Something else annoying happened today. I was running to help the farmer put the grain in the buckets when suddenly I was trapped in the swing gate. Every time before this I was able to squeeze right through the gap at the end but this time for some reason I stuck fast. Obviously someone must have come into the barn at night and shortened the gap. Possibly some type of intruder architect or carpenter.
"It looks like you are stuck, Millie," the farmer pointed out helpfully.
The farmer started filling all the grain buckets without me.
"I guess you won't get any grain, Millie," the farmer said. I thought it was a very sad and tragic thing, but the farmer sounded quite chipper. I only gave one little whimper; I am a very stoic goat.
But then the farmer said, "Come on, Melody, you can help me fill the grain buckets."
And the new goat went scampering to help in a very brown-nosed fashion. So then I started bawling. Louder even than Walker the Talker. No justice, no peace.
Diary of a Dairy Goat. This blog is the diary of one goat, Baby Belle, a Nigerian Dwarf who lives on a small dairy farm in Western Washington.