Kid-napping Witnesses

First, we heard the cry for help. Immediately Dawn, Jayne, and I scrambled to my bedroom window.

We couldn't believe it.

So we ran out the door. I even discarded my flip flops because they were too noisy. And for this, we needed operation stealth mode to assess the situation.

Yes, we were right. It was a baby goat. Wandering scared around our apartment complex.

We followed it until it wandered into an open garage and we frantically motioned for the home owner to stop the garage door so that it wouldn't trap the goat inside. At this time, a tall guy, with asymmetrical features and denim cutoffs walked up the stairs, whistling. I asked if he's missing a goat.

He looked surprised, then said, "Oh yes. My goat. My goat Mr. Billy Copkins." He cornered the poor thing and picked it up. And walked off briskly. Even the random boys that we've enlisted in our goat saving mission were suspicious.

---

We walked away. Did we just stand by in a kidnapping case?

Dawn wanted to call the police. I wanted to tail the guy and make sure that Mr. Billy Copkins is ok. Jayne just wanted a pet goat.

But we moved on. Dawn tried to dissuade Jayne from raising a kid (the baby goat) because they supposedly become ugly when they grow up - bad odds of having a cute one, just like Asian babies.

And then I sat down on the table to grab my pen, which is buried under a pamphlet. A church pamphlet. With Christ holding a baby lamb.

What would Jesus do?

Let the guilt trips begin.