I made a discovery yesterday that totally put me off posting. Because I just didn’t want to write about it. But. Here it is. Yesterday, I found my darling little Bunny crushed in the straw in the barn stall where I keep the mommies and babies. I don’t need a hidden camera to know what happened. Nutmeg slept on her. Goats are clumpers.
A couple of years ago, I had a baby crushed inside a dog house that was inside the goat house at Stringtown Rising. Some of you reading now may remember that and how a rather nasty reader attacked me repeatedly in the comments when I posted about it, telling me that I had no business trying to run a farm and that I should have had the goats in a proper barn. My response to that was that goats are clumpers.
Well. I had them in a barn. I had two mother goats with their babies in a proper barn, inside a HUGE stall that is probably 15 x 20. No dog house inside the stall or any other kind of obstacle. IT STILL HAPPENED. I couldn’t eliminate this risk if I put them in a football stadium. Goats are clumpers.
I wanted to keep this little baby so much. Bad word. Bad word. BAD WORD.