See Spot Run

ZWEI: "A DOG ISN'T A GOAT"

There are plenty of things that Margaret Adders (almost formerly Kennicott) never thought she'd have to say, but if a shaman or oracle told her fifteen years ago she'd wake up one fine December day in 1999 to use the bathroom and shout, "Richard, why the fuck is there a goat in the bathtub?" she wouldn't have believed them.

But here she is, and here we are as Richard blindly dashes to the bathroom with a baseball bat, shouting, "Don't hurt him!" for a reason that Margaret can't quite understand but doesn't think to ask about right now.

Margaret stares at the goat, then at Richard, then back at the goat, giving them both a look that can only be described as equal parts confusion, disgust, and regret. "Richard, are you out of your mind?" she finally screams at him.

He lessens his grip on the baseball bat and drags it along the floor, running his hands through his hair before finally saying, "I can explain," although they both know that an explanation is not only the least of their problems but that there's no way he'll actually be able to follow through on that. Margaret crosses her arms in anticipation, but all Richard can do is scratch the back of his neck and smile sheepishly. "I love you?"

"Yeah, I'm not your love. I was, but I never will be again."

"I disagree."

"Well, then we're at an interesting standstill."

Suffice to say, the impending divorce of Richard Kennicott and Margaret Adders came as a surprise to only Richard himself.

After a beat of silence so thick you could cut it with a knife (or, in Richard's case, swat it with a baseball bat), Richard repeats, "I can explain," except this time he actually has a reason ready. "Remember when we had a dog? And we loved him a lot, and we loved each other a lot too?"

"A dog isn't a goat, Richard," Margaret says, barely even letting him finish.

"But we still loved him a lot, and we loved each other a lot too?" What was supposed to be a statement unintentionally sounded more like a question, but he decides to roll with it and says, "So, I thought that if we got another dog it would, like, rekindle the old flame, you know?" He playfully elbows Margaret in the ribs, but she only looks slightly irritated at the gesture.

"Lovely story. A goat still isn't a dog, though."

"Yeah, that's the issue. Dogs are...way more expensive than I thought."

"Aren't pet stores cheaper than breeders?"

"Yeah, but from a moral sense--"

"So you got a goat."

Richard hesitates because he feels that starting a sentence with 'yeah' for the third time in a row is too redundant. Instead, he leans against the wall and lets Margaret speak her piece. 

"You thought a goat would be a good stand-in, then," she says, crossing her arms. 

Twenty-eight years of marriage taught Richard that when she crosses her arms it means serious business, so he holds his breath to prevent him from blurting out, "No need to be so cross with me."

She glances back at the goat, who's trying to rip the shower curtain down to no avail. "You thought that a dog would save our marriage--which it won't, so don't try this again--and since a dog costs too much money, you thought that a goat would be a viable substitute?"

Richard thinks, scratches his beard, and then nods hesitantly.

Margaret initiates phase two of severe disappointment by raising her eyebrows. "Do you see why I'm upset?"

While he doesn't exactly appreciate the fact that his almost-not-wife is using the same tactics on him that she uses on her children, he nods again.

Even though he thinks the conversation is over, Margaret rubs her eyes and looks back down at the goat, fiddling with a charm on her necklace. "I'm--I think I'm just trying to process why you thought any of this would be a good idea."

"Any of what?"

Margaret forces a laugh. "This! Staying here for the holidays, buying a goddamn goat--"

"He's not just any goat," Richard argues. "He's an attack goat." While he felt that that was a suitable enough explanation, Margaret furrows her eyebrows together, so he elaborates. "I trained him and everything. Check this out." 

He slaps his knee and shouts, "Pippin, sit!" When Pippin amazingly refuses to acknowledge his command, Richard whistles and snaps in a feeble effort to gain his attention. "Come on boy, sit!"

Having decided that she's positively fed up, Margaret rolls her eyes and leaves the bathroom. Richard fumbles behind her and almost trips over the rug. "Look it, he's sitting! Maggie--"

"I don't want to look."

Miraculously out of breath after his brisk two-second jog (which was more like walking slightly faster than usual), he places his hands on his knees and says, "Listen, this is for your protection, okay? When the Y2K hits and all the computers in the world crash, we'll be fine because we have an attack goat and forty-six cans of refried beans and...and goddamnit, Maggie!"

While Richard raising his voice was unintentional, it was enough to get Margaret's attention again so he shouts, "It's December ninth. All I need are twenty-three more days and our divorce won't matter anymore because all of the computers will crash! And then it's just you, me, and...and Pippin will protect us! And Snoopy left her box of Tamagotchi things here when she moved, those have to be worth something on the black market."

While Margaret can definitely get behind the passion, the actual content proves to be another issue. All that's left for her to do is cross, uncross her arms and scoot to the couch to process things before her temper gets the best of her.

Richard can't say he's a fan of yelling and getting angry. It takes too much energy to get worked up like that and all it results in is his soon-to-be-ex-wife glaring at him from across the room while he makes plans to sleep on the pull-out couch. He sits next to her and breathes a sigh of relief when she doesn't try and move, although he accidentally brushes his hand against her thigh and she instinctively blushes and crosses her legs. Hoping that through the sheer power of his charm he can make everything better, so he smiles at her and says, "You're so cute when you're angry."

She rolls her eyes, but her lips curl up into a slight smile when she catches him looking away. "Why don't you go take care of the goat, Richard."