Here's an story of mine that resurrected from an old post, it's about a goat with a dead wish, Eid Mubarak again:
Meet “Chops” my pet fishing goat. Chops was a faithful companion and a most lovely goat one could ever ask to have.
She was always there by my side on those long lonely and dusty treks over the hill to the Manori fishing spot and back, she followed in my footsteps up and down. She even let me put my kit on her back during those treks and not once did she every bleat in defiance or complain.
Chops stayed by my side from the time I got to the fishing spot and just stared at me in admiration or at the ocean in appreciation. The only time did she bleat was when something splashed in the water as if to catch my attention and say “feeding”. She even doubled up as a retriever and helped land that Threadfin or the odd Barramundi. She did seem to have a bit of a problem with a Barra but managed well with the smaller ones.
However there comes a time in every anglers life where you go through a bit of a lean period. For 5 months I had caught nothing and so one day out of pure frustration I introduced her to Bert, my hunting knife.
Desmond (red cap) was present that day, we shared chops equally. That was the only day I carried chops (now true to her name) back to the ferry pier, well fifty percent of her any way.[/quote