Got goats?

Actually, no, we don't have goats, but it seems that at least once a week I am out there on the road chasing the neighbor's goats. Give me a blessed break.

Three days in a row this week, all of the neighbor's goats have either jumped over his fences or crawled underneath them. And where do they end up? On our property, munching on the tall grass or making their way towards our pond. Yesterday, two of the larger goats were up on their hind legs underneath our Live Oak trees, happily munching on the lower branches.

Out I went yesterday and the day before, armed with the air-horn. The goats absolutely hate the sound of that thing, and so do I. But it works. And it beats having to take my car out of the garage to start the goat-convoy going back down the hill and up to the neighbor's property. Just one blast of that air-horn and the goats retreat back down towards their own property.  (They know where they live... why don't they just stay over there?)

This afternoon, I was reading in the breakfast room and heard the unmistakable sound of the neighbor's muffler-less truck coming up our road. I looked out the kitchen window, and there were his goats, grazing in the tall grasses along the side of our road. Being that the neighbor was out there, I didn't even go outside to the porch..... let him take care of his own damn goats for a change.

And that's what the neighbor did, along with the help of a black and white straggly-looking dog. Heaven help that dog..... when the neighbor gets tired of him, the dog will disappear, which has happened to quite a few of his dogs since we've been here. (The goats disappear also, onto his dinner plate, but I've no idea what he does with the dogs, nor do I want to know.)