Northwestern Illinois –
There are days when I begin hate goats. I’ve had almost a week of those days. My herd sire, big as he is, is an escape artist. Most goats are tricky that way but this guy takes the cake. My rutting lot looks like an internment camp and still he gets out. I’ve locked him in the barn for the next 2 1/2 weeks and yet he tortures me by doing things like turning the well pump on. How on Earth he managed that I have no idea but it’s a lucky thing that the jr buck got his head stuck in the fence yet again yesterday or we’d have flooded the entire pasture with the water pouring out of my barn.
The jr buck escaped the rutting lot late yesterday afternoon leaving a pathetic, crying wether in there by himself while Hiram, the jr, was out trying to romance two does in heat. Iwas dressed up to go out and had to run down, haul a stinky, uncooperative buck up to the barn where I locked him in too, hoping the herd sire wouldn’t beat him half to death. I discovered this morning, that he’d escaped from there too.
I’m desperately trying to not to have kids in February because it’s damned cold and unpleasant in February and I’d prefer to sleep through it in my bed rather than in the barn decked out like the Stay-Puft Marshmallow man. Unfortunately, I think they’ve foiled that plan as I found one of the hussy does in the barn with the herd sire earlier today. How she managed that, I have no clue but she did.
If I can keep my sanity (and fences) intact for about two more weeks, I’ll be good but I’m afraid they may be smarter than I am right now and it’s making me crave goat stew.