CHAPTER 35
“Now, Peaches is a special goat,” Connie explained, “and you’ve got to be real careful when you’re milking her because she likes to make a game out of spilling the pail. And you never want to stand directly behind her either, because let me tell you, I’ve never had a heart attack, thank the good Lord, but I can’t imagine it being much more painful than a goat hoof straight to your chest.”
She chuckled while cleaning Peaches’ udders.
“Is it just the light in here, or is this goat pink?” Kennedy asked.
Connie didn’t slow down. “Nope, it’s not the light. She’s a special one, all right. That’s how she got her name. Now you get your hands clean and hand me that bucket.”
Kennedy had watched Connie work on two of the other goats already. A few summers earlier, on one of her trips
