During my first week at Bethany, my dear roommate wrote a ridiculous song about the greenness of the campus grass. The lyrics stated that it was a sheep’s paradise and then questioned, “how ‘bout the goats?” We had many a laugh at the expense of and making fun of goats worldwide. Now, it seems that the goats have gotten their revenge. At least, their revenge upon me.
One of the islands I have recently visited is known for raising goats. It’s a small island and the goats have free range; walking into house, on the jetties, even in the cemetery. For the most part, I had little interaction with them. In fact, only time I actually remember touching one was when it tried to bite the candy in my pocket and bit my leg instead. I’m now nursing a nice little bruise and I am convinced that he must have known that I was a “goat-mocker” in earlier days and done it out of spite.
On a more serious note, it was interesting to learn that the goats on the island know the sound of their master’s voice. From the other side of the village they can recognize their master’s voice and respond to his calling. Sound familiar?
“My sheep hear My voice, and I know them, and they follow Me…”