Since Mother Nutmeg loves her Big Macs even more than she loves her baby, there was no keeping her in the goat house. After making repairs last week, this past weekend she found a new way out. Repeated checks of the goat house revealed no escape hatch. I believe she was using her Star Trek teleportation device. So, it was in and out, in and out, because no sooner did she have her Big Mac than she wanted back in so she could brag to the other mommies about it. Or get back to Dr. Pepper. Hard to tell which. Dr. Pepper, meanwhile, would sob helplessly in the goat house over his mommy’s absence. Until she gave him his own teleportation device and he joined her at McDonald’s.
At which point, tired of the in and out, the farmer said, “FINE. YOU CAN STAY OUT.” Dr. Pepper is two months old. He’s a big boy now. This weekend, I’ll probably let everybody else out and the goat house maternity ward will return to normal business. All the goat babies (lambs, too) are for sale, if anyone is interested! (Except Dr. Pepper.)