This Lil Nut

Jun
20

IMG_8697
Maia, following me down the driveway to check the mail with me.


This crazy little goat follows me around the farm. She stands outside the back door crying. She pushes her way into the house. She even got into the studio a few times during this past weekend’s workshops. She knows how to sneak right in on people’s heels. She lays down with the dogs and she sleeps under my chair.

I don’t know what I’m going to do with her. I guess I will just have to love her!!!

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Posted by Suzanne McMinn on June 20, 2013  

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Comments

12 Responses | RSS feed for comments on this post

  1. 6-20
    4:05
    pm

    MAAAA MAAA! :yes:

  2. 6-20
    4:48
    pm

    You built a strong bond with those bottles of water!!!

  3. 6-20
    4:49
    pm

    Well I guess you’ll just have to call her a puppy goat. She’s still magical.

  4. 6-20
    5:01
    pm

    Aha! So now you have a lil goat that thinks she’s a dog. Sweet.

  5. 6-20
    5:12
    pm

    What a little love…a sweet “kid”! You’ll have to keep her forever.

  6. 6-20
    6:28
    pm

    C’mon, Suzanne, you’ve always wanted a house goat – admit it!

  7. 6-20
    8:26
    pm

    She thinks you are her momma! Is she still getting bottles of water? She’s so cute!

  8. 6-20
    10:35
    pm

    I’m sure glad for her she is a girl. I would love to have a goat to milk that is that friendly. (Especially since I don’t have anymore dairy cows that I am milking).

  9. 6-21
    12:56
    am

    What a cutie! I think you will have to keep her for a very long time.

  10. 6-21
    10:01
    am

    Yes, love is always good. She thinks you are her mama. How sweet!

  11. 6-21
    7:46
    pm

    Methinks she is your new calendar kid, pun intended!

  12. 6-22
    6:54
    pm

    Maybe she thinks she is a dog! Just love and enjoy her, she will grow up one day, too soon.

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The Slanted Little House

"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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