Reasons for bad blogging part 1

Those of you who know me well understand that I am a complete animal nut. I mean we're not talking cat lady here, but, well, I guess I became a Vet Nurse for a reason. Anyway, the things is, in our family it has always been a long standing joke that when Rob asked my Dad if it was okay for him to take me off the market (yes, we are that old fashioned) that my Dad said yes, but on one condition- that he took the darn goats away too. Since then, Littlehales family folklore tells of the Pygmy Goat dowry.

And I loved my goats. For sixteen years I had them, put up with them bleating every autumn when they were in season, coped with the tap dancing routine they performed on the roof of one of their Pygy huts and even bit my tongue when they never failed to turn a flock of carefully herded sheep into a seething mass of rioting idiots who refused point blank to go in the direction you were hearing them- because the Pygmy Goat decided at the last minute to run in the opposite direction. (Picture much running around and launching of husband at multiple badly behaved ewes) But alas, all things come to an end and I said goodbye to Briar, my last goat, two years ago.

This year, Rob and I have been married ten years and what did the old romantic ask me? Yep, did I want some Pygmy Goats for our anniversary. I may be sad, but that's one of the most romantic things he could have said.

So, here's introducing Rosehip and Lillie..

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