It had been a very long day. Lot's got done. We had just settled in for dinner, tired, hungry, enjoying each others company. C looked out the window and there were the goats, bounding up the lawn toward the potager and the back door. I dropped my fork, slipped on my boots and raced from the house to head them back to the barn. I'm sure a few interesting things were said as I ran down the steps. Probably in French. Six of the eight goats turned and hightailed it back to the barn, beating me to the gate and waiting patently for me to let them back in. The other two led me on a merry chase around the barn a few times before I cornered them and got them back where they belonged. While I did this a few of the first group came back out to join the fun. That's when I discovered that they hadn't escaped through the gap in the gate. No, they had knocked down one of the siding boards in the barn and made their own gate. (Goats will always find the weak spot. Even in places they have been for years. They are obsessed with testing.)
Here is where they broke through the wall (they pushed out the two boards under the window.) It's fixed in this picture, I didn't take the camera with me when I went chasing goats into the night.
The inside of the barn was quite a mess. Apparently several of the goats stopped to eat all the treats, grain, and rummage through everything before they came looking for me. I'll know who in the morning because they will be pretty sick from all the grain.
Looking pretty inocent after returning to their beds. You have to love them, or eat them...