A friend of mine made a comment yesterday that really struck home. 

She said, "There's a reason that Satan is represented as a goat!"

My friend has sheep and a goat. I feel her pain.  I have sheep and goats too. I love 'em both.  My sheep are not exactly free thinkers though.  They aren't the brightest crayons in the box.  The goats however, ahh the goats . . .   They take thinking to whole new level.  Now I'm not talking about Albert Einstein-Thomas Edison-Do-Something-To-Bring-Goodness-to-the-World kind of thinking. I'm talking Career Criminal kind of thinking. I'm talking about people who put every waking moment into finding ways to make THEIR lives better and screw everyone else.  It's who they are. They can't help themselves. And even as they make my life more difficult, I have a grudging admiration for them.

The little beasts have figured out how to screw up my Border Collie.  YES!  Since they've been allowed loose with the sheep, the goats have learned that when the dog goes to bring them in, all they have to do is stand still while the sheep flow around them. Like boulders in a fast-moving river, the goats stand and watch as the sheep jostle past them.

They pretend that the dog has actually come to gather the sheep, and they are merely spectators to this daily ritual.  The sheep go out. The sheep go in. The sheep go out. The sheep go in.  The dog moves the sheep into a nice neat ball and rolls it toward me.  As they sweep past the goats, the goats stand there, like spectators to a police chase. 

"We just standing here, in our flip-flops, watching the show."

I used to have the dog bring in both flocks together.  What a train wreck!  Sheep flock. Goats scatter and run like hell.  The dog GATHERS sheep.  The dog heads off and DRIVES goats.  She couldn't do both at the same time. It was screwing up my dog . . . big time.  So we abandoned that.  It all came to a head on Tuesday.  I was running late for work.  (I'm always running late for work so that was nothing new.)

I head out to the pasture.  Sheep immediately come running.  Goats stand and watch sheep. Goats snicker as Border Collie attempts to blend them into flock.  I make mistake of losing my temper and decide to address the goat problem right then and there!  (Damn it! Stamp my crook into the ground. Those goats need some manners. NOW!) The goats were not impressed. 

While Border Collie and I are farting with goats, sheep run through a hole the goats made in the fence and are now in another pasture.  I cuss.  Border Collie is confused.  Goats?  Sheep?  Which ones do I want? I realize that we must deal with the sheep before we can deal with the goats.  While Border Collie can slide through that hole in the fence, I have no such desire to get down on my knees and crawl through the damned hole, so I take Border Collie through the barn with me as the goats climb through the hole.  We pop out of barn in time to see the last of the goats sliding their scrawny asses through the hole.  The sheep and goats are together again.  I send Border Collie after sheep.  Goats process this quickly and start to sneak back through hole.  In an amazing leap of logic for a sheep, the entire flock ALSO jumps to the conclusion that like the goats, THEY can run for the hole too.  I begin to scream.  Border Collie starts to head them off, but hesitates.  (probably because I was screaming like a banshee!)  I watch the first of the goats make it to the hole.

"Lily!!!  Get'em! Get'em! Get em!"  (911 call to a Border Collie)

Border Collie salutes and races off.  By the time she makes it to the hole, all the goats and two sheep have squeezed through and are now standing on the other side jeering and making faces.  She rounds up the rest of the flock and brings them to me.  This requires pushing them through a small ditch filled with water.  They balk.  She pushes.  That's when the dominant ewe decided to make a break and run for the hole in the fence.  I was beside myself with hysteria.  The goats are teaching my sheep Very Bad Things!  In her frustration, Border Collie grabs Dominant Ewe by the back hoof and holds on.  For a moment the action stops.  Everyone is in shock. I scream at Border Collie.  She lets go of Ewe.  With her sanity restored, Ewe runs back to the flock as they rush into the shed and hide from Border Collie Gone Insane. 

I understand Border Collie's frustration. I've wanted to crack 'em on the head with a crook before too. No harm/no foul. Off we go to gather the sheep again.  Sheep are hiding behind a dead mower, old wire, and various barn junk that hasn't seen the light of day in years.  Sheep won't come out.  Border Collie must slowly creep in and move them out one by one. 

(This is where I decided that no matter how much easier sheep are to handle than goats, sheep are just plain stupid. I'm sorry, God love 'em, but they are.)

One by one, Border Collie moves the ewes out of the corner and around the junk.  A roll of field fencing is lying on its side in the corner.  This is just the end of a roll, not enough to do much with.  One ewe, in a move that only a sheep could understand, decides to lower her head and crawl INTO that roll of field fencing.  Border Collie looks over her shoulder at me. 

"Did you SEE that?!!"

I did, and I am as amazed as the dog. Okay.  Well then.  The dog and I watch the ewe wriggle into her new Field Fencing Suit. As God is my witness, Folks, that stupid sheep stuck her head through the other side, stuck her legs through the wire, stood up, and joined the flock wearing her new wire suit! Trust me, had I not been late to work, I would have run to the house for my camera.  This was a Kodak Moment!

The rest of the flock appear not to notice the new fashion accessory. The Ewe joins the flock and Border Collie moves them all into the barn where their dinner is waiting.  While they jostle at the feeder, I manage to extract Goofy Ewe from her new suit. I must then go back out to pasture to gather the two quick sheep who slid through the fence with the goats.  Border Collie makes short work of that chore.  NOW it is time to get the goats in!  I am ready to unleash The Beast!  I am ready to let that Border Collie EAT a goat!  I'm pumped! I smack my crook on the ground and Border Collie salutes.  We head to pasture.  The goats see us coming, get into a nice single-file line and march into their little goat prison. What?!!   (I really think they do that kind of thing just to screw with me.)

Border Collie is disappointed. She closes the gate and we throw the goats some hay.  As I head for the house, I see one of the goats checking out the discarded roll of field fencing, and wonder what goes through the mind of a goat.  Clearly . . . a lot more than goes through the mind of a sheep.