The goat has died

Late last year, Goat arrived.  Unannounced and uninvited, Goat made the crossing from the neighbour's paddock ("we thought we heard a goat - no, not ours!  Shoot him!") he made a beeline for the two donkeys who were slightly surprised at the newcomer.  They've not met a goat before, but, being donkeys, they were quite quizzy about this little white Billy, so they kind of adopted him and tolerated his company.   Goat was very timid and the minute he heard either of us coming down the pathway, he bolted, lowering his head so his horns acted a bit like rails, he could easily slide through the wire fence and make his way down the gully out of sight.

We don't have much land, just enough for 4 cattle and the two donkeys - who can live off the smell of an oily rag, practically - so as far as Goat was concerned, he was a waste of rations, but so long as he remained in the gully, we didn't mind.  However, time came for the donks to be shifted to a different paddock, and Goat got lonely.  He followed the donks, but went via the garden.  Not a good move.  But he didn't appear to have gone into the sacred vegetable plot, so he was forgiven, or rather, ignored.  I did notice he had a real liking for succulent plants, though, and especially enjoyed the tender tips of shrubs.  I didn't point this out.

Every farmer within cooee was asked if they'd lost a goat.  (a) no farmer would keep one billygoat and (b) no one could catch the damn thing anyhow, and (c) who cared about a goat - shoot him, they said.  But we didn't.  We just ignored him, as he ignored us, and life went on.

Yesterday, I went down to feed the chooks and saw Goat lying quietly by the shed.  He looked as though he were asleep.  All the same, I was surprised he didn't hear me coming, and my heart sank as I opened the gate and he still didn't move.  Exit Goat.  Poor little old Billy.  I don't know if he was old - he didn't look too old - or sick, or just ill.