It is a fact that goats are hard to keep in. I've often thought it would be far easier to fence them out of the yard and garden than to fence them into the pasture and paddock, but I suspect they'd decide that the other side of the fence was still worth investigating.
This time of year, after all growing things have either been eaten by one of the goats' forays or simply harvested in the normal rhythm of farm life, I don't get too upset when they escape from the pasture. In fact, I expect it, because I stop trimming the fence line and the temporary electric fence gets put away, and the goats wander over to the brush and forage and then around to the road and finally into the yard.
What I don't understand, and will probably never understand, is why, since they know exactly how to get out, they can't figure out how to get back in. Or is it just that they consider me their goat slave?
|The usual suspects|
|Back to the barn to confer|
|The grass really is greener just outside the house|
|A quick look in the dog yard. Zoë was looking back at him.|
|but Fiore is watching me in the doorway and is heading up the stairs to check out the camera.|
|I think I'm being paged.|
|I've opened the gate...|
|...and in they all go|
|After a few minutes, it's time to do it all over again.|