Goats, gripes, and grasping for greatness

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.

I have a contact who knows a 4-H'er who may be getting rid of a small flock of Hog Island sheep, the same sheep you can visit in Williamsburg. Is anyone interested? This is a breed which is still listed as "critical" (less than 200 sheep) on the American Livestock Breeds Conservancy list.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hog_Island_sheep

I took out a small bowl of llama chow and alfalfa pellets to tempt Astor's appetite and keep working on regaining some of the weight he lost. That was apparently a good enough offering this time for Astor to stand up to eat. He also urinated correctly, thereby proving his hydration level. He topped off his performance by slurping water straight from the bucket, while still standing. Hope is such a painful emotion.