Spanning the creek on the outskirts of Koshovato was a bridge. At first there were many accidents on the approach to the bridge, Carriages or sleighs would slip on the icy stones and careen toward the creek. The town people decided to plant trees on both sides of the road to prevent accidents. This living fence was a wonderful idea. It would not need painting or repairs and it would last forever. It seemed like the perfect solution.
However, in Koshovato there were goats wandered about as dogs sometimes wander in America. They usually belonged to someone who neglected to tie them up. These goats would gnaw at the trees and damage them. It was the policeman’s job to protect this natural barrier. If the policeman knew the goat’s owner, he would bring the goat home but fine the owner. If the policeman didn’t know the owner, he would beat the goat with a stout stick to chase the goats away from the trees.
The Gubenko house was situated near this creek. One day Zeide (grandfather) Shlomo rounded his house to see the policeman beating a goat. “Stop! Stop!” he called. “Leave that poor animal alone!”
“Aha!” shouted the policeman. “Pay the five rubles and I’ll put my stick down”.
“Not a ruble!” shouted Shlomo. “It’s not my goat.”
“Then why do you care of I beat it?” shouted the policeman as he thrashed the goat across the rump.
“Get away from that dumb animal. He is one of God’s creatures and only does what goats are supposed to do”, threatened Shlomo.
By then the whole Gubenko family had gathered and stood spellbound at the sight of Shlomo fearlessly defending the goat. Now the policeman turned his anger from the goat to Shlomo. “Pay or go to jail!”
“It is not my goat. I will pay nothing,” insisted Shlomo.
Bubbie (grandmother) Tova pleased with Shlomo to apologize. She pleased with the policeman to listen. It was useless. They were like two angry bulls.
The policeman took Shlomo to jail. Thus the pious Shlomo Gubenko spent a night in jail, all because of a goat.