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I love photographing my goats. They’re beautiful animals. Smart, funny, gorgeous, and sometimes a little bit crazy, they’re always happy to see me.
They come running, all a-clamor, to the gate. They can’t wait to get their hooves on me.
And I mean that. Literally.
Which is why….
….I have a thousand photos that look like this:
Because they’re always right there.
In my face.
Or on my back.
Eating me.
Eating my clothes.
Eating my hair.
I have no idea why they do this. It’s not like my hair and my clothes can even taste that good.
If for some reason one day I faint in the goat pen, I will awake bald. And naked.
Occasionally I try to get Clover to wear a hat. I put her in the milkstand.
Then I tie a hat on her head and take pictures of her. She totally loves this whole process, and it is, in large part, the foundation of our close, close relationship. I am convinced it is her very favorite thing to do, trying on caps and hats and bonnets, and even the occasional pair of boots. Her favorite thing to do with her favorite person.
“Isn’t that right, Clover?”
Clover: “Babies…..
….I want you to eat her and this time I want you to do it right….
….I want her bald and naked. AND THEN PUT A HAT ON HER.”
