Though being born in Mississippi, one of Lily’s favorite pastimes is running through piles and piles of snow. (Erin Dodge photo)
Confidently I can say, all my life I’ve loved dogs: big dogs, small dogs, medium dogs, even big cats on occasion. Their often-scruffy fur, wagging tails, and goofy smiles are just a few of the many quirks that fill me with endless amounts of joy. So little did I know that the day I decided to adopt my wet-nosed companion, Lily, I was in fact getting a dog disguised as none other than … a goat.
Lily, my pit bull, boxer, shepherd, etc. mix, has the unique ability of running, walking, jumping, and having the general merriment of a goat. Her limbs forever fly with reckless abandon and there is never a way to stop it … and why would you?
Now to the untrained eye one could say that she is simply uncoordinated, and she very much is, but I prefer to believe that this was somehow a learned trait from her early upbringing. As I mentioned, Lily was adopted and from that, much of her past is unknown. What I do know is that she was born in Mississippi, briefly lived on a farm, and then brought to the local shelter before being transferred to Midcoast Humane where our paths crossed.
The day I met Lily, she introduced herself to everyone with growls and barks from the corner of her cage. I decided to sit with her, and, after some time, the growling stopped as I saw her slowly crawl towards me. When she reached the edge of the cage, she stared while gently brushing her nose against my arm; we looked at each other and both fell in love.
While I choose not to think of the issues Lily previously struggled with based on her thin appearance and initial unfriendly nature, I like to imagine that as she lived on the farm, she had many an adventure learning to prance and play with the goats.
Maybe they taught her how to run, she taught them how to herd themselves?
The absolute freedom and satisfaction and happiness on her face when she gets to hoppity-hop through the yard makes it difficult to argue with this theory.
Among Lily’s other quirks include, but are not limited to, her love of sweaters and bandanas (these also tend to cause more prancing and jumping), her ability to repeatedly scold me with her huffing fits, her mishmash of short ears, short tail, and uniquely long teddy bear fur on her belly, her inability to eat anything in one place, her pure love of snow, and also her pure love of blistering heat and sunshine.
Now as Lily and I celebrated her six-year adopt-a-versary this month, it’s hard to believe this jumping canine is almost 8. Defiant to that fact, she will always try her best to prance and run with uninhibited joy and she will always be my goat-y little girl.
(“Paper Pets” spotlights the animal companions of Lincoln County News employees.)
