This year Elvis added more daughters to the herd, so Scout needed to be moved to the large pen to mate with his harem, and Elvis's four wives were to be moved to him in the billy pen.
Sounds easy, doesn't it?
Au contraire, mes amis.
We're talking 250-pound, stinky, bad-tempered, head-banging, horny billy goats here. The pheromones were flying, and lust was in the air. The task involved several crucial steps.
First, we dragged Elvis's wives into a stall leading to the Boys' Club and locked them in. Three are not yet in full heat, so dragging by the horns was the only way to move them. The one in heat (Topsy) had both boys all excited.
Then we had to get Scout to go through a make-shift chute into the Ladies' Boudoir where his seven brides awaited, none in full heat. We got him through and closed the chute, Husband in with Elvis while I ran through the big pen to get Topsy and her sisters out of the stall into the Honeymoon Suite. That's when the trouble really began.
Scout was chasing several nannies who did not yet want his attentions, so I was stuck in a milling herd for a few minutes. I heard Himself yell, and as I hotfooted it to the gate I saw him go down. He had Elvis on the ground in a wrestling hold, but the poor guy was outweighed by at least a hundred pounds, and Elvis wanted to fight somebody RIGHT NOW. I shoved Topsy through the stall door, which got Elvis off a scraped and banged-up Husband long enough for him to get out of the pen, leaving the happy couple inseminating away while the other three nannies proclaimed loudly that they all had headaches, not tonight!
Fortunately Himself escaped serious injury, but he's sore today. (And I think he's a bit embarassed that Elvis got him. He muttered a bit about his advancing years.) Because Scout isn't getting any comfort yet from his seraglio, he spent the day charging and head-butting the fence, moaning and snorting.
All of the girls should be ready for Barry White CDs and Victoria's Secret lingerie within the next few days, and as soon as all of them are pregnant, things will quiet down to normal again. The boys will reunite in the bachelor pad, the girls will want ice cream and pickles, and we'll wait for the bounty of Spring.
We better get a good price on a good crop of little goaties, or I know somebody who's gonna go to market.