“Here, Bluebell,” the boy cried out in a singsong voice.Dan leaned back against a tall oak tree and crossed his feet at the ankles, settling in for a show.“Here, girl. Come to Chris.”The little goat slowed down marginally. Chris pounced, brandishing the leash and lunging for the animal. Bluebell spurted forward. Chris missed the goat altogether, falling to his knees in the grass. Bluebell ran around the perimeter of the fence, playfully kicking up her hooves.Dan hid a smile and called, “I don’t think she’s going to let you catch her.”Chris sprang to his feet, looking energized even though he’d been to a sleepover the night before where he said he got only a few hours of shut-eye. The boy didn’t bother to wipe at the dirt and grass on his knees. “Bluebell doesn’t understand I only want to take her for a walk.”Dan was about to point out it might be easier to catch Tinkerbell, the goat who had a week to go before its cast could be removed, then thought better of it.
