Yes. I said strike. I won't elaborate here, but you can email me or call. The photo below is from www.mcall.com.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtH9dlJhe0nTrQBPTRFFW-P12Uv0xJ4JeQTU9BsZiBKjeCiYIsU13BGusKRV5-W3I-c4ZyeDNB7YqBIuWMBjgMra8oFdC8sG9IBH9PqtxMoY_aCro4L3ej3HOLz19pKH_TDShNFaLXrGE/s320/strike.jpg)
Then back to the farm for some barn-therapy.
The goats are particularly capricious this week, as it's prom week on the farm (they're breeding). The boys are pushy, the girls are showing off, and everyone is fighting authority except for the class pet (Faith). It's just like school.
As I was milking tonight, the rest of the herd conspired against me, and lifted the latch on the gate. They stormed the barn. I was outnumbered, one to 12. All I could do was protect the milk and back off, then chase. It was actually really funny.
If I ever have a herd of my own, I will name the goats for people I remember from my past, and my profession.
I love these bad goats.
Will there be a Pamela?
ReplyDeleteYup...the one that rules the herd!
ReplyDelete