Just as we sat down for lunch this afternoon, I heard the sad little cries of a baby goat. Nothing unusual about that around here, but those cries seemed to be awfully close. Just at the moment when I was about to get up and look out the door, Sweet Pea jumped up to his window and was watching the driveway with that wide-eyed stare that cats get when they see something out of the ordinary.
And there were the goats... every single one of the neighbor's herd... in our driveway and on the grass in front of the guest cottage... munching on the lawn and trying to grab the lower branches of the small live oak trees. Give me a blessed break.
My husband and I both went outside.... I was clapping my hands as if I were a school teacher trying to get students in line... and my husband was blasting the air horn, which quickly got the attention of the goats. (The hand-clapping didn't do a thing.) Down the driveway they all went, across the road, and then the goats all lined up near the neighbor's fence as they waited their turn to squeeze themselves underneath the corner of that fence. One by one, they all got back under the fence and into their own pasture... all the while, that same neighbor's horse and his cows were standing in that pasture and watching the goats, and watching my husband and I as we looked at the goats scrambling back under that fence. Funny thing about those goats... they always seem to go back into their own pasture the same way they came out.
You would think that neighbor would just fix the damn fence. My husband looked at the space where the goats were crawling through... one or two solid cinder-blocks would fix that problem. Next time we're in Home Depot, my husband will buy one or two of those concrete blocks. If the neighbor won't fix the fence, then we'll just put up a barrier in that spot and hope the goats don't start digging out from a different place in that blasted fence.
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