This is a post from the Butch blog on this site. The dog, Butch, and the goat, Nanny, were our pets.
The Goatnapper
We went upstate for Christmas in 1970. While we were gone someone moved a mobile home into one of the few wooded areas around us. The house was not visible from the road.
We returned before the new year began. Our telephone service was an 8 party line. Shortly after midnight on Jan. 1, the phone rang. When we answered, no one was on the line. There were no extensions or cordless phones. We had to go into the hallway to answer the phone. This continued every 5 or 10 minutes for several calls. Phone service in the RGV (Rio Grande Valley) at that time was not good. We began to worry that someone was trying unsuccessfully to call us and being disconnected. Then, this obviously drunk male told us to stop hanging up on him. Ken told him that he had the wrong number. The man hung up, immediately called back, and told Ken to stop answering. We could not take the receiver off the hook as it would disable the other 7 phones. The time between calls increased, but they continued all night. Sleep was impossible. I got up at 6 AM and made coffee. I answered the next call. The guy cussed me out in spades. Ken answered the next time, hung up, and began calling all General Telephone emergency numbers. He was told no one was working on New Year’s Day, therefore, they could do nothing. Ken was persistent. He went from one supervisor to another until they finally decided that he wasn’t going to give up. By 7 AM the manager of General Telephone for South Texas called. He took information about the situation. He began checking. He called back, told us the problem and assured us it would be fixed immediately even though it was a holiday. The new neighbor had accidentally been given our telephone number and our ring while we were upstate.
A few weeks passed. The children and I came home from school one afternoon. Butch was waiting for us, but there was no goat. We checked with all the neighbors and drove down every country road around us. There was no goat to be found. I did not tell the children, but I was fearful someone had stolen Nanny for cabrito. (barbecued kid goat)
When Ken came home we told him we had checked everywhere except the new neighbor. We watched as he went down the road and disappeared into the wooded area. The children kept watching. Thirty minutes passed. I became mildly worried. Could this man be dangerous? An hour passed. I began to seriously worry. Another thirty minutes passed. I decided to alert a neighbor. I told him I was going to check on Ken. If I wasn’t back in 10 minutes the children would call him. I had just gotten my “nerve up” when Ken drove up with Nanny.
Ken found Nanny in the man’s yard tied to a tree. He walked up to the guy and said, “I am your telephone neighbor, and that is my goat.” He must have had ” counselor” written across his forehead because the guy began to apologize. Then he started telling his sad story. He and his wife were having trouble, and she would not go with him on New Year’s Eve. He went alone, got very drunk, and started calling home. At first, she hung up, thus there was no one on the line when we answered. Then she totally ignored the phone as he kept calling. He gave Ken more details than he wanted to know. Ken kept listening as the story got sadder and sadder.
Ken did not ask if the animals had wandered into his yard or if he had passed by and taken her. He certainly wasn’t looking for her owners. I suspect that he was thinking barbecue, but we will never know.
The man moved a short time later.