. Miko went too far one evening in the woods and was attacked by a pack of wild dogs. During the first time, he was not sure about himself. His horns that he used as a means of pushing and poking were now made into survival weapons. He struggled, fought, and ran at aching legs. A broken man learnt that liberty was not always sweet that it needed bravery.

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Weeks of roaming vagrantly Miko returned to the farm. The goat herd bled with his coming, and the farmer shook his head, and told to him that this goat was a trouble maker. But Miko was a tall man and his coat was traveling and his eyes were full of untold tales. He had been in the garden and tried the sweetness, the patience of the river, and the dangers of the forest and had preserved all this in himself.

He was no longer an ordinary man despite being back within the fences of the farm he was staying at. He was the unheard of teller of the herd, and a sort of memorial living, to the fact that even a lowly goat may have horizons and that he may restore wisdom to the tongue of experience.

and whenever he stood on the side of the fence and looked off to the horizon it was not with the longing he looked back towards the path of his journey but with gratitude.

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