As I walked past the "other woman" I sensed a feeling of unrest.
I walked on up the hill to the well and choose the low road to the orchard...
I always take the lower road in the summer because there is less dry grass. Even though the weather is nice and cool this week, I never walk in the tall grass until late fall when I know that there's less chance of a Rattler lurking in the weeds.
The sky was so beautiful.
Carl, our first corgi, came to live with us while Maggie was still alive.
When she died, The Prospector buried her up here and asked me to make a sign for the site.
I turned around and started back.. When I got about two thirds of the way back to the house, I saw something long and black on the side of the trail. My heart started beating a little faster, but I was quite a distance from it and well... rattlers aren't usually that dark. I just couldn't see it clearly.
I walked down, slowly, and realized it was a feather, a huge black feather...
Oh, I'm sorry. Now, I'm the one that's venting.
When I got down to the back gate, Annie was still up on her perch. I took the feather and teased her with it.
That's when he made this face. Hilarious!
I pulled the feather away and started to leave...
So he gave me his cute goat look.
"Why did you stop?"
"Farmlady. Please keep doing that."
And he made that silly toothy smile again...
What a ham!
This morning I took an old brush out there and gave Brownie a back rub. (Yes, I'm spoiling him.) His hair is growing back and he's looking pretty darn good. He's still too skinny, but he is gaining weight and his body looks so much better. He seems to be thriving in his "last goat standing" status. I was always told that Nubians didn't like to be alone. That they need other goats. Well, this guy is just fine. He's a character. That's for sure.
I dearly miss Murphy, but Brownie is our survivor... par excellence. He is playing this solitary life for all its worth. He's still our outspoken, show pony. I'm sure there will be more stories to tell.