Today when Seth and I came in to feed the ungrateful and extremely piggy animals, the goats had gotten out. They'd broken through some weak boards on the left side of their stall, and the entire (and considerable) floor was covered in droppings. While Seth swept up the mess, I rinsed all three water buckets, gave them feed, (even though the goats had been in both the feed and the hay) and then caught both the alpacas by myself. The wind outside was so cold I thought my hands were going to drop off while I was getting the water. (Can you relate? :0) I called Dad on the radio to tell him of the goats' escape, and he came by to fix the stall, while I was catching the alpacas . And while he was doing that, Seth and I took the goats (Thelma and Louise) for their daily walk in the paddock thing outside their stalls.
Then we (or maybe it was just me) decided that racing them was a good idea.
Man alive, can goats ever leg it! (Heehee)
Anyway, they nearly pulled us down a few times, and I'm sure Frankie and Deano (you know what, I'm just going to call them Frank and Dean) wondered if we'd lost our minds. (They were out in a stall that Dad had made bigger by opening up at least two beside the original.)
I think Louise has forgiven me a little for not taking off her halter. For the whole day after Dad put it on, she kept staring at me like, "I can't believe you're letting me go through this."
Whatever. Who cares what a goat thinks, anyway?
~C.R.
P.S. Tomorrow we get llamas. O JOY.
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