I asked for a ferret when I was a kid; my parents got me a goat. Each day I had to go out and bottle feed it, which was fine I guess. Then one day they put a rubber band around his.. uh.. {censor}
nugget hops{censor} and the poor guy made the most terrifying noise I've ever heard. A couple days later one of our dogs was found running around with Billy's {censor}
nugget hops{censor} hanging out of its mouth.
Every day since, Billy was a veritable monster. He would head butt our dogs, chase my little brother and he even ate a corner of our barn. He ate about 3 sq. ft. of 100 year old barn wood. I didn't care, he was still my first pet so he was the awesomest.
Fast forward a year, we had some weird man visit our farm. My grandmother met him at some Polish club in the city. A few days later as I was laying in bed one night, I heard a bunch of noise outside and ran out to find a trailer hauling away Billy. He was to be the main course at some celebration.
I didn't even get to say goodbye.