lollipop, lollipop...

Stupid goats.

I went into the pen to dump and rinse the watering tub, and the goats decided that they wanted to lick my legs. Their favorite spot seems to be behind the knee. They licked my belly, too. [grumble, grumble]

Maybe it's because I was sweating all day, and they wanted the salt. It's not as if they didn't have a fifty pound salt and mineral block sitting in the barn. They can use that for a lollipop, not my thighs. (Sorry about the gross visual)

Enough grumbling. Or, maybe not.

Little meat boy (the castrated kid goat) kept getting out. I finally enlisted the help of my oldest son and went around putting branches in all the places where a goat might squeeze under the fence. I used the loppers to clean the side sticks off those dead branches that I hacked off with an ax before we built the fence.

(I was trying to impress Mary with how macho I looked swinging that ax, but she just yawned. I ended up getting a pole saw after that.)

Anyhow, I had to put up with Don's whining after be bumped into the electric fence. I guess I should have thanked him for testing it for me.

OK, what he was really grumpy about was the fact that I joked about it. I pointed out to him that he doesn't need to cry about it because the hurting has already stopped. Electric shocks stop hurting as soon as you let go. Believe me, I have experience in that area.

But we did get it done. Meat boy escaped a few times while we were working, which gave us a great opportunity to see exactly where he was escaping. That place has been blocked extra well.

He hasn't gotten out since then. Yay us. We managed to outwit a stupid animal.