Clover, meet baby.
Baby, meet Clover.
Clover: “I taste of you, my boy……”
“…..You taste like cookies and love……”
“…..My feminine center is aquiver from the combination……”
“…..You are young……”
“…..I shall bend you to my will.”
Yesterday, my friends at the goat farm brought a sweet one-week-old, blue-eyed Nigerian Dwarf buckling for a visit to see us. Since Clover didn’t end up pregnant this year, I’m already looking ahead to next year. Our own buck. A way to breed Clover and Nutmeg without sending them away from the farm. And we need a buddy for Pepsi.
I think this adorable little baby buckling is just the ticket. I sat on the porch and held him and held him and held him and Missy had to FIGHT ME TO TAKE HIM HOME. I said, YOU CAN’T TAKE ME, WOMAN. And she smacked me and stole him from my arms. Or something like that. It was messy, let me tell you.
He’s about the size of a cat. And he just rested his head on my chest and snuggled. Some day when I have goat babies of my own, that’s all I’m going to do. Sit on the porch and snuggle them. Then maybe take them inside and put baby bonnets on them and sing them nursery rhymes.
I asked Clover if she liked younger men and if maybe, just maybe, next spring when he was old enough she would let him be her boyfriend.
Clover: “He does smell like cookies. And I always wanted a boy toy.”
It’s a deal!