You Cant Make this stuff up

The Goat, the Corvette, and the Dumpster Surprise

Sister Sally’s pride and joy was Cotton Tail, a white rabbit with deep red eyes.

One Christmas, Brother Bill got a bow and an arrow. He was eager to try it out. He launched an arrow into the sky. It arched over the trees and came down directly into Cotton Tail.

As you can imagine, this puts a serious damper on the holiday spirit. Sally was devastated for months.

Mom wanted to ease the pain.
During a country drive, she found a creative solution: a roadside sign that read “Baby Goats for Sale.”

Easter was just around the corner. Sally’s basket that year included a real, live baby goat. It was nestled in green plastic grass.

She named him Sticks.

We did not know at the time that Sticks would grow into an 85-pound, four-foot-tall wrecking ball. He ate Mom’s petunias. He also had a nasty habit of butting anyone who bent over.

Fast-forward to a big family party after a college football game.

I had just bought a brand-new orange Corvette, and we were celebrating hard.

One of the guests had a few too many scotches and stumbled down the hall to the bathroom. On his way, he looked out the window and froze.

“Martha… you’re not going to believe this, but there’s a goat standing on an orange Corvette.”

She followed him to the window. Of course, by the time she looked, Sticks had hopped off.

“I don’t see a goat,” she said. “Harry, we’re going home.”

Sadly, a few months later, a pack of dogs killed Sticks.

Dad spotted him in the yard and called out:

“Michael, before school, you need to bury that goat.”

Mike did not want to. But Dad insisted.

So, Mike found a shortcut.

He dragged the goat to our old wood-paneled station wagon, tied a rope around its neck, pulled it to the end of the driveway, and hoisted it into the family dumpster.

“Did you bury the goat?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Mike said, ready to head to school.

But just as he was about to leave, the Waste Management guy showed up. He opened the dumpster to toss in some boxes — and froze.

Inside were four hooves sticking straight up.

He marched to the door and banged hard. Dad answered.

“Sir, I have picked up a lot of trash in 20 years. But never a dead goat.”

Michael! Get that goat out of the dumpster