Ok Crumpet lives by herself in the horse pasture now. She has a secret squeeze hole no one else can get through and she squeezed through and now she lives under one of the cable spools, like a little troll.
The tips are the farmer actually lets Crumpet inside the feed chute to clean up any spilled grain after the fat girl feeding. So really that is nine meals a day. I know what you are thinking: has she gotten any bigger. Well maybe half an inch.
Anyway Wronny had her triplets and Binky had her twins and Jessie had a little single and then Sandy had a single and then Bing had twins and so did Blue Jaye and the farmer went to let some of the babies out for the first time because the babies like to go outside and eat some dirt as soon as possible, I don't know why, it probably puts some good local germs in their stomachs and it was decided that the big babies would go out.
So out went Wronny and Binky and Jessie and their kids. Now since time began the kids go out and if it is a warm day eventually they go under the porch of the cottage to take a nap where it is cool and safe. And that's what happened.
All the babies eventually toddled off under the porch and went to sleep. An hour clicked by and they started coming back out for a milk refill. Fredwina and Doxie and Ramona bunny-hopped out. Jessie's little son came out about twenty minutes later.
Another hour went by and Binky started giving her donkey bray of alarm. This is similar to her donkey bray of comprehension only much louder and filled with gloom and horror.
The farmer did not notice. The farmer was preoccupied because Crumpet had been running in and out everywhere, step-dancing on the hayloft stairs and t-boning Wronny's triplets because they are the only goats she has ever seen that are smaller than she is. Of course these were all hit-and-run jobs because Crumpet knows what would happen if Wronny caught her t-boning a triplet.
Binky continued her donkey bray of alarm.
"We are going to have to get a tape of that," the farmer murmured absently. "Surely there is a contest somewhere for the best end-of-the-world donkey bray of alarm."
The farmer did some chores and pottered about mislaying things and forgetting to fill the water and getting the feed buckets ready.
Binky took her donkey bray of alarm up a notch. It sounded like the last call for the lifeboats on the Titanic.
"That is really something," said the farmer. By this time everyone had had dinner and was put to bed, with Crumpet back under her spool and darkness falling. Wronny was tucked in with her triplets, and Jessie's little son was asleep under the hay feeder. Binky stood at the gate braying desperately.
"You are really upset about something aren't you Binky," said the farmer, patting Binky.
"I know there is a lot going on for you," said the farmer, using techniques learned at middle management school.
Binky did not go to middle management school and she was not placated. She bellowed hoarsely.
"Well, good night everybody," said the farmer, and turned off the lights.
~~~to be continued ~~~~~