Goats?
Miniature goats have taken up residence with us. Tawny and white, black and white, black and brown. They live on the side yard, fenced in by chicken wire. They run free inside the fence. There are two does, one buck, and three young ones, one of whom is nursing. All, a mystery to me. When they see us in the yard, the screaming begins. So equal. So individual. It’s every goat for him- or herself. Each one wants to be high on the mountain of hay, at the top on stumps, high on