"I can call you Betty?"
Maybe you'll recall that I did a post the other day about a nearby duck pond. Well, right next door to that location is a goat farm. Sometimes I'll be walking along, lost in my thoughts, when I'll get a pungent reminder that I'm nearing this charming little farm. There is nothing quite like the odour of goat.
As the odour intensifies, I begin to make out the shapes of the grazing animals.
There seems to be one particularly large specimen. Hold on...that's no goat!
I've heard that it's good to have a donkey on a dairy farm to keep skittish or ornery cows calm, but an alpaca to chill out the goats? The goats don't seem to mind, though I have the distinct (pardon the smelly pun) impression that the alpaca is a little self-conscious.
Nevertheless, she turns in profile to present her best side for a photo opportunity.
Ready for her close up (as close as she'll let me come) she whispers with a slight South American accent,
"You can call me Al."
This post is dedicated to Shirley, for many reasons.
