This story is not one that everyone will love nor do I intend it to be. Some may call it boring, others may say it is ridiculous. Some may find some random symbolic meaning that wasn’t intended to be in the story at all. I can’t tell you whether or not any of that is true, I can only tell you what is true. What is true is that I, Agatha Aubri Ashbury, a young female of below average height and nothing to show for her life but an admittedly astounding collection of rocks, was once turned into a goat.

It was a Thursday in October; a windy Thursday in October. I woke up at exactly 8:34 am (As being homeschooled allowed me to do so). Upon waking, I realized immediately something was not right. You see, normally, I reach for my glasses as soon as I wake up, but when I did, I couldn’t grab them because I lacked hands. The replacement were black hooves. Confused and unable to clearly see, I decided before I would freak out and/or dealt with my newfound hooves, I ought to figure out how to put my glasses. The result (after many, many trials and errors) was me just shoving my face into them. After it all was over, I internally checked this off as a victory in my inventory of internal victories.

After the glasses fiasco was properly taken care of, I thought it was a good time to deal with the hooves. And now that my vision was unimpaired, I could clearly see I had fur. With a growing concern, I walked over to the mirror that was placed next to my rock collection (251 different rocks, by the way). My reflection was quite shocking. You see, my theory was just my young brother, Alfred, had somehow done this to me in response to a quite disastrous babysitting experience (all I’m going to say is that we are now no longer welcome at our local outlet mall and my father will never buy grape soda again). What actually happened was much more horrifically magnificent; I had been turned into a goat.

Yes, a goat. My hair, once long and the color of cashews, was replaced with white, scruffy fur. I had four legs and no arms, my hands and feet were turned into fur. My brownish green eyes were now small and beady. I have to admit, I wasn’t a bad looking, in fact, I would say I was attractive...for a goat that is. I decided that there was no reason to panic, it wasn’t like I was turned into a buffalo (I really hate buffalos). I figured the best thing to do was just go downstairs and talk to my dad and see what he thought.

Now, I must warn you, I am a lone female swimming in a world of testosterone. I reside with my dad, Aaron Adamm Ashbury, my twin brother Augustus Alexander Ashbury, and my little brother Alfred Andrew Ashbury. My mother, Lillian, left us about as soon as Alfred was born, claiming that she had to go discover herself. Well, she did discover herself, and apparently she was located in the Bahamas with some guy named Viper. My dad didn’t take her absence well. When she left, he had us move into this awful house off the highway. It is gaudy yellow, my mother’s least favorite color, with a daisy garden out front...another thing my mother detested was daisies. My mother’s biggest fear was dolphins...can you guess what kind of animal statuettes and posters we had scattered throughout our house? It was almost pathetic to watch my dad try so hard to piss off my mom, never quite realizing the fact that she is never coming home to see it.

Anyway, back on track. Attempting to make the best out of my goat situation, I walked downstairs to find my father doing what he does best, making pancakes. By the smell of it, they were blueberry. I usually would wait until after he was finished cooking to talk to him, but I figured my current situation was pretty urgent.

“Dad,” I tried to say, but to no avail...he was way too engrossed in his art of pancake production. I tried again. “Dad,” no answer. To get his attention, I used my hoof to knock down the vase full of daisies sitting on our counter. That, as intended, got his attention. He turned around and when  he looked at me, his facial expression was pretty confused, but also annoyed at the fact that a goat just knocked over his favorite vase.

“Dad,” I started, “I’ve been turned into a goat.”

My dad was not one to be easily disturbed, his answer was a simple, “I can see that. Is this a new craze? Or the side effect of a drug all the cool kids are using?”

“No, I haven’t done any drugs recently, Dad. And to say it’s a new craze would also be wrong. No, this is a pretty involuntary change.”

“Does it upset you?”

“I don’t think so...I mean I never had anything personal against goats...I suppose I can live with this.”

“Alright, then it’s settled. You stay a goat, but Agustus is not going to be happy with this.” And just as he said his name, Augustus came rushing in the house from the backyard, closely followed  by Alfred, who was carrying a yo-yo. It’s funny, neither Agustus nor Alfred looked anything like me. Alfred, though only 9 years old, looked exactly like my dad, short, light hair (Although Alfred’s had purple streaks in it), slightly overweight. Agustus, on was tall and lanky, with dark black hair, and although he was, like me, 17 years of age, he had a full grown moustache. The two were arguing about something or another, completely oblivious to everyone else in the kitchen

Agustus was yelling at Alfred, “I told you there was no way that you can yo-yo with your toes, Alfred. Dad’s going to kill us when he sees his favorite ceramic dolphin.”

Dad growled, “What did you two idiots do?”

Alfred was quick to pipe up, “Nothing that can’t be fixed with imagination and duct tape, Dad.”

Rolling his eyes, Dad just said, “I’ll deal with that later. Right now boys, I have an family announcement. I just wanted everyone to be aware that your sister, Agatha has been turned into a goat. After discussion, we’ve decided we are just going to keep her that way. So, Agustus, I’m putting you in charge of helping her with schooling. That means you will help her do things such as writing notes and turning pages. Alfred, you will be taking over the chores she can’t do as a goat, which means you are now taking care of polishing the ceramic dolphins. Got it?”

“This is ridiculous!” Agustus starts, “She cannot stay a goat. Do you realize how many diseases goats carry?”

“No,” my Dad said. “Do you?”

“Well...no, not exactly. But I’m sure there’s thousands!”

