The moment I saw what Theo was carrying, something inside me snapped.
“Let him go!” I shouted.
My heart had already started pounding—not from fear, but from sheer, unfiltered disbelief.
Because what I was looking at made absolutely no sense.
Theo was clutching a fully-grown mountain goat against his chest like it was a lost puppy.
The animal’s legs dangled awkwardly, its hooves kicking at the empty air, and its shaggy grey-white fur was matted with mud and bits of dried grass.
The goat looked almost as confused as I felt.
“No!” Theo hugged the mountain goat tighter, his knuckles going white.
“He’s not a thing.
His name is Gogo, and he’s going to live with us.” I blinked.
The words hung in the air between us, refusing to make sense.
“…Live with who?” Surely I had misheard him.
My ears had to be playing tricks on me.
Perhaps the altitude was affecting my hearing.
Perhaps I had hit my head somewhere along the way and was now hallucinating a reality where theo had lost every shred of common sense he’d ever possessed.
“I said he’s going to live with us,” Theo repeated stubbornly, his chin jutting out in that defiant way I knew all too well.
It was the same look he’d worn when he had insisted on keeping a half-dead frog he’d found in the garden.
That frog had lasted three days.
And now he wanted to do it again—but this time with something significantly larger and significantly more likely to destroy everything I owned.
I pointed at the goat.
My hand was trembling slightly.
“Theo…
you’re not keeping a mountain goat as a pet.” “He’s not a pet.” Theo puffed out his chest proudly, a ridiculous gesture considering he was still clinging to a goat that clearly wanted to be anywhere else.
“He’s my child.” I stared at him.
The wind howled around us, carrying the distant sound of birds and the rustling of pine trees.
Somewhere in the valley below, a normal family was probably having a normal conversation about normal things.
But not me.
No, I was standing on a mountain listening to Theo claim fatherhood over an animal.
“…You’re the child.” “I can still be a father,” Theo insisted, his eyes wide with sincerity.
“No, you can’t.” “Yes, I can.” “Theo.” “I’ve already decided.” “No.” He hugged the goat even tighter, burying his face in its dirty fur.
“I’m keeping him.” “No, you’re not.” Right on cue, the goat let out a loud, ear-splitting bleat.
“Meeeeh.” It did so directly into Theo’s face.
Theo wrinkled his nose, his expression crumpling with disgust.
“Ew…” I folded my arms across my chest, a small, vindicated smile tugging at the corner of my mouth.
“He even has bad breath.” Theo quickly recovered, shaking off the assault on his nostrils.
“We just need to take good care of him.” “No one takes good care of a mountain goat!” I nearly shouted, my composure finally cracking.
“They’re wild animals, Theo!
They climb cliffs!
They eat things they shouldn’t!
They have horns!” “They’re animals too.” Theo looked genuinely offended now, as if I had personally insulted every living creature on the planet.
“They deserve love and care.” “The greatest act of love you can show that animal is leaving him on the mountain where he belongs.” I said.
He’s an animal?
When did I ever say he wasn’t?
“But…” Theo looked around triumphantly, his eyes scanning the rocky terrain, the snow-capped peaks in the distance, the endless expanse of wilderness that surrounded us on all sides.
“…We are on the mountain.” He looked back at me with a victorious smile, the kind of smile that made me want to throw something at his head.
“So he can live with us.” I opened my mouth.
Then closed it again.
Then opened it once more.
I hated how much sense that sounded like.
It was a terrible, nonsensical argument, but it was also technically correct.
And Theo knew it.
He could see the realization dawning on my face, and his smile only grew wider.
“Theo, no.” “What’s going on?” Garrett asked.
He had walked over after hearing us argue, his footsteps silent on the rocky ground.
The man moved like a ghost when he wanted to, and right now.
The goat immediately bleated.
“Meeeh.” Garrett tilted his head slightly toward the sound, a gesture I had come to recognize as him cataloging his surroundings.
