I told him not to put his head in a bucket, especially the tall ones with handles. But nobody ever listens to me.
"I'm stuck!" he cried.
"I realize that," I said calmly. The goat had both front legs stuck, extended to a point where they were stiff and useless. His head was down in the bucket with the handle snug around his head. I tried in vain to pry him loose - it was like pulling a lamb out backwards. He screeched.
"Look, you're pretty much stuck," I said.
"I realize I'm stuck! Get me out of here!" he bleated.
So I went to the barn, amused more than upset, to look for wire cutters to cut through the bucket. Looking over my shoulder, I saw a brown form, two hind legs and a tail, headless except for a bucket, banging around the barnyard. We are not prone to bully behavior here, but this particular chap can get pretty pushy with the elders at dinnertime, so I didn't blame the barnyard for snickering from the sidelines.
As tempting as it was to leave him there to stew over his predicament, I once again came to his rescue.
I was able to pry a leg out by bending it inside the bucket so I could pull it out first. Finally his head was free. What happened next warmed my heart, and amused it too. He just stood there, his head at my knee, resting. Not one to get cuddly, Wilbur the Acrobatic Goat needed me, and it was his way to thank me, I guess.
