It was nice of Gloria not to out me as, being an experienced goat
person, I still feel like I should have headed off the goat escape had
my brain been working. OTOH, the other friend involved is the woman
who got me into goats, and she's had years and years more experience
than I have (I've only had goats since about 1990).
Oh well, I really needed the exercise provided from tramping for hours
through the forested sand dunes (yeah, I know that sounds like a
contradiction but it's a fairly accurate description -- the trails
through the forest have the consistency of beach sand and there's
cactus in them thar hills).
The goat escape has been avidly followed in two state agencies and one
K-12 school. I had to repeat the story several times when I staggered
(walking in sand alerts you to muscles you'd long since forgotten you
had) into work Wednesday morning.
Marie, now living in a rat-free environment (or at least the rats are
no longer eating the poison cubes, and I no longer hear the pitter
patter of tiny feet)
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