Well my grandson Peanut went to his new home and I am not surprised to learn that he has already taken up pen and ink to begin his literary career. You can read Peanut's first musings here. He is living with a goat philosopher named Marigold and a sleuthing fainting goat named Watson, so hopefully he won't get too smart for his own good. There is a full-blown Nubian there, though, so that should bring the I.Q. level back down toward the mean.
Meanwhile, Peanut's mother Hannah Belle (aka Lecter) has returned to her willful ways and is now spending part of every day inside the horse trailer. According to the farmer, she is "thinking about what she did" in there, but as far as I can tell she is catching up on her naps and enjoying some very pleasant alone time.
Because thinking is not something she does in order to make herself a better goat. Thinking is something she does in order to figure out new ways to get into the grain room. So far she has thought up about seven hundred ways to do that. Her little anarchist daughter Boxcar Betty has taken to following her around on some of her excursions, too.
Wendell the boston terrier pest had been lying around in a sleep coma recovering from the departure of his friend Max until today. Today he unfortunately started feeling better and chased Boxcar Betty all around the pasture until he got a good yelling-at from the farmer.
On another matter, Winnie came back into the big milker pasture acting all high and mighty. That lasted about 15 seconds until she got taken down several pegs by an unlikely gang-up consortium of Boo the Ocean Liner Nubian, Scouty the Winnebago Nubian, and little modest yearling milker Ronny, who is actually Winnie's sister. Together they showed Winnie who was not boss.
Then the three of them shook hands, gave each other courtesy head bumps, and went back about their business - hogging as much food as possible.