Astor was still alive this morning when I went out to do chores. By the lack-of-evidence (no skid marks), he had *stood up* to move under the hayrick where I found him this morning. He fought his goop and his water doses, and then was reasonably interested in his llama-and-goat-grain bowl. By the lack-of-evidence (no fly-infested cow pies), he is still digesting correctly. Just in case, I mixed a little ProBios into his morning goop dose.
I got a very funny and politically risque note of sympathy from someone about my goats this morning. It had to do with goats trying to join the Klan.