Our beloved Pastor Burton A. Knudsen was retiring after over thirty-years as the Pastor of our First Presbyterian Church. Staying in the community it would be look but don't touch. We needed a shift in our relationship. In Nashville, Tennessee and again in Des Moines, Iowa, I saw goats. They gave me an idea.
At his retirement I told him we were concerned he'd be lonely so we got him a pet. The audience of over 200 gasped, "She didn't!"
"In Mississippi we found a homeless pet Diane, the church secretary, named 'Goliath'. With a name like that can you imagine the appetite? Weaned and housebroken, it's diet requires 18% crude protein. "
Pastor guessed it was a catfish, opend the Fed-Ex box and did what any kid would do: took the angora, cloth, happy-faced fourteen-inch tall goat out of the box and hugged it. It's pail of 18% crude protein petfood just happened to be chocolate.
In Goliath we had a bridge that demanded nothing of Pastor. We could call and, "If Pat answers, just ask how the old goat, I mean Pastor is."
copyright 2005 Red Convertible Travel Series