A bleating goat turns the attention toward it, as the sound or tone of the animal tweaks a long past memory of a similar voice. Why but for all that was around on the farm or in the pastures, this one goat seems to puzzle of memories during high school years.
Smiling as then walking toward the mahogany colored furry goat, it standing almost upright using the forelegs to brace against the wire pen fence. "Baa-naa, baa-naa, naa, naa," the goat begins to react as if frantic.
"Hey there, found somebody you like?" Dave exiting his house then yells his humered greeting.
"Not quite," was spoken reply, "Her bleated tone reminds of our famous class singer, you recall, her name was Carol, yes Carol Williams!"
Dave slowed his jogging run to meet up with his pal, and as he comes close to the goat in her pen, the seemingly friendly acting animal turns her face toward Dave and let go a rant of angry sounding bleats.
"Wow, seems that not all of your farm animals appreciate their owner," was said as to taunt a friend and not spoil the moment of renewed friendship.
"Huh, funny or odd that you would remember of Carol Williams, as I named her as Carol, yes Carol the goat, just like that snob Carol Williams who stood me up on a date. Hey, as I recall now, she went with you to the senior prom dance, even after I asked her firstly, she chose you!" Dave remarking brought back his disgusted memories of Carol and her bow boyfriend what lasted for two years, or until she entered the Juilliard school of music.
"Baa baa-naa-baa," the goat shrieked, swinging its head from her staring at Dave and then fluttering her eyelids when looking at her friendly, more caring visitor.
"Help cool her down and jump inside her pen, like chase her, play tag, get to know the feel of being as a goat playmate," Dave suggested.
Offering Dave a fool's smile, the leaping over the pen fence was quite easy. "Grab her by the butt!
Huh, you do and your position here on my farm is then guaranteed, because Carol there knows her need for a Billy, and you dear friend would make a fine herd sire buck."
The rather lovely as clean mahogany red furred goat leaped off the pen fence and ran with her foolhardy suitor in chase. Dashing right to left and around in circles while Dave stood outside the goat pen and small pasture, he smirking, waiting for when his friend would lay a hand on, or touching, maybe grab hold of Carol the goat, and then came a gifting all would remember for years of cum!