I was awoken at 5 o'clock this morning by the goats making such a racket (I thought a small child was being strangled!) that I rushed out in the dark with my torch to find them both suspended from the ash tree. They'd wound themselves round the tree so much that their hind legs were barely touching the ground. After I'd freed them I tied them up again under the washing line, as far away from the trees as possible.
When I returned to have a go at milking the mum later in the morning, BB's bleus (blue workmen's trousers) which had been out on the line were a foot shorter! Is there anything goats won't eat?
I gave the goat some cabbage to take its mind off the impending milking proceedings, shaved round the udder with the lady shaver, wiped its bottom with a damp sponge and applied some vaseline to the teat. The goat didn't appear to be "happily eating" as per the goat in the "Teddington Cheese Wire" and tried to head butt me in the privates. With BB holding her by the horns I gently grasped the greased appendage and started pulling but the goat went berserk and peed on me and the smell was so bad that I had to go inside and take a shower.
I think I may pass on the goats.
When I called Mini-B to say he could take them back he told me he's given me a bouc (a male goat!) by mistake. I didn't dare tell him what I'd done to it!