I consider Gilbert the most handsome goat at the sanctuary. He's got these creamy pendulous ears, soulful eyes and beautiful markings. BUT HE WILL NOT LET ME PET HIM. And this makes me sad, but this does not make me give up my dreams of snuggling with him. Okay, it does actually, but I am still convinced we'll be become best friends forever if I could just get his favorite tree leaves to grow out of my head.
In any event, I was out checking on Sadie, the cow, because I do this every day. Not because I think Sadie will magically disappear but because I have to keep reassuring her that my presence = apples and that is a good thing. This is how I often maintain excellent relationships with the less human social of the sanctuary denizens.
So there I was, giving Sadie an apple and massaging HER butt when Gilbert thought to himself, "Self, this is an excellent opportunity to receive appropriate scratches on my haunches where my hornless self cannot reach." This is actually what I imagine him thinking, of course, and perhaps not exactly what he thought. That is unimportant. What is important is that Gilbert planted himself right behind me while I discussed the best apple eating strategies with Sadie (I prefer mine sliced and covered in peanut butter, she prefers ten in her mouth whole). As I turned around to leave, I nearly face-planted because there was a hip-high goat in my way.
So, for today, that was my great victory. Scratching a goat's butt. Good times, good times.