Well, the very first night that sweet Nibbles was left in the field with his brand new mama, things went awry. In the morning when my fabulous hubby, aka The Bard, went to check on the goats, Nibbles was missing. Gone.
The edge of the sun is just peeking over the horizon when the back door slams.
“I can’t find him,” my husband reports. Happily sleeping with the herd last night, one tiny goat has wandered off and is nowhere to be found.
I pull on my boots and a jacket and head out into the chilly morn. Walking the goat field, I carefully check every hollow and corner. Baby goats frolic near their mothers. It has been a good year for kidding.
But there is no sign of our missing baby. The lump in my throat grows as I open the gate to leave the field.
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