Mr. Yellow Tom Is A Helper Too

I am the sole Annie's Goat Hill Handcrafted Soaps business person. I manage the goats (my husband helps with purchasing the hay and occasional goat treatments) and I operate the business end of everything. My hats include management, shipping, producing of product, accounting, finance, marketing and customer service. I love my hats...love, love, love them!

My closest friends ask me, "What are you going to do when you can no longer handle this on your own?" They see the growth, so do I. I do not know what the answer is. They are aware that I am aware. But, for now, it will be left to prayer. Leaving something to prayer does not mean that I do not think about it. My best thinking times are not done while sitting down and staring at blank space. I could be on the lawn mower, in the shower, or even feeding the goats in the barn. I do not worry about these questions, I just ponder from time to time. Making life's decisions, those that are not needing immediate attention, means (to me) to sit back and allow the random thoughts to roll through. It is like putting everything in a mixing tumbler. Let it roll gently, not violently, let everything big and little sift out. The answers will come.

I am way off track from my original topic here, but that is okay, and it all fits together! I like for people to know me for who I am, that is important.




As I was thinking about things in the barn this morning, preparing the milk machine for the girls, I saw yellow ears pop up out of the bucket that I toss used baling string into. Mr. Tom, the yellow cat from the last litter on the farm, had been napping in the bucket. The crazy fellow!



Mr. Yellow Tom was pretty much abused by his older brother, whom is fondly called My Boy on the farm. My Boy is a gentle cat that drank a lot of goat's milk as he was up and coming. I can rub his belly, play with him like a house cat. And when I find the teeth and nails getting over zealous, he listens to me when I say "that is enough." I find him following me around like a lost puppy. And I tell him, "Stay out of the road, I need you around for a while."


My Boy beat up on Mr. Yellow Tom when he was about 2 weeks ol. Mr. Yellow Tom would screech, the claws would fly, and I always said, "He (yellow) isn't going to make it." Well, those two are buddies, they were playing after all. And Mr. Yellow Tom ended up being pretty mean. You could not pick him up without a lot of human arm and leg damage.


Two weeks ago something changed. I found Mr. Yellow Tom rubbing against my legs in the milk room, "Meow, meow, meow." I decided to pick him up. Hmmm...what was that, purring? He now lives in the milk room 90% of the day. He is a fantastic mouser. He has a purpose, and he works for me, even though he does know it! He can sleep with the baling string any time that he likes. He earns it. And I do not need to pay a penny to the state for worker's comp...hmmm...he is quite the deal!



We have 6 brand new kittens now. Two yellow striped, two black and grey, and two black. The black kittens are mean. I am trying to make a Mr. Yellow Tom out of them, not sure I will be successful. But...each day they get a bowl of warm goat's milk. They could be well on their way towards earning their own Mr. Yellow Tom Awards!