Tuesday, 15 July 2008

The only good goat is a curried goat!

Geisha and Maggie are trouble. When they didn't like each other they were a nuisance, now they have formed a bond they goad each other on to create mischief. Geisha the ninja goat is chief nuisance at the moment. Sunday she slid off the cliff into the garden and wrecked every ones siesta. Monday evening she used her ninja powers to get into the house through the front door while three adults were using it. Somehow she managed to slip through completely unnoticed and started to eat a vase of flowers off the mantelpiece in the living room. I just made it across the room in time to prevent a disaster by catching the priceless glass Ikea vase as it dropped towards the hearth.

Suitably chastised Geisha stood on the low wall outside the front door watching us watching her. She obviously plotted revenge because sometime later I could just make out the top of her head as she crept past the front window. Now I don't watch much TV, but I do like the news, somehow Geisha has worked out that the weak point in our already weak TV signal was the connector on the cable just by the front door. By chewing and tugging at it she she can alter the picture radically and get an instant response from her long suffering human. Usually a swift one containing words of four letters punctuated by a volley of wellington boots.

Late last night we knew we were set for an interesting time with her. She had managed to get over the fence into our neighbours field along the front of our cottage. No real problem as she was accompanied by Katy and Daffodil who are prone to launching raids on next doors grass. The difference being that the smart lambs can work out how to get back to the safety of the step to nowhere in front of the stable. Geisha spent a happy few hours munching nettles, she refuses to eat ours but The Oracles nettles are delicious, so after clearing his weeds she suddenly found herself alone, in the dark. She did what any self respecting goat would do when finding itself in such a situation, she freaked out and cried like a baby. Luckily for her she did not rouse her exhausted humans who had stockpiled the wellingtons for such an eventuality.

Sometime in the night she set out to explore the strange dark world of the open field, and several fences later found a flock of sheep, which for safety's sake she gathered around her like a giant protective mutton barrier. Any predator would have to be very hungry to get to her.

Come morning time we found her missing from the step so set out to find her. There she was, a lone brown speck in a confused white sea of wool. I shouted. She bleated. I shouted louder. Her volume increased as well. I started the great trek across to her, her bleat changed to one of relief once she saw me to one of joy when she saw I was carrying a bottle of milk. Overcome with emotion she ran towards me her ears flapping uselessly either side of her head. The sheep suddenly free from their goat tormentor and bewildered at the sight of a man crossing the grass carrying milk for an adult goat turned and fled in the opposite direction. Instinct took over and Geisha turned and joined the sheep stampede having succumbed to flight aspect of the fight or flight response. As she ran away it dawned on her that unlike her woolly prisoners she had no need to be scared and rather sheepishly for a goat turned on her hooves and galloped over to breakfast. A few reassuring gulps of milk later she began the long walk back with me to Rock HQ where she was reunited with Maggie and no doubt spent the day plotting further mayhem.

People ask if it takes a lot of time feeding and sorting out the animals in the morning, you must get up really early they insist. On a good day Tracey and I can sort all the stock out in fifteen minutes. When you have goats you can add two hours to that.

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