:: This morning when I read this article about the Congressional Cemetery in Washington, D.C., using goats to clear a field of poisonous weeds, I knew that it was going to be a good day. Is this the best idea ever?
:: Thinking about goats reminded me of a wonderful graduation party that we went to earlier this summer. The graduation girl was a graduate of a rural high school, so the party was at her parents’ house out in the country.
Many of the guests were farmers and at one point the conversation turned to goats. Show goats, to be exact. [Did you even know there was such a thing? I didn’t.]
Come to find out, 4-H kids raise and groom certain goats with the right disposition and the right looks to be show goats. These goats are somewhat pampered as I understand it. Loved by one and all. Winners of ribbons. Indulged. And kept around the farm as pets, not livestock.
An important distinction when you are an animal on a farm.
:: I have a goat necklace from Switzerland. Really. I’ve always liked goats. So when I was a girl in high school my aunt and uncle sent me a silver goat necklace purchased while vacationing in Europe. I don’t know where that necklace is now, but I’m sure that it’s around the house somewhere.
Misplaced, but not forgotten.
:: Not too far from here is a dairy that has cows as well as a few goats. Beside the goat barn is a machine that for 25¢ dispenses goat chow. [Yes, just like cat chow or monkey chow or dog chow.] One of my favorite things to do in life is to buy a handful of goat chow and feed the goats. Their little goat lips tickle the palm of your hand as they nibble. And they are always appreciative of what you have to offer them to eat.
So fun, so cute.