It was no surprise to awaken to another misty day yesterday. What's one more in a seemingly endless string? (I had four Kids in five years and it was hard to remember the breaks then, too.) I put on Wellies and rolled my pants legs up above the high-water mark to go to the barn. I'd had enough of soggy britches and sodden socks. With only three to tend, chores whizzed by. Persistent Percy or one of his well-trained cohorts kept making raids on the mice's grain and ended up dripping with sprayed milk.
Catching up on a couple more M*A*S*H reruns, Bess and I were caught unaware when the doorbell rang. Nobody rings the bell but strangers. Camille will even call from her cellphone to say she's in the driveway if she's making an unexpected visit. However, it was a welcome surprise to open the door and find find Officer Hogg from Animal Services (what an appropriate name for the job). Some time ago when I was having trouble with dogs vs. chickens, Officer Hogg was a frequent visitor. It's been quite awhile, and he assured me there were no problems and I responded in kind. He'd simply stopped by to say hi and we chatted on the front porch to catch up. He's a nice guy. I won't say he brought out the sun, but the rest of the day was bright and shiny.
Goats are herd animals, depending on numbers for security. The girls clustered around me as we walked down to the barn last evening. I'm sure they consider me one of the group, the renegade who comes and goes. I dread the thought of a dwindling herd.
Regardless, it was a good day.