The little lost goat
One Sunday morning I was in the garden weeding. It has been a lot wetter in Spain in 2018 and the weeds grow profusely when it starts to warm up.
This area of southern Spain is known for its honey and goat cheese. For the latter there is a dairy in the village and there are tankers arriving daily to collect the milk. There are herds of goats that are walked in the hills once or twice a day with their shepherds and goat dogs. You should see the size of the dogs!
You hear them when they are out as the sound of their bells will carry across the valley. They keep the weeds and grass down on the hills and reduce the chance of hill fires by removing the dry plants. They also provide excellent fertiliser.
As I was weeding I kept hearing the sound of one goat but could not see or hear the rest of the herd. This little head popped up at one part of the garden and he (or she) eventually came into the garden. To prevent the little thing eating the vegetables and the flowers I had to catch him which I managed to do.
I then put him on a dog lead whilst I walked round the property looking for the remainder of his herd – I could see nothing.
So, I put him in the boot of the car and went to find the local goat man. A man who kept donkeys and mules helped me with directions to the goat farm. They use mules here to plough the strips of land between the olive trees that are grown on the hills.
I found the goat farm and the goats were penned in. My little friend did not want to leave the car (they can make good pets). After some persuasion he got back to his friends and family.
I am no longer Billy ‘No mates’!!
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