Alfred, unlike Agustus, was more excited about having a new goat sister, “I like her as a goat! I think she is a lot prettier this way, too.”

I had to frown at that one, “Thanks Alfred.”

“No problem!” He obviously did not detect my sarcasm.

I suppose Dad thought it was a good time to cut in before anything else broke out, “Alright, it’s settled then. Agatha stays a goat. Any objections? No? Good. Okay, next order of business-” he was cut off but the doorbell, Alfred peeked behind the wall to see who it was.

He tells me, “Agatha, it’s Sebastian.” Sebastian Tate was my boyfriend, and the perfect one at that. Besides being insanely dashing, with his tall (6’7, one ft 10 in taller than me), freckled body, flaming red hair, and captivating green eyes, he was also extremely talented. Sebastian was not only a proficient croquet player as well as being fluent in Portuguese, but also the best ametuer juggler in Oklahoma. I guess I would have called myself lucky to have such a man all to myself. I knew he would accept and love me as a goat just as he loved me as a girl.

“Alfred,’ I asked, “would you be so kind as to answering the door?” he complied and Sebastian came in. When he walked in the kitchen and saw me, a look of confusion spread across his face. The expression deepened when I started speaking.

“Hey Sebastian.”
With a great amount of discomfort, he replied, “Hey guys, your goat is talking. Is that supposed to happen?”
“Sebastian, it’s me...your girlfriend.”
“...Agatha?”
“Awesome, we are on the same page.”
“No. No we are not on the same page, not even a little bit.”
I rolled my eyes (Well, at least I think I did, I’m not quite sure if goats can roll their eyes), “It’s pretty obvious babe, I was turned into a goat.”

“How on earth did you manage to turn into a goat?” He was getting a bit snippy and it wasn’t appreciated at all.
“This wasn’t my fault, I just woke up like this. It’s not like I decided to be a goat. Furthermore I don’t appreciate you using that tone, it’s not like you’re the one who just sprouted horns and a tail.”

He softened a bit, “You’re right, I’m sorry, I’m just a bit shocked is all. So, what’s the plan for changing back?”
“Oh...well about that,  I don’t really plan to. I’m not really bothered by being a goat; I think I’m just going to stick with it.”

All traces of him calming down were gone, and went past snippy and moved right up to angry, “Agatha, you cannot be serious. You can’t be a goat.”
“Why not?” I was really getting miffed with his bossiness.
“Well, for one thing, there is no way I can date a goat!”
“That’s pretty judgemental, Sebastian. You really shouldn’t judge someone on their species. It’s 2014, people don’t really accept that bigotry attitude.”
“Agatha, you are being ridiculous. I’m not a bigot, I just don’t really feel like being arrested for BEASTIALITY!”
“Is this how you really feel?” I would have been crying, but goats don’t have tear ducts.
“Of course this is how I feel! This is how any sane person would feel.”
“Are you calling my family and I insane?!”
“It’s really not a big secret that your family is nuts! I used to think it was adorable but you know what? I think this has gone to far.”
“What are you saying?”
“I think it’s time that we start seeing other people.”
My whole world turned upside down, “What? No!”
“Agatha, you belong in bedlam...not my bed.”
“No, you can’t just leave me! I can change! I’ll turn back into a human. Don’t leave me Sebastian.”
“I’m sorry, Agatha, it’s over. And I’ll come by tomorrow to take back my Junior National Juggling trophy,” and with that, he left, leaving me one lonely goat.

My father, who was standing there the whole time with my brothers, tried to depart some comforting words of wisdom on me, “Don’t get to hard done by it, Agatha. Love will chew you up and spit you out. One minute, you are a happy family in love, and the next you are left alone with nothing but three kids to raise and pancake batter on your face.” Obviously talking about something else, my father excused himself to go write is pain down in a journal, as he so often does. All the while Agustus, who was quite fond of Sebastian, was hysterical, maybe more so than me.

Agustus ran after Sebastian yelling, “Sebastian! Wait! She can change. I know she can! Don’t leave me...I mean her like this. SEBASTIANNNN!”
That just left me and Alfred alone in the kitchen. He looked at me and asked, “You wanna see me yo-yo with my feet?”

“Sure,” I replied and followed him out to the backyard to watch him (which ended in another broken ceramic dolphin). I realized at that point that to the people who care about me, it doesn’t matter if I’m a goat. As odd as some people may see my family, I see them as people who will always accept me no matter how bad or weird things get. I will always love that.

Sebastian found someone new, and they are happily married as of last year. The second half of that happy couple was none other than Agustus. I attended their wedding and made amends with Sebastian. He deserves it, he loved Sebastian more than I ever did. Alfred did learn how to yo-yo with his feet, he ended up getting in the World Record book for it. My dad is on this dating site now, trying to find someone to replace mom. Nothing has gone past the first date, it usually just ends in my dad being banned from the restaurant (He is up to being banned from 43 places nationwide). He keeps trying though, he knows there is someone out there for him.
As for me, I can’t complain. 8 months and 13 days after that day, I turned back into my original human form (oddly, with a better complexion). I must say, I have never been more grateful for opposable thumbs.  I attended my brother’s wedding and made amends with Sebastian. In the end, everything turned out just fine and went back to the way it was. I’m sorry if  this wasn’t the end you wanted or expected-actually, I’m not sorry. Why would I be? I promised you a true story, and I delivered. There it is, the story of how I, Agatha Audri Ashbury, a young female with now perfect skin and two legs, was once temporarily turned into a goat.

End.