A few words about the world of fainting goats

by Ken Carpenter

The following tale was written in 2003, though I added three lines at the end. While I never did succumb to my craving for a fainting goat, we did get two pygmy goats in 2010. I should say semi or not-so-semi goats, for they look like regular goats to me.
They are fine fellows, half brothers, but they do not play the black out game. They might if I fed them beer, for they love it dearly, but who can afford two alcoholic goats? One once put his mouth over a half full bottle of Becks, tipped his head back, and guzzled the rest in record time. The sot then quickly looked around for more.
They also love tobacco, and would gladly eat it every day. They do not eat tin cans, which shattered another one of my beliefs.
I digress however. On to the fainters.

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