I went outside earlier to take pictures of baby goats. We have six of them now, five bucks and a doe. As I was standing outside of Bernadette’s and Maude’s pen, trying to get clear shots of their babies, something came flying out of the air at me.
It was Samuel, a baby mini-mancha. He was out of his pen, running free. And jumping. Always jumping.
I heard him hit the ground before I saw him. Wherever he jumped from, he made quite a thud when he landed. Probably he just jumped from around the corner of the barn–but I wouldn’t be shocked if he came flying off the roof, either.
Goats go where they want to go.
The only thing that really keeps the babies from running loose all over the yard is that they don’t want to stray too far from their mamas–and from each other. They squeeze through the fences, going from pen to pen, visiting the other goats. Fortunately, the other goats are pretty tolerant of babies. Even grumpy old Dolly, our three-legged queen, lets the babies crawl all over her. But she’ll head-butt the heck out of another adult goat.
Samuel’s mama Edith was very upset by his antics. She bellowed at him (and me) until I put him back in her pen, where he stayed for approximately two minutes before crawling through the fence to visit his big brother Ezekiel.