Life is slowly getting back to normal on our little ranch after the tragedy of three weeks ago. Our mistress, or Lovey as the litte cat Chewbakka calls her, now pens us up every night for safety’s sake. The Border Collies, Barkley and Rio, and she patrol the fence on a regular basis, checking for holes where the coyotes might get through. I can feel the sadness in her heart when she feeds us in the evening, lingering in the pen with us. I know her thoughts are still with PeeWee and Pongo. I miss them also.
I have included a picture of myself so you would know what I look like. Words can only descibe so much. As you can see there are many spots on my coat, hence my name Manyspots. I am also the only goat with horns, my brother Michael having been born without horns (what is referred to as “polled”) and Uncle Barnaby having been disbudded when he was two weeks old. This due to Show Ring regulations that require all show wethers to be hornless. He won a 2nd and a 3rd place at a couple of local fairs when he was a year old. Lovey then turned him loose with Pongo, who had won a 1st and a 2nd at the same fairs, and Ping, another goat who died before I came to live on the ranch. Together Uncle Barnaby and Uncle Pongo grew up together with Ping who was a year older than they. He had also been a prize winning wether. Lovey no longer shows goats, but she likes to have us around because we keep the fences clean of weeds, and the trees trimmed up. “We are ze gardeners of ze pasture,” PeeWee would say. I miss his sense of humor.