The saga continues, goats, when they are due to give birth, get very vocal, speaking to the kids inside, probably telling them its not such a bad world after all. They rub their sides, as above, ooze gunk from their naughty bits, have udders the size of small Zeppelins and go all starry eyed. They also seek high energy foods rather than their normal forage.
Now ours are doing all this, and have done so whilst watched for the last three nights. I am beginning to suspect that as soon as I return to the cottage they get the cards out and play a few hands until they hear me approaching when they begin the we are about to give birth charade another go.
I did discover another rule of smallholding this evening though whilst watching the latest installment of we are pregnant honest. In order to raise my morale and energy levels I opted for a chunk of chocolate from a bar I have been carrying around in Rene's door pocket for a few thousand miles. As I absentmindedly unwrapped my Dairy Crunch there was a loud bang as June collided with the bottom half of the stable door. She used this as a launching pad to place her front hooves on my shoulders so she could look me straight in the eye. Before I could defend myself she bit my chin causing yours truly to automatically go "Argh" which was closely followed by a louder, though muffled, "Urgh!" as June French Kissed me robbing me of my chocolate treat. I reeled away from the chocolate thief and desperately spat away an unappetising mix of milk chocolate, crisped rice and goat bogie's as she calmly munched on the remaining chocolate pieces abandoned on the hay bedding.
Lessons learned.
Never eat chocolate bars in front of goats.
Also.
Goats are rubbish kissers.
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