5.2.2010 We don’t have electric fences where I come from

I joined a new club today.  The “I know
what a hot electric fence feels like” club.  We went over to a fellow’s house to
pick up some saanen dairy goats and a handful (50ish) of chickens.  While the
guys were busy chasing the hens around, I wandered over to visit with the new
girls.  I was carrying my baby, Pace.  He is a chunky 7 month old.  Well, I
leaned in to visit with a goat, and I swear, a cantalope landed on my head.  I
jumped back and looked up.  Immediatly, I turned around to yell at Trey for
throwing a cantalope or a coconut or whatever that was on my head.  I bit
my tongue it hurt so bad, and I could have dropped the baby.  But he wasn’t
paying any attention to me.  He was focusing solely on the chicken he was
chasing around.  I know Trey well enough to know that he isn’t going to waste
his energy on a trick like that and not take the time to enjoy watching the
outcome.  I looked around.  I wasn’t standing under a palm tree or anything.
Then I looked back at the goat.  THEN, I noticed the thin wire hanging between
myself and the barbed wire.  At the end of this thin wire, were some yellow
thingies.  AHA!  An electric fence.  I’d been zapped.  No wonder my arm hurt.
I kept my mouth shut and told the goat not to tell.  It’s our secret . .
.