So after another half dozen times that our testosterone challenged macho goat knocked the door of the corral off, it was time for him to move on to greener pastures. We drove on out towards Valle de Santiago to this bridge where we typically find a herd of goats out and about. Sure enough, there they were.
My husband made a deal, Elvis the macho goat for either 2 small female goatlings or one larger one that was pregnant. The owner said he could choose two small ones, which suited my husband just fine because one ended up being pregnant anyway.
During the transfer, my husband handed the lasso that was around Elvis’s neck to the new owner. Elvis leaped off stage (the back of the truck) and took off. The new owner flew through the air much like one of those cartoon characters. Elvis was immediately rechristened “Venado” (deer) by the laughing compadres (buddies) watching the spectacle.
Little chivito (Spot, one of the triplets) stepped right up to the plate now that Elvis is gone even though he’s not quite a year old. Whether Spot or Elvis has done the job, we are sure to have a batch of kids in December or thereabout.
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