Someone definitely mixed some cat-psycho into my goats this weekend. I got out to feed the boys on Saturday to discover that someone had scalped Cookie's tail. The fluffy end of his tail - including the attaching skin - had been torn off of at the tip. OWIE! And now I know what a goat-tail really looks like under all that hair. Ick. Besides not liking me messing with it or him, Cookie doesn't seem to be too worried about it, and I can't figure out what happened, either. The scalping was fresh when we got out to the fields, but didn't bleed much. ::shrug:: We'll see how it grows back.
I really wonder about having goats sometimes...
Up front, I took down two large sections of fence so that all of the girls are mingling now. The two sections that I opened up are directly in front of the barn and down the front section about halfway. This was obviously the invitation for the Indy 500/cat-crazy stampede practice, goat-style. For about a half an hour, the goats were thundering back and forth and around and about all over the front field. And it wasn't that they were chasing any one goat or another. They were just pronging like little antelope, leaping and bouncing and carrying on with joy of being themselves.
I really like having goats sometimes.