Gazelle

Most of you already know that each animal on the farm (any farm) has their own distinct personality.  Yesterday, I decided it was time to showcase Gazelle, who has recently become the Belle of the Barn.

Nosy

Last year was Gazelle's first freshening.  I recall carrying her, trembling, to the milk stand, where she'd barely tolerate the process.  She had to be lifted onto the stand for weeks after that, afraid to jump up, afraid of any different sounds; just afraid.  She was a small, trembling bunch of nerves, for no reason other than it was in her nature; being born and raised on the farm, she has never encountered abuse or neglect.  She was just wired that way. 

So, I began a season of psychotherapy for Gazelle.  I told her how good she was, how smart and beautiful.  I rewarded her efforts with handfuls of sweet feed, and laid my hands on her whenever she was in the stand.  I stroked both her body and her ego (if you have to ask if goats have egos, you don't know goats), and as the season grew warmer, so did her spirit.  Though she was never queen material, being a diminutive goat, Gazelle was beautiful, and soon lost her fear.

Then winter came, and with it, the long gestational wait.  Gazelle ripened with the rest of the girls, and gave birth to twins in March. Big, hungry twins.  She was relieved at weaning time, like most of the mommas.  And milking time began again.

Miss Gazelle is now the Lolita of the Lower Barn.  She bats her eyes at you, nuzzles your ears, kisses your lips.  She gazes into your eyes, hypnotically implanting that one thought, paramount on her mind: "GRAIN...GIVE ME GRAIN".  She has been called "the best goat", "my favorite goat", "a sweet goat", etc., by everyone who encounters her.  I believe it's her own psychic ability, recently developed, which she has learned how to focus on her minions (us).  See for yourself:

GIVE...ME...GRAIN...(You're getting SLEEPY; SLEEPY...)

Just look at that face.  Don't you just want to plant one on those fuzzy lips?  I often do, and Gazelle often kisses back.  And then, of course...I give her grain.

Who could resist?