Catherine the Goat Hunter

So, today yet another outfit for Catherine came in the mail. It seems to have given Catherine quite a bit of inspiration to become an adventurer. I don't know how a dress with hiking boots (maybe the hiking boots are the reason, who knows) could make someone do something as dumb as hunting for crocodiles in Utah. Yea, I said crocodiles. In Utah. 

But being me, I could not pass up this opportunity to let Miss Prim and Proper get some egg on her face. I mean, come on, this is gold. Like sending people out on snipe hunts. 

"I'm serious, you two. There are no crocodiles in Utah. At least not in the wild. At least as far as I know. None. This is a desert, for pete's sake!" I said. But did they listen? Uh, no. Lanie did say something about how she read somewhere that there might not be crocodiles in the desert, but, because Catherine was wanting to go outside (in Lanie speak Catherine has "inside genes") Lanie went along for the ride. What did I do, you ask? Well, I decided to stay outdoors. Lay down on the grass. Its nice outside up here in Northern Utah. Not 110 degrees with a nasty hot wind that dries you out. Plus, no grass except the golf courses where I am from. 

Nice, soft grass. Nice perfect weather. Like Vegas at Christmas. The thing that is guiding Catherine in her quest to find crocodiles is jingling. As if crocodiles wear bells. But who am I to argue with Catherine? 

And so Catherine and Lanie set out on their quest for the bell wearing crocodile who lives in Northern Utah. I think they have a better chance of finding Elvis.

"Wait! Over there! I hear it!" shouts Catherine. Towards the tree they go, looking for that elusive, bell wearing crocodile who lives in the desert. 

When they got to the trees they forgot the jingling for a moment because they found some ladybugs. Lanie decided to keep them in a specimen jar. "Wait!" Catherine says. "I hear the jingling again!"

They run from the tree to the backside of the other tree, only to find...wait for it...A GOAT! Yes, folks, that was what was jingling. A goat. Just plain, boring Sombrita. Josefina lets her out everyday so that she will eat grass and not furniture. "See? I told ya, no crocodiles in the backyard!" I tell them. And because of the farmer next door, who is growing stuff, we took Sombrita indoors. At which point, Catherine whines. 

"I've messed up my hair! And my boots! They're covered in mud! And I got filthy for a stupid goat! Erghh!" and so we all go inside and hand Sombrita off to Josefina, who is wondering what on earth was going on. And there you have it, folks. Catherine the Goat Hunter.