One afternoon a few weeks ago, 3 goats were out — happily trotting around the vacant lots behind our apartment, eating grass and relaxing. The same group come here every day. Like many tropical rain storms here (with no warning at all), thunder and big rain hurled itself out of the sky and onto those goats. They took off and I can still picture the three of them frantically running in single before disappearing into a hole in a concrete wall.This morning I called to Jerry from my office, ‘get me some goat photos please’. He happily trotted off to the paddocks below our apartment and came back 5 minutes later. ‘Tita Mel Tita Mel’ he shouted. I ignored him. ‘There’s a problem Tita Mel. A problem.’ he insisted with urgency. I looked up. ‘Tita Mel the problem is, no goats’. He kept going back and checking all afternoon until they finally turned up. I spotted him out the window after he shouted up through the window ‘Tita Mel, goats. Tita Mel the goats is here’.
wonderful
Thanks, Jerry and i love these goats. There is a baby kid since I first wrote the poem, terribly cute.
mxx