The old
billy watched us in the woods a couple of weeks ago, it looked as though he’d
lost the will to live. I walked up to within a few metres before he stood and
walked slowly away; no injury, so I suspected he’d been ousted as head of the
gang and was destined to a celibate retirement.
But not so.
Early in the morning the sound of screaming goats came through our bedroom
window with the now 8-strong gang foraging in the branches beyond the veg
patch. A new billy was there but keeping
his distance from the old billy with his enormous horns who was definitely in
charge. At first he focussed his attentions on the grey female before giving up
and wooing one of the others. What a Casanova.
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