Wrangling crazy goats all day leaves little time for such frivolities as watching television, but I will confess that this spring my family has become addicted to the TV series "Prison Break," the saga of brilliant engineer Michael Scofield and his quest to rescue his wrongly-imprisoned brother Lincoln from Illinois' Fox River Penitentiary. Planning the escape, Michael has Fox River blueprints and other secret codes tattooed over most of his body. With only two episodes left to watch in season 4 ("The Final Season"), we are desperate to discover the conclusion to this rather fantastic tale. I have learned so much about the correctional system...
Emerson and Ellie are a bit like the Fox River brothers. Em is definitely the Michael-personality, wily and sneaky, always alert to any possible escape route. Sweet Ellie has Lincoln's larger size; he is the braun to Michael's brain, often just wandering around the yard looking lost. "Why am I standing here, brother?" No question they'll butt heads over that last mouthful of hay, but any stressful event (thunderstorm, scary bumblebee) sends them huddling together to comfort each other. Fortunately, they don't coordinate their escape attempts as well as the TV brothers...
Last week I was pulling weeds when I noticed a small black and white calf grazing in our lower field. How odd! We do see our share of feral cats, and once a stray emu, but never before has a calf strayed this far. In the goat pen Emerson was going crazy, throwing himself against the fence and crying to...oh no - is that Elliot down there? How did he ever get out of the pen? When? I quickly scanned the gates - all securely closed - and only after I got a leash and hauled him back into the yard was the mystery solved. He gave himself away by running right for the narrow gap where he had apparently wedged apart two sections of fencing. Lucky for me he hadn't shared his escape route with his brother - they'd be halfway to Mexico by now.
Just like you can break out of places, you can also break in. This morning the goats were having breakfast on the back deck while I put away some laundry. When I came back into the kitchen, I was shocked to see Emerson standing in the dining room, calmly looking around, no doubt deciding what to chew on first. Apparently he had rubbed open the screen door (a fact I surmised by the clumps of black goat hair caught in the screen) and let himself in. Oblivious to the open door, Elliot was still munching away at his bin of hay on the deck.
Imagine the disaster if they started working together! I did check them very carefully for any evidence of tattoos...maybe I'll have my husband investigate for tunnels uunder the goat shed. On the other hand, maybe I'll "accidently" leave a shovel lying around...Dig, goats, dig to freedom! Here's a treasure map for a million pounds of sunflower seeds... Some days it's tempting!
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