Taming the Grassy Mound

Once upon a time, in the village of Weedville, lived an elderly man with a crown of white hair named Matteo. The large backyard of his beige bungalow contained a small lawn and a patchwork garden of vegetables and herbs, which brought him much joy. The one thing in his yard that did not bring him joy was the grassy mound in the corner of his yard, covered with tuft-grass, weeds, and thistles.  

Matteo tried everything he could think of to keep the weed-infested mound under control, but to no avail. He used a lawnmower, a weed-whacker, grass shears, and an old-fashioned scythe. He burned it and poisoned it. No matter what he did, however, as if by some evil curse, the grass and weeds would quickly grow back thicker and taller than before, mocking his futile efforts. 

One sunny afternoon, as Matteo sipped sweet tea on his front porch, his neighbor Tomas walked by on his daily stroll. “Hi,” said Matteo, “how’s it going?”  

“Hey you, it’s going great,” Tomas replied as he stopped to chat. After some small talk, Matteo told Tomas about his never-ending battle with the stubborn, weed-choked mound. With a twinkle in his eye, Tomas said, “I have an idea. My goats can take care of it for you.”  

Matteo raised his white bushy eyebrows. “Goats? Tell me more, my friend.” 

“I have some goats that really love to eat,” said Tomas. “My backyard is rocky and doesn’t grow much, so I have to buy them feed, and it gets pretty expensive. I keep them only because they are fine milkers, and I sell their milk to the cheese factory. So, let me bring my goats over, and they will do what goats do best: eat.” 

“But won’t they eat my vegetables and herbs too?” 

“Oh no, my goats don’t like vegetables; they eat only grass, thistles, thorns, and weeds,” Tomas replied. “The tougher, the better. They thrive on it. They’re the perfect munching machines.”  

“It’s a win-win for both of us. My goats keep your mound clear of grass and weeds, and I will get better quality milk and lower feed costs.”

“Let’s do it,” said Matteo. 

The next day, Tomas brought over his goats, and both men watched with amusement as they bounded happily up the mound and devoured the thick growth with gusto. Matteo laughed at the spectacle of the voracious hooved creatures munching the weeds to stubble. 

Every day, Tomas brought his goats over to feast on the unruly thicket, transforming the area into a neatly trimmed mound. This made Matteo happy.  

The goats were happy with their new diet too, and they rewarded Tomas with better quality milk than ever before. This made Tomas happy. And when he sold his milk, it made the owners of the cheese factory happy as well. 

After a few days, Matteo noticed something curious. Each day, as soon as the goats cleared the mound, it would quickly sprout again, but with fewer weeds than the day before. The fresh growth contained a variety of wildflowers, herbs, and wild strawberries, colorful and fragrant. It was as though the goats’ presence had awakened something magical in the soil.

One day, when Tomas came to retrieve his goats, Matteo pointed out the new wildflowers that covered the mound.  

Tomas chuckled. “Well, my friend, it looks like you don’t need my goats anymore, because there aren’t any weeds or thistles left to eat. With all the goat’s munching and droppings, the mound has become a wildflower garden all its own, and they won’t eat that.”

And so it had. Who would ever think a mere herd of goats could redeem the unredeemable? Transform the untransformable? Matteo marveled at the sight. The curse was broken. What a fine job the goats did taming the grassy mound!

As he admired the flowers, a thought occurred to him  — an idea so obvious he wondered why he hadn’t thought of it before. Why hadn’t he just hired someone to level the backyard and remove the mound completely? That would have solved the problem right away, with no need for the goats. But as soon as he thought it, he realized that if he had, he would have missed the delight of watching a flock of hungry goats devour the thicket like a gourmet meal, leaving a wonderful wildflower garden in its place.