I live with a bunch of crazy goats! I do not include myself in that sentence. I am not a crazy goat; I am a Happy Goat as befits the spokesgoat for Happy Goats Soap. But given the behavior of the other goats on this farm I am beginning to think it should have been called the Crazy Goats Farm. For example, yesterday when our publicist/udder massage specialist was bringing Abigail and me down from the barn to our pen Abigail decided it would be a good time to go visit the horses across the street - and off she ran. But she forgot that the driveway is a sheet of ice. Her hooves were a' moving but Abigail was not. She eventually got some traction but ended up doing a face plant and sliding a good four feet before the publicist caught up to her and got her turned around. I was trying to be a good goat and not laugh at her but it was very, very hard.
Then Michael the goat escaped from HIS pen. Again. Now that he has discovered how to get a running head of steam and leap over his fence he just keeps doing so. He is just so proud of himself! The publicist drags him back to his pen by his horns -which he doesn't like at all! I think it upsets him that she is strong enough to do it. Hee hee. This week our male person is going to buy taller fencing so that Michael will stay where he belongs - hopefully.
But the topper of the day belonged to Luke the goat. When it was time to head back up to the barn for our goat treat and a good night's sleep Luke decided he just wasn't quite ready yet. Actually Michael didn't head right up either so the publicist had her hands full of rammy goats. She went to the goat barn and got a lead, hooked Michael the goat up and took him to the barn. When Luke the goat saw her returning he climbed the mulch pile. The publicist yelled at him; told him he better not dare jump into the doe pen. But you can guess what happened. Luke leaped! He started chasing Abigail around as if his life depended on it. I just stood back while Abigail ran like the devil was chasing her. And in a way I guess he was. Again, I tried not to laugh at Abigail's predicament but it was ABIGAIL after all.....
The publicist opened our gate and I ran out. Abigail finally figured out to escape as well. Luke had the gate slammed in his little goat face. He was not happy about this at all! Abigail and I RAN to the goat barn while Luke MAAAAAAAAed like a crazy goat. The publicist got us settled and went back for Luke the goat and found him with his head stuck in the fence! He put it through were our pen meets the garden. He was trying to fit his whole little goat body through an 8" x 8" hole. Crazy goat! When the publicist went in to help him he was so focused on getting to us girls that he did not want to back out of the fence, he just wanted to go forward. It's that whole "gotta get a doe" mentality these bucks have, you know? And I thought he was in love with ME. Bucks are fickle, FICKLE!
Anyway, with much wiggling the publicist finally was able to get Luke the goat out of the fencing, hooked up to a lead and into his pen in the barn. Whew! She was exhausted! Luke the goat was, uh, frustrated.
