Maximum security

 Stallag 14, once home to a wide variety of takeaways for Mr Fox, is a bit empty and very big. Far too big for the two surviving runner ducks donated to the cause by a follower of this blog a while ago (get well soon you know who you are!). Having a six foot six high fence all around of two inch steel mesh this seems the ideal place for long range pygmy goats who have exploited to the max the rule of smallholding that states any animal can pass through any hole half of its body size.

 The pygmy goats would be hard pressed to escape from this, although foxes have found ways in. It also has two very sturdy hen houses that will make ideal goat houses. The only drawback (actually there are two, the second will become apparent later) is that someone has to clear the decades debris (read chicken shit) from the new goat prison enclosure and then wheelbarrow two and half tons of Herefordshire gravel 50 metres from its drop off point and lay it in a four inch deep carpet. Step forward that man!

 So yours truly under the watchful eyes of vermin cats using Stan and a paw warmer began the task of transforming the mud bath into a  prison palace for goat kind.

 Thanks to my bionic left arm pushing a laden barrow uphill was no problem. Pushing 66 of them became and issue.

 The 72 or so it finally took to complete the task was in all honesty a bit wearing, but

 with the help of Spotty the action Berner is was soon done.

 They were no help, cats can't even count properly.

Anyway end of play saw drawback number two appear. How to persuade errant pygmy goats to give up their long range wanderings and stay in one place. After much swearing, climbing fences, falling in mud, arguing with stinging nettles and so on four were captured and safe inside the slammer. The other four watched from the cliff with interest. Of course my beautiful and oh so patient wife was very happy with this effort from yours truly, so happy in fact her words filled me with joy. "That's great, hows the bale store coming on?"