Goat Off My Back

Mischievous Elmo has a little habit that was cute when he was 14 lbs. but is a rather a pain, literally, now that he's 22 lbs. The agile fellow thinks it's fun to play on my back while I'm crouched down to clean the goat pen. And he doesn't merely get on my back and stay there. No, he takes a flying leap onto my back and lands with a thud. He'll dance around a bit, jump up and down and twirl, launch himself into the air, land on a wine barrel, and then bounce from the barrel to my back. I make a conscious effort to hold myself at a 90 degree angle, but if I so much as slip to 80 degrees, the Elmo Monster takes advantage, quick as a flash. I don't know what feels worse: giving up and serving as a platform for his gymnastics, or trying to right myself while four sturdy hooves fight for traction as they slide down my back.

Yesterday after observing the hoof-induced welts on my back, the Wrangler tried to ascribe some deeper meaning to Elmo's antics.

"Is it some sort of dominance thing?" he wondered.

I shook my head. "Goats aren't like dogs. Elmo isn't trying to send any message. He's just having a blast."

Oh, the google search that ensued. Anyone privy to my internet usage log will see search terms along the lines of "goat on my back" and "goat dominance." After a while, it became fairly clear that Elmo really is just being playful.

But as I sit here wincing when I lean back against my chair, I know that some goat reconditioning is in order. How do I get my goat off my back?