Cenizo Journal Winter 2010 | Page 24

S PRIGGS B OOT & S ADDLE Repair • Tack • Jewelry • Rodeo Motorcycle Gear • Gifts and more! We ship anywhere 608 1/2 E Holland Ave. • Alpine (432) 837-5000 C ONTEMPORARY W EST T EXAS A RT 401 N. 5th Street • Alpine TX 79830 (432)837-5999 Representing work by Charles Bell • Karl Glocke Ling Dong • Carlos Campana Hours vary or by appointment Art and Guitar classes • Weekend workshops offered Hand-painted signs and graphics “A w Mom,” I pleaded. N Bonnie Dale Bratton Attorney at Law Alpine, Texas Family Law, Business Litigation Personal Injury Litigation 432.837.9201 bonniedalebratton@yahoo.com 24 by Blair Pittman ~ Illustrated by Mark Kneeskern N Cenizo “No way,” she stated. Firmly. “But he’ll be lonely without me.” “Positively, NO. A baby goat has no place in the car with people. Besides, he’ll poop everywhere.” I countered with, “But can’t you make him a diaper or something?” My mom was a school- teacher, so I was hoping she could understand my wish. I was 7 years old, and the goat was important to me. “Well, I guess I could make a burlap diaper,” she said, finally relenting. Mom telephoned Dad let- ting him know we were about to leave. My dad, Rex Ivey, owned the Lajitas Trading Post. When it came time for me to go to school the family had decid- ed that Mom and me would move to Alpine. We would make the trip back home as often as possible. We loaded up the car for the weekend drive to Lajitas, including my now-diapered goat and everything we would need if we had to spend the night on the road. That includ- ed plenty of water, food and First Quarter 2010 two spare tires on the back bumper. Off we went. Now, in 1958 the way from Alpine to Lajitas was 90 miles of dirt roads – at least a four-hour drive. Not long after we left, it began to look like rain out to the west. Sure enough, when we got to Terlingua Creek, it was bank-to-bank water and roaring. So we got ready to spend the night in the car. Mama made it clear – she wasn’t going to sleep with a goat in the car. She didn’t say it, but I knew she meant that the diaper certainly needed chang- ing by now. It might have been a stinking goat, but it was my stinking goat. So the baby goat was tied to the back bumper for the night. I slept in the back seat, and Mom had the front seat. In the night, we were waked up by a hissing noise. It sound- ed kinda like a big snake. A few minutes later we heard it again. We didn’t dare check outside because we really didn’t want to know what that hissing was, so we went back to sleep. Here came the sun, and here came Dad driving a road grader, in high gear. He didn’t even slow down at the far creek bank. He just drove that big thing right across. Of course, it had gone down some overnight. Also, my Dad was the county road commissioner. He knew we were coming, and he knew it had rained, so he pretty well figured where we would be. His thinking was right on, as it usually was. He was all grins as he braked to a stop beside us. When he saw my goat tied behind the car, his grin faded. He got close to the spares, felt one, then the other – FLAT, BOTH OF THEM. The goat had chewed off both valve stems. That explained the hiss- es we had heard. He and Mama wandered a little way from me. I heard some yelling and Mama explaining about my pet goat. I heard, “Diaper? For a goat?” He hooked up a chain from the bumper of the car to the big old road grader. Off we went, through the water, Mom steering with the engine turned off. The car floated a bit, but that grader kept pulling us. On the other side, the engine start- ed, and we followed behind Dad the 30 or so miles to Lajitas. As always, I enjoyed our visit at home. I got to play with my Mexican friends, who sure admired my goat. So did their fathers. Finally it was time to leave for Alpine. I looked and looked for my goat, but I couldn’t find him anywhere. It was years later I learned about what a delicacy barbe- cued cabrito is.