My goat hates me

Goats are in their own little class of livestock. They don't conform. I think the reason that their babies are called kids is because they resemble unruly human children. If they went to school, the 'kids' would be the shifty ones at the back of the class, lounging incorrectly in the seats and making paper airplanes to throw at the teachers back. The lambs would probably sit in a tidy circle at the front of the class and complete their homework on time. Goats were absent on the day that Man was given Dominion over the animals and have been scratching graffiti on the barn walls ever since.

Pickles is every inch a goat. She's rude and bossy and quick to use her pointy horns to get what she wants. No fence can hold her, no dog can rattle her and no persuasion can sway her. Being a goat also makes her charming and coquettish when she thinks I have something she needs.

I've had enough of her attempting to poke holes in the placid sheep at feeding time. I made her new quarters in the poultry barn. She needs a warmer place for winter anyways and a safe place to have her babies in the spring. She can boss the ducks to her hearts content. Being ducks, they won't notice.

The gander has an attitude to match hers. I've bought a whistle and a striped shirt. I'm prepared for a hockey brawl but it's better than having punctured sheep.