It Has Come To This

Nellie has not been herself latelty. Day in and day out, Farmer H finds her standing with her head stuck in the fence. Presumably, waiting to die. I call it a cry for help. The Pony tries to untangle her when he can, but Nellie seems heck-bent on doing herself in.

She was a woman's pet before Farmer H got his grimy hands on her. He bought her at the animal auction one Sunday, before the county closed it down. Seems that a full-time veterinarian must be on site if animal exchanges are to take place. Just to make sure no animals are harmed during bargaining. You know, so that Chinese woman that Farmer H befriended doesn't buy a lame duck to take home to eat.

Instead of living out her days as a pampered backyard companion, Nellie was turned in with Farmer H's other goats. They were animals, really. Always jumping up on top of the truck if they got loose, and butting heads, and standing on their hind legs to beg for corn when people walked by the pen. Not to mention that old goat that forced himself on Nellie, giving her twins. The black twin died shortly after birth, which may have sent Nellie spiraling into postpartum depression.

Nellie has always been a quiet sort, her long white hair never out of place, her blue eyes mocking the amber ones of the common goats. With no outlet, it was bound to come to this. Nellie has no one to tell her problems to. She can not write poetry. She has no gas oven. So every day, she wedges her head into the fence that was made to house hogs. A fence that is not goat-friendly, but which does not wreak havoc with the other goats' horns. Their horns curve way backwards, not out. They can finesse their way out of the fence if need be. Not Nellie.

Thank the Gummi Mary, I talked Farmer H out of his plan to saw off Nellie's horns last summer. That could lead to pain and blood loss. News to Farmer H. Who only recently discovered that goats are herd animals, you know.

I am not overly optimistic about this solution. Is it just me, or does that tape look a little loose? What's to keep the other goats from eating it off Nellie's head? They finished my rose bushes last month. And today they were working on the yuccas. Any new treat is irresistible to them.

We have enough acreage to let the goats run free. However, they scoff at property lines. And don't understand that porches are for people. And chickens.

Poor Nellie. I hope she's never read Black Beauty.