Paphos People

THE GOAT IN THE POOL

Anybody who knows Peyia will recognise the location of this story which is totally true.
One evening I was taking the dog for a walk - well I think we all know the real reason why we take dogs out every morning and evening don’t we? It’s not only a walk is it.
Just up the road from us is one of our regular routes, past the Kindergarten, towards the derelict half built development of about twelve houses, they were never finished, but have been vandalised and graffitied. Turning left down the alleyway behind them, there was the plaintiff sound of a bleating goat coming from the rear of the houses. Thinking nothing of it we carried on around the empty properties, Tino, my dog, performed the duty for which he was being walked, Picking it up and tying the bag up ready for disposal we carried on.
Rounding the top corner, we came across the poor old lady (is she poor or old?) who lives on the goat farm. She was almost bent double, dressed in rags, hair hanging in rat’s tails, brown tombstone teeth and carrying a big stick. In fact looking like all of the witches in any of the Disney cartoons.
She was agitated and started talking to me, unfortunately I don’t speak Greek but I realised that she was saying that she had lost one of her goats. Cupping my hand over one ear I hopefully let her know that I had heard one, and would go and look.
Entering the complex, me and the dog started looking in the gardens, in the third one, we found, in an empty unfinished very deep plunge pool, a goat! It had obviously fallen in and was bleating to be helped out.
Going back to the road, the old lady was still looking for her missing Billy.
“Ella, Ella” (I know that’s not her real name) I called out and she started to walk towards me. We scrambled over some low walls and I pointed down at the by now really brassed off animal. There was some old furniture lying about, so I picked up a dining chair and tried to lower it into the pool but the dog and his little parcel were hampering my efforts. She came over and took the dog lead out of my hand. I handed her the parcel and continued to try and get the goat to climb onto the chair. But to no avail.
There was nothing else to do but for me to climb down into the two metre deep hole with a distressed animal with horns. I stood there like a lion tamer in a circus with my chair ready to fend off an attack. All seemed well so I put the chair against the wall and ushered the goat towards it, speaking calmly and quietly we approached the chair. He seemed to grasp the situation and placed his front feet on the seat.
Unfortunately he wasn’t tall enough to reach the top. The old lady and the dog were peering over the edge. Taking hold of the animal’s hind legs I lifted them up on to the chair allowing him to reach the top with his front legs. Leaving me with a goat sat on my shoulder, so I shoved as hard as I could, praying that he didn’t panic and let anything go from the end that was perched next to my head. The old lady grabbed his horns and pulled as I stood up on the chair.
He was out and promptly trotted off as if nothing had happened!
Now all I had to do was get out of the pool myself, luckily there was a hole in the wall where the light would be installed, so that provided the foothold I needed and with the help of the chair I scrambled out.
Effcharisto, effcharisto she kept saying, even the dog was wagging his tail in appreciation of the exciting time he had had with his new friend. She approached me holding out her hands.
“My God she’s going to kiss me” I thought “maybe she will turn into a beautiful princess or I could turn into a frog!!”But no, she simply gave me back my dog and his little parcel.
Setting off back home I mused on my new found fame in the area.

‘THE PEYIA GOAT WHISPERER’