We scraped the goat barn out a few days ago.
While Bob, my husband, ran the tractor over the barn floor, I supervised. The goats follow us wherever we go. They don’t like the tractor much, but a few still hang around inside the barn while the tractor is working, as long as I am still in place.
The process reminded me of why I love the goats.
Iris stood beside me through the entire job. Sometimes she rubbed her head on my hands, my legs, my hips. At other times she watched the tractor. She never missed a move. It was quite interesting watching her watch the process. She was both full of intent and she was content.
I sat down on a pallet to rest my legs. Along came more girls. One of the nubian does nibbled on my nose, my chin, my cheeks. She hummed as she showered me with attention. It was hard to not wipe off my cheeks and chin, to make her move away. The love was very special coming from her, she was off her feet for two weeks last month. We nearly lost her. I now call her my “miracle child.”
When I have days like the barn cleaning day I am reminded that the small things in life are precious. The love of goats is too.
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