He took the job out of desperation. He needed the money. His wife was at him day and night to get off his arse and find a job. The kids needed food and clothing.
So, goat shepherd was what he found. Twenty goats on top of Sea Shepherd’s Bluff was his task. On top of the bluff, the grasses grew well. They were rich and succulent the only danger was the occasional goat stepping too close and tumbling over the edge.
It was tiring work, he was constantly on edge worrying over any goat who ventured close to the Bluff’s edge. Once they went over, there was no coming back.
All was going well on his first day until some idiot came along blowing on a pipe. Behind him were a stream of rats mesmerised by the music.
As he approached the goats lifted their heads, and they too were caught up in the rhythms the man was playing. He walked to the edge of the Bluff and played a cool jazz beat as the rats plunged off the edge and into the turbulent sea below.
The goats caught up in the music followed suit.
When the last goat disappeared into the swirling sea the two men stood there, one looking pleased with himself the other horrified.
Realising his music had gone beyond what it was intended for the piper turned to his horrified companion and said, “Oops, sorry about that.”