Goat stew is something that floats through my mind often.... on days when my two pet goats are out of control. Luckily I've managed to "train" them to not expect to be fed very early, but for some reason 9am is the time that some clock goes off and they want to be fed NOW. Veronica gets indignant, circling the house and wailing, and then starts head-butting the front door. This morning she slammed into it so hard that she forced it open, despite being locked. How reassuring. Though the only intruder I really fear are these two with the horns. They can cause all sorts of destruction in minutes, and live to do so. I have an arrangement with the FedEx guy that delivers my art supplies, where he now puts them in the back of my van with a delivered note on the gate. This was after boxes were torn open and canvases gored (seriously). Last week, however, I suspect one of the goats ate the delivery notice, so there were new paints and canvas baking inside the hot van for four days until I decided to track the shipment. As I was excitedly bringing the boxes in, Veronica slipped out the gate. So began a half hour of chasing, cajoling, and finally dragging her back by the horns. As I was getting her in the gate, Betty managed a switcheroo, and took off to trim the neighbors tree (after watching Veronica hit that buffet out of her reach). Luckily I had corn husks from dinner the night before to lure her back with. (see instagram video of this scene here: https://instagram.com/p/3MrOeZNPNP/?taken-by=ranchokelly )
So why do I even have them? I ask myself that often. While there's days of intense frustration with them, they will then go back to being quite charming for many days - somehow, their personalities win you over. I love looking out the window to see them reclining in the shade of a tree, beards billowing in the breeze, peacefully chewing on their cud (which always has the relaxed look of someone chewing gum).