I may have mentioned earlier, we have goats, I will have also mentioned we live in what was once a swamp. It is also common knowledge that we have young boys. Well last night these three factors came together in the most bewildering of events.
After a long extended weekend, it came down to doing the last chore – moving the goats. Not a chore relished by either Hubby the Un-Gardener or myself as we can both testify to how much of a punch two D sized batteries can whallop when hooked up to an electric fence.
So the most gorgeous sunset in ages became the back drop for the drama about to unfold. With mozzies nipping at our ankles we climbed the gate into the goat paddock to find them missing! We could hear them but they were nowhere to be seen.
This is where the swamp enters the story, to keep the land “swamp-free” the local area is surrounded by an extensive network of drains and ditches, and the one out the front of our place is exceptionally deep.
It’s is only through the blessing of a break in the crappy summer weather that the water level was only ankle deep because at the bottom of the drain Sweetie the Goat was down there, crying out for help. Snowy the Goat was on the wrong side of the wooden fence, which was supposed to be the second line of defence after the electric fence, pacing back and forth along the narrow edge of the drain, full of concern for her friend.
At this point the contribution to this story by the third party is reluctantly admitted. The boys had been playing hide and seek with friends, and despite having three acres in which to hide, they chose the goat paddock. Having experienced the zap of the fence before, in the wisdom of a child, they decided to switch off the fence to prevent a shock that would interfere with the fun being had! Needless to say they never switched it back on again or we wouldn’t have ended up with the conundrum before us: how to get a goat out of the drain.
Hubby the Un-Gardener raced off to get the ladder and I went off in search of a rope. Putting things back in their proper place isn’t one of our strong points but we are working on it. So while I was doing a frenzied search for rope, Hubby the Un-Gardener had shimmied down the ladder and rescued Sweetie the Goat – fireman style, over his shoulder and so when I got there (without rope) he was standing at the top edge of the drain, with the goat, looking as calm as can be – and I missed it! I missed all the heroic action – drats!
So now the goats are safe and sound eating fresh grass within the confines of the electric fence, the kids have been suitably chastised and we are off to buy goat proof wire fencing to make the wooden fence impenetrable.
Oh the joys of country living!
Come again soon – not to be out done by the goats – the chickens have a tale to tell. And Hubby the Un-gardener wants to get a cow?! I don’t think we are ready. I don’t think we will ever be ready!
Sarah the Gardener : o )