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They’re in.

They’re out.

It’s been a battle of wills and fencing lately.
Nutmeg is the most persistent.

She knows what she wants and she doesn’t let anything stand in her way. Particularly welded wire.

She’s really just a wee thing.

Not much bigger than a medium-sized dog.
Boomer’s not sure what to make of her when she comes to the porch. Maybe she wants to play?

He doesn’t understand this head-butting game she likes.

Maybe Nutmeg would like to wrestle?

Please?

Silly dog.
You know she came up here to POOP.

Nutmeg: “I’ll trade ya for some cookies.”

Boomer: “I was gonna take a nap there.”

Don’t worry, Boom Boom. I’ve got this whole thing under control.

Or not…….
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"It was a cold wintry day when I brought my children to live in rural West Virginia. The farmhouse was one hundred years old, there was already snow on the ground, and the heat was sparse-—as was the insulation. The floors weren’t even, either. My then-twelve-year-old son walked in the door and said, “You’ve brought us to this slanted little house to die." Keep reading our story....
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a piece of wood and a couple of old tires. They loved hearing the poop clatter onto the slide and the bucket at the end made collecting
the goodies for the garden a breeze. His goats stood in line for turns to poop down the slide. It was hilarious. Maybe 52 could rig one up for Nutmeg.
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Sure make cute porch ornaments though. (Nutmeg not the poop.)
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Suzanne, how long does it take you each day to feed all the critters?
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We use cattle paneling to keep our goats in. Of course, it only works well with BIG goats!
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How could you. You knew I was a puzzle nut. And yet you printed a link to send me into a wold of puzzles from which I cannot escape. Please help me, I can’t help myself. It is now on my favorites and I may never get back. Not til I do them all. Ah…………….
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