goats.

I love babies. baby humans, kittens, puppies, calves, pups, and now especially kids. No I don’t mean human children, I mean baby goats; kids! Why? Well because my neighbor has approximately 300 goats! Therefore I no longer wake only to roosters, but also to the sounds of crying kids. The irony of this is that kids sounds like human babies!

My first week here I picked up a kid! It was so soft and small, and kept on crying. . . I received many strange looks. Considering dogs aren’t even treated like pets, carrying a goat, rather cradling a goat probably does look foolish.

In the morning the goats are released from their corral at 10am. Then in mass they stride straight down the hill towards the river for grazing. Shades of brown, white, and black marching, dust flying. The kids cry and travel in every direction except the right one. They are practically marched upon as they stretch their snouts towards their mothers’ udders. Lekwae swiftly grabs 2 kids in each hand by their hind legs and tosses them back into the corral/yard. He scatters the parents and makes the sound of “sk, sk, sk” while pretending as though he’ll hit them.

Probably my favorite part of the day is from 2 to 4 when the parents return from grazing and drinking. A chorus of kids cry sounds that strangely resemble “mom, mom!” and the mothers return the calls until they are reconnected mouth to nipple.

Until sunset the 300 goats chill outside the corral in a mess of stones and rubbish. They cover the “street” and are found on top of mounds of cement fragments. At nightfall they cram back into the corral.

*excuse my poor grammar*

and im currently without a working camera otherwise i would post photos. . .