Whelp, That Didn't Work

Goats are notorious for escaping fences, and our goats are no exception.  Those darlings have four plus acres of great foraging options, but seem to prefer whatever's on the other side of the fence.  Since we've had goats, it has been a constant battle to keep them contained.  We're getting better at it--the escape routes are dwindling and the herd stays in more than out, but it requires time on our part to find and close up holes and weak areas of the fence.

A couple years ago, Micah and I were determined to end the escaping once and for all.  We walked the fence line with our supplies:  a bucket filled with fence nails, zip ties, wire, wire cutters, a hammer, and snacks.  (The snacks were particularly important.  One cannot mend fences without snacks.)  The goats followed along, looking panicked whenever we came to a spot they'd been escaping.

Using the supplies in our bucket, along with random sticks and some ingenuity, we patched the holes and gave each other high fives in congratulations.  The whole experience turned into an enjoyable mother-son bonding time, complete with snacks.

Our fixes worked!  For a little bit.  Soon after, we saw the hooligans shenaniganizing (I'm determined to make this a word!) outside of their approved boundaries.  "Whelp, that didn't work," we said to each other.  Out we went again, noting the NEW escape routes, repairing them using our sticks and wits, and enjoying snacks. 

And so it went.  We'd have days, or weeks, or (when we were lucky) months of contained goats, followed by escapee goats, followed by repair work by the "Sticks and Wits Fencing Company," followed by, "Whelp, that didn't work."

Today was another such day.  We walked the entire fence line and found two obvious escape routes.  We "repaired" them, congratulated each other, and headed inside.  Several hours later we had goats in our front yard. 

Some people might get angry and frustrated, but we've learned not to.  It's one of my favorite things about my kid and our relationship.  Through the Sticks and Wits Fencing Company, we've learned the value of hard work, that it can be fun, and that sometimes you've got to go back to the drawing board.  Maybe someday we'll have the muscle and money to install a proper goat-proof fence, but in the meantime, our sticks and wits seem to do the job well enough.

As for me, I'm enjoying time with my favorite guy.  It's remarkable, really, to watch a boy transform into a man, and I'm getting a front row seat.