goats? you mean the capricious children?
Well and this evening I thought I'd take Maple and Willow, the two goats, out for a stroll. They're getting better about following you, especially if you're the only human in the vicinity, and especially if you're patient. And they do so enjoy being out and about. I'd taken them out earlier, when we were working in the garden, and they were very good. They may've clambered on the compost pile, and on the solar-powered battery for the drip-line pump, but for the most part they browsed the weeds and willows that surround the garden fences.
This evening, the chickens were out. I thought to myself, Well, as long as I steer them generally away from the chicken coop, we should be fine. That lasted for all of ten minutes.
Willow, trotting suddenly: Aha! The gate is open! Tasty food is mine!
And before I could stop her, she'd darted inside the chicken run, and into the coop. The chickens' feeder is inside the coop, you see. Now, when you picture this, do not assume I'd been dumb enough to let the People Door to the coop open. Nope - Willow crawled in through the Wee Door, which is all of 15 inches high - a perfect height for chickens, and for adolescent, determined goats.
Chickens from within the coop: AIEEEEEE!!! WHAT THE HELL IS THIS MONSTER! OH MY GOD WE'RE GOING TO DIIIIIIIIE!!!!
Maple, now in the run, sniffing at the Wee Door: Hey Willow, where'd you go? Can I get in there, too?
Carrie: No you may not!
I hauled her back outside the chicken run, and closed the gate, much to her distress.
Willow, inside the coop: NOM NOM NOM NOM NOM
Chickens: MONSTER MONSTER MONSTER AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!
Finally the chickens mustered up the intelligence courage to exit their coop, popping out of the Wee Door and shaking themselves. They then clucked irritably at me: Human. What are you standing there for? Remove that beast at once.
Assured that the chickens would survive, I exited the run, and had to fend off Maple as I walked over to enter the coop through the People Door.
Maple: Oh is it my turn? Is this where we go in? I can come too right?
Me: Get back!
Willow: NOM NOM NOM NOM NOM
As soon as I closed the door behind me, thus disappearing from view, Maple started shrieking WHERE DID YOU GO WHERE DID YOU GO I AM ALL ALONE NOOOOOOO!!!!
Willow, inhaling the chicken pellets from the feeder, didn't spare me a glance. At least, not until I yanked on her collar, spun her on her heels, and shoved her outside.
She immediately went back around to the chicken run gate -- and was peeved to find it closed fast. But, no matter - she was capering off down the hill in a matter of moments, chicken feed momentarily forgotten.
The really sad thing is that I had to do this all again fifteen minutes later. You'd think we'd've learned better. I put the goats away, after that. There's only so much caprine excitement me and those chickens can stand.
This evening, the chickens were out. I thought to myself, Well, as long as I steer them generally away from the chicken coop, we should be fine. That lasted for all of ten minutes.
Willow, trotting suddenly: Aha! The gate is open! Tasty food is mine!
And before I could stop her, she'd darted inside the chicken run, and into the coop. The chickens' feeder is inside the coop, you see. Now, when you picture this, do not assume I'd been dumb enough to let the People Door to the coop open. Nope - Willow crawled in through the Wee Door, which is all of 15 inches high - a perfect height for chickens, and for adolescent, determined goats.
Chickens from within the coop: AIEEEEEE!!! WHAT THE HELL IS THIS MONSTER! OH MY GOD WE'RE GOING TO DIIIIIIIIE!!!!
Maple, now in the run, sniffing at the Wee Door: Hey Willow, where'd you go? Can I get in there, too?
Carrie: No you may not!
I hauled her back outside the chicken run, and closed the gate, much to her distress.
Willow, inside the coop: NOM NOM NOM NOM NOM
Chickens: MONSTER MONSTER MONSTER AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!
Finally the chickens mustered up the intelligence courage to exit their coop, popping out of the Wee Door and shaking themselves. They then clucked irritably at me: Human. What are you standing there for? Remove that beast at once.
Assured that the chickens would survive, I exited the run, and had to fend off Maple as I walked over to enter the coop through the People Door.
Maple: Oh is it my turn? Is this where we go in? I can come too right?
Me: Get back!
Willow: NOM NOM NOM NOM NOM
As soon as I closed the door behind me, thus disappearing from view, Maple started shrieking WHERE DID YOU GO WHERE DID YOU GO I AM ALL ALONE NOOOOOOO!!!!
Willow, inhaling the chicken pellets from the feeder, didn't spare me a glance. At least, not until I yanked on her collar, spun her on her heels, and shoved her outside.
She immediately went back around to the chicken run gate -- and was peeved to find it closed fast. But, no matter - she was capering off down the hill in a matter of moments, chicken feed momentarily forgotten.
The really sad thing is that I had to do this all again fifteen minutes later. You'd think we'd've learned better. I put the goats away, after that. There's only so much caprine excitement me and those chickens can stand.