"That's just the stress talkin', man."

Digby started climbing this tree right up against the neighbor's property. He scuttled up there like he had an escape route in mind, but ended up only nibbling on a few magnolia leaves and Dora's camellia.

The end of that log ends directly over the fence, about 5 feet off the ground. So, the jump is doable, but Digby would have to really be invested in something on the other side to attempt that sort of leap.

If we had to, we could saw off about 2 feet or so of log to further discourage any daredevil goats. But, I'm interested in seeing if he'll make the jump. (And not about to spend a half hour sawing a log.) So the log stays.

"I will not abide another toe."

Our less than perfect history with fences led me and Scott to go ahead and tackle the creek channel issue as well. Previously, we had 5 or 6 pieces of the salvaged frat lumber crossing the channel at several angles, making a pretty half ass goat barrier. And an eye sore.

This new solution drops a strip of black fencing down from the existing wire fencing. Stakes and zip ties were used to keep the fence taught from top to bottom.

Where high water and debris come rushing down, we made two vertical cuts so that a section can swing downstream and allow the junk to pass under. To keep it weighed down in place and deter goats from testing its strength, we fastened a heavy stick to the bottom. It looks nice, but that doesn't mean squat to a goat. We'll see how long until we have to go chasing again...

"Saturday, Donny, is the Jewish day of rest."

I've been admittedly misleading in my reporting of goat escapes. Here's the truth, and nothing but the truth:

For a solid 5 days there, I sighed every time I saw Dusty, Taylor, Willy, or Scott's name light up my cell phone. It's safe to say we've all had our chances to get over the learning curve on how to catch and transport escaped small livestock by hand. Poor Taylor had a daily cardio session trying to keep them out of "Slam" Duncan and Dora's yard. With midterms all week and an empty wallet, I had to make do for as long as possible with what was available. There, that was the disclaimer. Don't judge.

First the good news. The herd has successfully removed all privet from the back yard. Only their bare, leafless stalks remain. Like the Elephant Graveyard of invasive exotics. With my goats replacing the three spooky hyenas. I'll get pictures of skeletal plants uploaded soon.

For whatever reason, all three have honed in on the privet plants throughout the backyard. They're so efficient, in fact, that the only remaining privet is overhanging the fence from over the fence. Even that is sheared off at head level.

Unfortunately, one privet branch was located directly above the section of fence made of the material salvaged from beneath the deck. Whether he knew what he was doing or not, Digby's weight was enough to tear/bend the fencing material. Along with the fact that the fencing was old and brittle, the real problem lies in the diameter of the individual fence openings. The holes were small enough to allow a goat's hoof to place pressure on it. The hog wire fencing around the rest of the yard had holes big enough to render a goat's hoof useless. No traction, no leverage, no jumping, no escaping. Pretty simple.

As I noted earlier, the goats had no idea they were doing something wrong by walking through a hole in some porous black object. Their idea of making a break for it seems to consist of wandering about 15 feet, head to the ground the entire time, nibbling on whatever their mouth touches.

I admit it wasn't pretty, but our "solution" did the job relatively well. The picture at the top of this post depicts our efforts to discourage goats from reaching for the problematic privet. It's basic structure consisted of two rows of black fencing zip tied to stakes. All covered in whatever was at hand (wood palette, old picket fence section, branches, etc.). After two missed lectures spent goat wrangling, I finally called the Goat NooB Hotline.

Miss Charlie was happy to hear an update on the goats, and, when presented with our problem, offered to donate a roll of hog wire to the cause. About 3o linear feet of it - the exact amount needed to patch up both previous fencing solutions. Muchos gracias, Farmer Chuck. It's becoming quite obvious these goat herders are a generous people.

Now, with Scott's help, the back fence is looking nice and goat proof. So far, we don't have any post repair escapes. And my phone's been much quieter. No news is good news.

Lesson learned. Have a sturdy fence at least 36" high without holes small enough to allow goats to lean on it. Unless their hooves slide through, they'll eventually get enough leverage to hurdle anything you can put in front of them. Now you know.

"Another caucasion, Gary."

My appetite's been taken care of for the time being, so I don't anticipate traveling farther than the fridge for the remainder of the night. The dinning hall came through big time tonight with a surprise (to me) special 5-star dinner event. Hell yeah.

AND my roommate told me he broke up with his girlfriend the other day. Said he no longer wanted the brownies she'd made him on the counter. Sorry for your loss, dude. But don't count on those brownies making it through the night.

So, I plan on catching up on goat news in the company of the chocolate covered fruit I smuggled out in some Tupperware. It's not stealing if you're eating it yourself, right? Right.

In all seriousness, the dining hall put together a performance tonight. Delicious food all over the place. As a cyber high-five, I'll shamelessly link to their webpage as much as possible. Maybe even write a letter.

(Just to bring everybody back down to earth, some meat head plopped down across the table from me with his gallon jug of Creatine-y water, 3 sweet potatoes, and a bowl of chili. In the midst of a once-a-semester feast! Justified his main course with "sweet potatoes are awesome sources of carbs if you're trying to gain weight." Go 'dawgs.)