We arrived at the library in the small, quaint town of Florence with only minutes to spare.  My human, Denise, had rivulets of sweat beading under her hot wool costume.  I must say that I was pretty hot too, so during the drive there, I stuck my head far out the car window as she drove like a crazy cat woman (only cats would drive that fast).  You see, the car has no air- conditioning and it was a sweltering, hot day and we were running a bit late due to an earlier program at Penrose. 
We barged through the door and were directed to a corner in the library.  The sound of laughter spilled from the corner and tickled my ears.  But as we rounded the corner, Denise immediately stopped and then screeched, "There's, there's, there's a Billy goat in the library!"  I stopped too, because I'm a well-trained dog.  But she dropped her bags.  We had packed so quickly at Florence that Denise had thrown my leash into a bag, so I was off-leash and free to go where I pleased.  But I didn’t, instead I sat and watched the creature.  I had never seen a goat before.  I cocked my ears to the left and swiveled my head in order to observe this strange bleating creature.
    The goat trembled in the librarian’s arms, bleated a few times, and then something black rolled out from its hind end.  I knew what that was—poop!  I wanted to tell it, “Don’t poop indoors!  What are you doing?”   Instead, I smiled at it, trying to calm the creature when it began to struggle.  It hopped out of the librarian’s arms and then hopped right out a window.  Fortunately, the window had no screen, but still I doubted hopping out a window was a good idea.  I raced forward, jumped over the kids watching the goat, and charged toward the window.  Honestly, I was just trying to save it.  I WAS NOT CHASING IT!  
       Although, being a border collie, it is in my nature to herd other four-legged creatures, I was not doing this.  I was concerned, I swear!!!  
    The librarian captured the poor goat and put it into a dog crate much like mine at home.  I wondered if a goat is another type of dog?  It didn’t smell or act like a dog, but if it wasn’t a dog then why would the librarian put it in a dog crate?  I was confused.
    The librarian cleaned the poop, of which there was a lot, off the floor, while Denise set up for the show.  I was a bit disappointed.  I know this is disgusting and Denise hates it when I do it, but poop tastes good.  Not hamburger good, but pudding good.  Meanwhile I watched the goat.  Denise started the program and I did what I was supposed to:  I jumped, ran through my tunnel, and dove through the hula hoop.  But my mind was on the goat.  So, whenever Denise wasn’t looking, I raced over to the window, placed my paws on the sill and checked on it.  It appeared nervous.  I don’t know why.
  The children loved the show, but I'm not sure if they enjoyed the fleeing goat more or me.  Oh, well.

 
 
Picture
Sienna jumps during a show!
I only left my show for a few seconds, but during that time, Denise, my human nearly fainted.  What would she do without me?  She called, "Sienna come!"  I raced back into the room, jumped over my jump, and dove through my tunnel.  I made it look like my disappearance was just part of the show!  And I became a star!  The children adored me!  At the end of our program, they stood in line waiting for their turn to pet me!  It was wonderful! 

 

    Author:  Sienna

    I'm a Border Collie who performs tricks and tales with my human, Denise Gard.  In my blog, I plan on relating tales of my performances,
     descriptions of my food cravings,
    and how I plan on helping Denise find a husband.

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