You Forgot Your Goat

Excuse me, Sir?

Yes?

I'm afraid you left something
after our session today.
I only noticed it when hoovering
but thought I should pop round,
so anyway, here she is.

This doesn't belong to me.

I think you'll find, mud-splashed
or no, this is your property.

Oh, ho! I've been fooled that way
many a time, young lady.
You go for one thing, and return
with more baggage
than Heathrow Lost Property.
No, take it away. It's looking at me
in a manner which suggests
a tendency towards goring or rutting,
neither of which appeals to me.

I can prove it's yours.
The name on the tag?
I think you'll find it matches
what's sewn into your jersey.

And precisely how many Carcass Pritchards
lie dormant in this city?

Come on Sir, let's not drag this
over hill and dale. Please take her lead
in hand and let me go about
my business.

Read my lips. Not mine.
And come to think of it,
you're not so familiar yourself.
Have we met? Perhaps
you have the wrong house.

Sir, we have met
in the literal, metaphorical
and biblical senses.
This afternoon,
post-elevenses. Remember?
Now I'm walking away
and Maisie, according to her collar,
is going to stay,
so I suggest you feed her.
Goodbye.

Wait! Oh, dear.
But how can I give her food
without knowing her dietary habits?
Are you, my dear, a vegetarian?
Lactose intolerant? Vegan?
Well, you don't say much,
but perhaps you're shy.
I must say,
you've got beautiful eyes.
May I...stroke your neck?
Oh, but you like that!
Would you care
to come in for some coffee?
I'll take that as a yes.
Well this is cosy - wait!
It's all coming back to me!