I am not as smart as a baby goat. That much is certain. For those of you who ranch, it will come as no surprise that fencing is of primary concern. Otherwise, you are left chasing the little monsters through waist high grass and scrub in a National Forest that shares space with diamondback rattlers, coyotes and alligators. Wait. This makes me a Saltwater Cowgirl. I always wanted to be a Saltwater Cowgirl ever since I read Misty of Chincoteague Island when I was eight years old. It always burned me that Maureen was left behind on the rodeo because she was a girl. Hooray! A life dream has been realized! Maybe I don’t need the boys from the Ponderosa.