the goats decided that they wanted to go into the big paddock with the miniature horses and donkeys and thought that it would be even more fun to jump on their backs…
They have become surfaces.
black—betty, look! :D
My favourite memory of goats wot I have known is Rosie, just outside Peterborough.
Her owners had retired from full-time farming, but kept a couple of acres and Mrs B finally had the old-school farmyard she’d wondered about. Chickens and ducks for family eggs and meat, a goat who she milked (Rosie), and her husband still went out to help*cough*lecture their son, who had taken over the farm.
I had Peggy (horse) tied up to a fence while I groomed her. I went to get her tack and turned around to discover Rosie gently nibbling Peggy’s nose and Pegs loved it.
Shortly afterwards, Mr B pulled his Landie around, complete with sheepdog. Rosie promptly abandoned Peggy in favour of bouncing up on to the bonnet to taunt the collie.
Funniest thing ever.