She didn’t have a chance to see them off
before I brought them over.”
Marla dragged at her grandfather’s hand,
her eyes only on the goats. I expected him to
stop at the fence, sure they’d need the protec-
tive barrier between them and the maniac
Salt. But to my amazement Mr. Peterson
continued up to the gate. Without a pause,
he pulled off the chain, and swung it open,
and the two of them stepped through.
Salt pawed the earth and charged. I saw
him come and squeezed my eyes shut, imag-
ining the crunch of bone and screams of pain.
Nothing happened.I cracked one eye
and saw the most
amazing thing. The
little girl had her hand
out, a piece of carrot
flat on her palm. Salt
towered over her, his
size dwarfing her to
nearly nothing. Sweet as a
lamb, he gently plucked
the treat she offered,
his head lowered as he
stood quiet and calm.
My jaw dropped, and I
stared in utter disbelief.
Mr. Peterson saw my
expression and grinned,
nodding his head toward
the beast’s greasy head.
“Salt’s a bottle baby,” he
said, by way of explana-
tion. “He loves food, so
when he sees it coming, he wants to be first
to get his share.”
I nodded, knowing a bottle baby was one
who lost his mother as a newborn. It meant
some person fed Salt milk from a bottle. I
knew animals treated this way tended to grow
up thinking they’re more human than not.
It also meant I’d sorely misjudged this great
hairy beast. He wasn’t attacking me. He was
just a big bottle baby chasing his chow.
My face grew warm as I watched the little
girl reach out to touch Salt’s stinky, wet nose.
Yes, he might be big and ugly, but looks
don’t make him dangerous.SO THAT MEAN OLD GOAT
IS ACTUALLY A PUSSYCAT!MEW. IT’S EASY TO MISJUDGE SOMEBUGGY
JUSTBECAUSETHEY’RELOUD,RUDE,
AND STINKY.THIS DOESNOT MEAN
WE’RE MAKING FRIENDS
44 WITH UGLY!