Bad Apples

Whenever I step into the pasture I’m mobbed with goats.  They all crowd around me, hoping I’ve brought them a treat.

So when I need to catch one, to trim her hooves or to give her a copper bollus, it’s normally not a problem. I just reach into the mob around me and pick out the one I want.

I say “normally” because we have a few goats who choose to make it difficult.  For whatever reason, they’ve never become tame and catching them is next to impossible.

Emmylou is one of the miscreants.  It’s her turn to get a copper supplement and she’s having none of it.

Emmylou, fleeing in terror at the sight of me.

Emmylou, fleeing in terror at the sight of me.

I do these tasks in numerical order, according to their ear tags.  That’s the way my brain works and that way I’m not likely to miss anyone.  So when a goat like Emmylou comes up (she’s number 48) my system bottlenecks.  Lucinda and Jennifer, who are up next and would be no trouble to catch, can’t get their copper until I catch Emmylou.  And who knows when that will happen.

By the way, that’s her kid Aretha running away with her; learning bad habits from her mother.

So why not just skip Emmylou and move on? Because I’m on number 48.  And I just can’t bring myself to do them out of order.  Is there a medicine I can take for that?

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