the calling of the goat

I've had questions in the past: "Are you really a goat herderess?"

Yes of course I am a goat herderess! And to show you what fuzzy bounty I am in charge of: viola the evidence my friends. See it and weep with delight. They exist. they are awesome. (Oh and they don't faint, these are mostly Saanen like, they're not the falling down kind. I mean come on!)

They LOVE silver-beet, it's goatie gold, green gold..... yummersssss

Did I mention they are accompanied by Bella, a highland calf who thinks she is a goat... and her brother Kuddles who knows for certain that he is not. But he thinks the white mob is friggin funny.

This outrageous fashionable wonder above is called Teresa (coincidently also the name of our fabulous Canadian cousin). She is half Angoran and proud of it. Fuzz rules amigos.

The plan is to start milking the girls next year and yours truly is still on the look out for a milking machine and storing tanks. It will happen! So there you are: they're real and they kick ass. Not literally though, they rather eat hay and snooze. Or play. And eat silver-beet.