Childhood Adventures with Furry Sidekicks: From Goat Soldiers to Real Life Warriors

vanessa brito
Sep 24, 2025
4 min read

Ah, childhood that magical time when your biggest worry was whether your imaginary fortress could withstand an invasion of squirrels, and your best friends had four legs, fur, and an uncanny ability to ignore your commands. When I was a little girl, my absolute favorite thing to do was play with my dogs, goats, and horse. They weren't just pets they were my ticket out of reality, launching me into epic adventures where the only limit was how far my imagination could stretch or how long before Mom called me in for dinner.

Picture this, a scrappy eight or nine year old me, decked out in my finest mud-stained jeans, cowgirl boots and messy hair marching around the backyard like a pint-sized general. My trusty goat let's call him General Fluff Butt, because why not? trotted faithfully at my side. We were a fierce team, conquering invisible enemies and claiming victory over the cottonwood trees my dad had recently transplanted. I'd bark orders like, "Charge!" and he'd respond by nibbling on my shoelaces. Fierce, right? Then there were the days I transformed into a world-renowned dog trainer. My dogs and I would dash around my parents' front yard, playing an intense game of hide and seek. I'd hide behind the old water tank, giggling uncontrollably, while they "sought" me by promptly falling asleep in the sun. Pro tip from my younger self Dogs make terrible spies, but excellent napping buddies.

I'm sure I wasn't all that different from most kids at eight or nine years old. At that age, we're all basically tiny dreamers, lost in a swirling vortex of make believe where the laws of physics don't apply, and bedtime is the ultimate villain. Who among us hasn't built a blanket fort that doubled as a spaceship or turned a cardboard box into a time machine? So, I like to think it wasn't that unusual for a kid like me one who grew up in the middle of nowhere (Lucerne Valley), as isolated as anyone could possibly be without starring in a survival reality show to convince herself that with each new adventure, she could survive just about anything the world could throw at her. Tornado? No problem I'd ride it out on my horse like a Wild West hero. Alien invasion? Easy my goats would headbutt them back to space. In my mind, I was unbreakable, unstoppable, and probably a bit delusional. But hey, that's the beauty of youth, zero self-awareness, maximum fun.

Fast forward a few decades, and I can't help but think about that wide eyed little girl on days like these. You know, the ones where I'm out in the pasture, playing with newborn calves and teaching them how to be good, fuzzy friends to their new families. These little bundles of joy wobble around on their spindly legs, staring at me with those big, innocent eyes, and I swear they're plotting world domination or at least a takeover of the hay bale. "Come on, buddy," I'll coo, trying to coax one into a halter, only for it to respond by kicking up its heels and sprinting off like it's auditioning for the calf Olympics. It's hilarious how history repeats itself, here I am, still wrangling animals, but now with actual responsibilities instead of just imaginary glory.

And then there's the twist that even my childhood self couldn't have dreamed up: the years I spent playing soldier for real, serving over ten years in the army. Oh, the irony! Back then, my "battles" involved dodging imaginary bullets and negotiating treaties with stubborn goats who refused to salute. In the military, it was all about real drills, real teamwork, and real early mornings that made me question my life choices. I'd march in formation in basic training, thinking, "This is just like parading with General Fluff Butt except now there's no chewing on shoelaces, and the consequences for not following exact details are way steeper." There were moments of pure comedy, like the time during basic training when a fellow recruit couldn't stop farting while the rest of us were still and silent during formation, turning our after-lunch formation into a laugh fest. Or the endless push-ups that made me wish I could call in my childhood horse for a quick getaway. But through it all, those early adventures prepared me in ways I never expected teaching me resilience, creativity, and the art of befriending creatures who don't always follow the script.

Looking back, it's funny how life loops around. That little girl with her animal army might not have known it, but she was building the foundation for a life full of chaos, laughter, and a whole lot of fur. Whether I'm gentling a skittish calf with a student by my side or reminiscing about my military days, I realize that imagination isn't something we outgrow, it's the secret sauce that keeps things interesting.

So, here's a bit of advice from someone who's marched with goats and soldiers alike, never let go of that spark of imagination it's what turns ordinary days into epic quests. Think outside the box, because the world's problems need more than cookie cutter solutions they need a dash of wild creativity. And for heaven's sake, keep some animals by your side for sanity's sake. Whether it's a dog that listens (or pretends to), a cat that judges you silently, or a goat that eats your homework, furry companions have a way of grounding you while reminding you that life doesn't have to be so serious. After all, in the grand battlefield of existence, a wagging tail or a playful nudge might just be the ultimate morale booster.

Go forth, imagine boldly, and may your adventures be as furry and fun as mine!

With gratitude,