And then there’s us with Rita, who’s currently trying to eat her competitor’s registration number.
“Rita, no!” Callie pulls her back. “That’s not food, that’s paperwork.”
“Seems like everything’s food to Rita,” I point out.
“Which is why this is going to be a disaster of epic proportions.”
“Or an epic triumph.”
“There’s no triumph in Rita’s vocabulary. Only chaos and dietary indiscretion.”
The agility course looks intense with jumps, weave poles, a tunnel, balance beam, and something called a “pause table” where the goat has to stay still for five seconds. I give Rita zero chance of completing any of these successfully.
“Look at that course,” someone says behind us. It’s Tommy Burke with his goat, Mildred, who actually looks athletic. “Mildred’s been training for six months.”
“Rita’s been training never,” Callie mutters.
“Natural talent doesn’t need training,” I say confidently.
“Rita’s natural talent is destruction.”
“Exactly. She’s going to destroy the competition.”
“Heat three!” the announcer calls through a megaphone that’s turned up way too loud. “Rita Thompson and... owner?”
“Handler,” Callie corrects. “Very reluctant handler who was not informed of this event and does not consent to whatever’s about to happen.”
“Noted for the record!” the announcer says cheerfully. “Though consent is implied by participation!”
We make our way to the starting line. Rita immediately spots the judge’s clipboard and lunges for it. The judge pulls it away just in time.
“Control your animal,” she says coldly.
“I’m trying. She has authority issues. And impulse control issues. And general existence issues.”
“And eating issues,” I add helpfully.
The judge makes a note on her clipboard. Probably “TERRIBLE GOAT—WATCH CLOSELY.”
The whistle blows. Callie releases Rita, who takes off like a rocket... in completely the wrong direction. Instead of heading for the first jump, she makes a beeline for the judge’s table where someone has foolishly left a box of ribbons.
“Rita, no! The course! THE COURSE!”
But Rita’s already reached her target. She grabs a blue ribbon in her teeth and prances around with it like she’s already won. The crowd starts laughing. Someone’s filming. The judge is not amused.
“Disqualified!” she announces into her megaphone.
“We haven’t even started yet!” Callie protests, but she’s trying not to laugh.
“You started when the whistle blew. Your goat has left the designated course area and is destroying event property.”
“She’s demonstrating initiative,” I say.
The judge glares at me. “The goat must complete the prescribed course in the prescribed order.”
“Rita doesn’t believe in prescriptions. She’s more of a holistic, freestyle goat.”
Callie’s trying to retrieve Rita, who’s now eaten half the ribbon and is eyeing the judge’s coffee. “Come on, Rita. Let’s finish this humiliation properly.”
