Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Goat Glossary

(verb, noun): to glean delicious morsels from another goat's back, to backsnack.


"I enjoyed a nice backsnack when I stood next to Jammies at the feeder. Her woolly coat is like an alfalfa lint brush."

"I couldn't backsnack because I was stuck next to Peaches, and she has no undercoat."

Saturday, March 27, 2010

Miracle Mac

If you are a person and you break your leg you have to waddle around for months with a cast. This is bad because you only have two legs. And one of them is broken. So half your legs are broken, and you were probably slow and ungainly to begin with. No offense to you, but you know what I mean.

I have seen people who were three or four or five times taller than a Nigerian, and they cannot even jump over a fence as tall as their middle. It's sad. Very sad.

Whereas Aunt Hannah Belle, who is 23 inches tall at the withers, used to be able to jump five feet before her waistline expanded. Now she can only jump four.

Anyway Mac the baby goat broke his leg ten days ago. Yesterday they took the cast off.

Fixed. One more example of goat superiority.

Without those thumbs, the people species would have died out a long time ago.

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Grass Thief

Tommy the grumpy appaloosa owns all the grass around here. In this photo Moldy hides behind a locust tree so he will not see her eating his grass.

Just looking for some missing earrings, Tommy. Pay no attention.

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Headed Out This Morning, Into the Sun

Wronny's bland babies finally got their names. There are two boys and one girl. The super sweet boy is going to be named Spud. The smart one is going to be named Ivar.

The girl had to have an A name. Every person who came said why not Annie? Or why not Ann? Or why not Anna? Anna Banana? One person said how about Anne-Marie?

Anyway her name is not going to be Ann or Anne-Marie. Her name is going to be Anastasia, like the Grand Duchess. She is very imperial.

But I guess everyone will probably just call her Annie.

Dreamboat Annie.

Ship of dreams.

Sunday, March 14, 2010

Excuse Me, Sir, Which Way to the Milk Bar?

Double Triplets

Wronny had her kids yesterday exactly by the book as usual. She had a set of triplets, just like Joy. Very boring, just like Joy's. But much bigger and louder. They've been complaining since they got here.

Wronny went right back to work on the milkstand without batting an eye.

"I would not take a thousand dollars for that doe," the farmer said, to no one in particular.

Of course that is easy to say when no one has offered a thousand dollars.

But anyway that's what the farmer said.

Tuesday, March 09, 2010

Joy Division

Joy had three triplets this morning.

There is a large one, a medium one, and a small one. They cry and they sleep and that's it.

No personality whatsoever.

My Special Day

Yesterday was warm and cold and sunny and cloudy and calm and windy and a little bit showery and then it snowed. It is hard to dress for that kind of weather.

Joy the sweetest LaMancha is as big as a house and going to kid this afternoon.

The farmer said yesterday I was going to get special attention because I haven't gotten any attention at all because everyone just pays attention to Melody's two spindly little daughters.

But then I didn't get any attention because the farmer had to go and get the grain and then unload it moaning and wheezing and grunting in a very dramatic fashion which did not draw any applause or interest from the audience.

Then the farmer got the kidding stall ready for Joy. Then Peaches started acting sick for no reason and wouldn't eat her grain so the farmer had to go and cut some branches for Peaches.

Then the farmer had to switch Tommy's blanket. What's the difference which blanket he has on? They don't have any fashion shows around here for grumpy old nags.

Oh then big surprise there was no more time for my special attention.

I don't care, why should I.

Tuesday, March 02, 2010

Captive Audience

Two More Travelers on the Oregon Trail

Moldy will be getting a little extra in her pay packet this week. She had two doelings at 3 o'clock. That's good, now she has someone to listen to all her complaints.

She is already telling them about the great utopia of Oregon where she used to live. The beautiful land of milk and honey, where candy grows on trees, and little white goats ride on satin cushions.

Speaking of little white goats I was expecting two more drab nondescript things but these are flashy, almost as colorful as me. In this case I wonder if my excellent name ideas - "Fungus" and "Mildew" - will be accepted.

Sometimes when the farmer says a suggestion is "under consideration" it doesn't necessarily mean what you think.

Oh well, once they are dry the drabness will probably set in.