“…Is that a goat?” “Yes!” Theo beamed, his entire face lighting up.
“My cute goat!” I scoffed so loudly I almost hurt myself.
“Cute?
When has any goat been cute?
Let alone a mountain goat.
They’re scraggly.
They smell.
They have creepy horizontal pupils.
They—” “You just hate animals!” Theo accused.
“I do not.
I just don’t want a goat living in my house.” “It’s not Gogo’s fault,” Theo defended passionately.
“He’s a good goat.
The best goat.
He just needs a chance.” I folded my arms tighter, my patience fraying with every passing second.
“The greatest act of kindness you can show him is taking him back to the mountain.” “But we are on the mountain!” Theo argued again, as if repeating the same flawed logic would somehow make it correct.
“…That’s not the point.” Theo hugged Gogo even tighter, his expression turning pitiful.
“I’m keeping him.” “No, you’re not.” “It’s just a goat,” Garrett said calmly, his voice carrying that infuriating steadiness that made me want to scream.
I turned to him in disbelief.
“You don’t understand.” “I don’t.” His voice remained as steady as ever.
“It’s a harmless animal.” “I don’t see the problem.” “The problem?” I pointed at Gogo, my finger shaking.
“That is the problem.
Have you even considered the logistics?
He’ll smell.
He’ll make noise.
He’ll chew everything.
Everything, Garrett.
My furniture.
My clothes.
My sanity.
And somehow I’ll end up taking care of him, because that’s what always happens!” Garrett was quiet for a moment, his sightless eyes fixed somewhere in the distance.
Then he said, “I still don’t see anything wrong.” Theo nodded vigorously, almost dropping Gogo in the process.
“Exactly!
Gogo is innocent!
He is just being a goat, and Syly wants to throw him out!” “Why are you treating him like this?” Theo cried, his voice cracking with genuine distress.
“How could I leave Gogo all alone in the mountains?
He has no family!
No friends!
No—” “Are you really making a child cry over a goat?” Garrett asked.
“Can you stop taking his side?” I groaned, pressing my palm against my forehead.
“I’m not taking anyone’s side,” Garrett replied, that faint, maddening smile still on his lips.
“I’m simply saying it’s a harmless goat.” Almost as if it understood the conversation— “Meeeh.” The goat bleated again, louder this time, as if to emphasize its own harmlessness.
“Shut up!” I snapped, my voice echoing across the mountain.
Theo gasped, his jaw dropping.
“You yelled at Gogo!” I ignored him and turned to Garrett, desperation creeping into my voice.
“You can’t even see him.
How do you know he’s harmless?” A faint, almost imperceptible smile appeared on Garrett’s face “I don’t need to see him.” “All animals are harmless or at least most of them” “Exactly!” Theo exclaimed through his tears, his voice breaking with emotion.
“Mister understands!
Only Syly hates animals!
Syly has no heart!
Syly—” “I don’t hate animals…” The words died halfway out of my mouth.
I looked from Theo, clutching his beloved goat with tears streaming down his face…
…to Garrett, standing there with that insufferable, smile…
…then to the goat chewing happily on absolutely nothing, its jaws moving in that rhythmless, bovine way that seemed to mock every single argument I had made.
There was no winning this.
Absolutely none.
I could feel the fight draining out of me, replaced by a bone-deep exhaustion.
My shoulders slumped.
The tension in my jaw finally released.
I pinched the bridge of my nose, squeezing my eyes shut against the headache that was already forming behind my temples.
“…Whatever.” I turned around and marched back into the house, leaving the three of them outside.
My footsteps were heavy on the wooden porch, each step a declaration of defeat.
Behind me, Theo cheered happily, his voice carrying across the clearing.
“Yay!
Gogo!
Syly said yes!” “I did not say yes!” I shouted from inside the house, my voice muffled by the walls.
But Theo either didn’t hear me…
…or simply chose to ignore it.