Onward to the goat barn. Tinkerbelle at the door, the first one out, running to the fencing where Jack is pawing at the ground underneath the wiring. The other goats show little interest in Jack. Tinkerbelle is at the fence with Jack who is licking at her through the fencing. Much goat posturing amongst the rest of the herd. Head butting. The herd reunited has its ways of establishing who is who. Tinkerbelle and Jack are outside of this pecking order, off in their own world. I usher Mocha and FLora into Jacks world, hoping they'll get happy. It might be a while since heat cycles are 18 days apart. Oh dear....
|Mocha and Flora|
Every once in a while I long for a life where there is cement everywhere and my shoes never really get dirty. To go out into the world and wear clothing that is cute and not durable. To smell like a woman and not a male goat. To have a latte in a coffee shop with my laptop open and chic people parading through. It is a dream life of ease.
But the out of the every day quality of the wilderness keeps me riveted in place.