I was jolted awake by a shrill, blood-curdling wail. My eyes snapped open. I jumped out of bed and ran to the open window, pulse racing, adrenaline pumping.
What in the world was that terrifying sound?!
I frantically surveyed the backyard, trying to figure out which animal was being murdered. But the only thing that met my eyes was a beautiful June sunrise. Perfectly peaceful and serene. The birds were twittering. The chickens were scratching contentedly. Everything appeared normal.
In fact, I was just about to shrug it off and go back to bed. Maybe I’d just been dreaming…
And then it came again:
At the far edge of our yard, our goat “Skunk” had his head stuck in the pasture fence.
With a sigh of frustration, I started getting dressed so I could go out there and rescue him. I swear that stinkin’ goat has gotten stuck at least 500 times this summer. He slips his head out of the galvanized cattle panels easy enough, but his horns have grown just big enough that he can’t seem to navigate them back through again.
And y’know, I wouldn’t blame him if he was actually reaching for something good — like some green grass or fresh weeds. But this time, that flippin’ goat had turned his back on all that! Instead of taking advantage of nearly a quarter acre of lush pasture, he had decided to shove his head into the barren corral!
Not for the first time, I found myself walking across the yard, shaking my head, and muttering under my breath:
“You can’t fix stupid!“
But to be fair, I’ve never been accused of being overly intelligent myself…
Case in point: Remember how I ran a marathon last year? Remember how it beat the tar out of my knees? Remember how running 26.2 miles in one stretch is an incredibly bad idea?
Well, a little over a week ago, I found myself signed up to run another long-distance race. This time 28 miles. Up a 9,711 foot mountain and back.
Yep, not the smartest idea in the world…
Don’t get me wrong, I had a great time and saw some amazing vistas.
But as I hobbled those last few miles down the mountain and later took off my snow-soaked shoes and socks, I couldn’t help thinking, once again:
“You can’t fix stupid!”