We’ve taken to ringing a bell when we feed them. They catch on fast. Nog can pet them now, they seem to trust him. Last evening the older goat (formerly named Thelma, but since been given the name, I swear to God, Billie) actually ate Nogs assignment for the Clover Bowl. The dogs are tolerating them well, haven’t even sneered at them once. No, NM, we will not be eating them.
Oh, the tobacco stakes are in my barn, whenever you want them.