What a frustrating morning. Took the terriers out to milk this morning because I've seen some rodents scurrying around in the barn lately. They are fantastic ratters! Okay, one of them is a fantastic ratter - the other is old

and blind. He can still sniff them out but if they run away before he can grab them, he just stands there looking perplexed. Anyway, I should have known better because the dogs made Red nervous and she kicked the bucket, not once, but TWICE. There went at least a quart of milk....grrrrr.
As part of my morning routine, I walk over to give a quick glance at the rest of the herd and, dang it, found a dead goat. It was a young wether that I'd just moved out to pasture yesterday. The worst part of this is that I think my own GPyr did the deed. Can't prove it, but I'm very suspicious. She has always been wary about new animals in HER pasture - she sees them as intruders I think. But, this goat was born here, and as a baby he crawled all over her. He's been penned with the other baby bucks for several months now and because he was wethered, I put him back with the herd yeserday evening. I watched them for a little while and, true to form, she gave him a good sniff-over, but then turned her back and walked away. She eats out of a bucket hanging on the fence, and I found him dead under the bucket. She is very food-protective and has the rest of the herd well-trained to stay away from her groceries! Guess this little guy found out the hard way.
Death on the farm is a sad, but natural part of life. I just hate it when I think it's because of my own negligence. Even after all these years, there is always something new to learn. I was complacent and I shouldn't have been, and this poor little guy paid the price. Even though he was destined for the freezer, I owed him a better life than to be killed by my own dog.
Lots of chores on the list today. Need to work on that chicken run, do some general clean-up and start the marathon mowing spree. Gotta get busy.