Of Goats and Rattlesnakes

Jack Richards was one of a kind for sure. I called him Uncle Jack, even though he was really my Dad's uncle, my great uncle. And he was a real practical joker as most of the clan was in View, Texas.

On one of our many trips to View, I had a great time playing with one of Jack's young goats. I would grab it by the horns and push and it would push back. We had a real tug-of-war. Uncle Jack took special note of this and I'm sure that wheels started turning. Shortly after we arrived back home in Pasadena, a shipping crate showed up, unannounced. I don't know how much it cost Uncle Jack to ship that goat, but I'm sure it was worth every penny when he got a reaction out of my Dad.

The goat was really fun for a couple of days, but then our next door neighbor, Rex Hart, complained that he hadn't slept for two nights. When the goat bleated it was really loud and sounded like a baby crying. The goat was taken out to our horse pasture in Pasadena, at least that's what Dad said he did. On the next trip there, the goat was nowhere to be seen. Dad said it might have run away or maybe dogs got it. I believed him, but later in life started doubting his story when I got my first taste of cabrito.

As an addendum, there is another goat story that happened many years later in Kerrville. When we bought our first little house in Kerrville, our next door neighbor was Ricardo Gonzales, a naturalized citizen originally from Mexico and professional crazy man. Suffice it to say that his exploits are legendary in Kerrville. To make a long story short, I did him a favor by helping him one year with his tax return. A couple of days later, a goat kid appeared in our backyard. Ricardo brought it in from his ranchito as a way of thanking me. Drawing from my vast reserve of prior experience with goat-related debacles, I told Ricardo "thanks", but I could not keep the goat right there in town. It took a lot of arguing to convince Ricardo to take that goat back. He could not understand why anyone would turn down such a wonderful gift.

This is the same guy who came to our house at supper time one evening with a brown paper grocery sack. As Verna, baby Ben and I were sitting at the table he empties the contents of the bag on the floor right at my feet. That turned out to be a live rattlesnake. I froze as the rattler coiled up in striking position about six inches from my right foot, rattler buzzing threatenly. Verna screamed, grabbed Ben, and either stood up in her chair or on the table (can't remember which now). We were at a bit of a stand off when Ricardo kneeled down on the floor by the snake and started sticking his hands out taunting the snake. It was striking at Ricardo trying to get him he but was too fast (his martial arts training being indispensible in this situation). After a display of his bravery and agility, Ricardo casually reached down and picked the snake up. He held it up right in my face and said, "See, I sewed its mouth shut." Sure enough I could see the stitches. And he was also in stitches at his great practical joke, but I remember just marveling at what kind of sick SOB would do such a thing.

I know we kind of shifted abruptly from goats to rattlesnakes, a minor breach of Texas etiquette, but thought you might find it to be an interesting story. There are other great stories about Ricardo the Psycho that could be told, but that will be at another time.