I like goats - but they are seemingly escape artists. I watched a programme once, years ago, about people moving to live in the country. They guy seemed to spend most of his day catching wandering goats and trying to build fences that they couldn't escape from. The goats always won.
We used to have goats - I remember a lovely Nubian called Sheena and a very bad-tempered one called N****r (can't say that word any more).
My bro had eczema and goats' milk was reckoned to be good. I HATED it, wouldn't have it, but his eczema disappeared.
I went to a place called White Post farm just outside Nottingham once when I was visiting my brother. There were goats everywhere - and they weren't very patient when it came to food. They were pretty noisy too. They are pretty intelligent but as I live in a flat they might not be too happy. :-)
I like goats - but they are seemingly escape artists. I watched a programme once, years ago, about people moving to live in the country. They guy seemed to spend most of his day catching wandering goats and trying to build fences that they couldn't escape from. The goats always won.
Dunnit, wolf.
You're right about escape artists - we used to 'fank' them - put a lightweight triangular contraption around the neck that stopped them from getting through hedges. They could climb though...
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