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Memories of Country Life
The Devourers

When we decided to move to the country, we bought a house with a large garden, and I was eagerly looking forward to producing our own vegetables and variety of flowers all year round.

It worked well to begin with. We fenced off an area for a kitchen garden, and planted neat rows of vegetables. It was just as they were beginning to grow and were promising a good crop, that I made the mistake. I decided to buy some goats.

Everyone has a part to play in the ideal life I envisaged, or so I thought in my innocence. I decided that the goats' task would be to control the weeds on the rough patch of ground adjacent to the house.

It was also a bonus that one of the goats was a milking nanny, and I had a notion to save money by producing our own milk. The plan for the milk worked well, with the cooperation of the nanny goat, not always freely given, and we had an abundance. So much so, that I was able to experiment with cheese, yoghurt, and other natural products.

The weeds began to disappear too, but unfortunately they were not the only things. Goats are very purposeful creatures, especially where food is concerned, and they just love fresh vegetation. We soon discovered that fences were no problem to them. Up and over they went through the tiniest of spaces between bars, and even tearing at the wire netting with their feet until there was a hole big enough to climb through.
They cannot resist new spring cabbages, or the leaves of the new potatoes we were savouring for ourselves, and it became a constant battle of wills to keep up with the fence repairs before the goats devoured everything. The ultimate insult is that they would stand and look at me with their square eyes, as if telling me that I had no business on their patch. New trees, cherry pear and apple were prematurely pruned, and flowers disappeared under the relentless onslaught.

As if we had not had enough punishment, we bought a horse, with visions of riding out on a misty summer morning to enjoy the exercise and our country life. No one told us about these worldly beasts. I can assure you that horses do not deserve the reputation of having little intelligence. Their brain is on a much higher plane, and I am sure they have the ability to read one's mind. This horse learned to open gates and doors, and teamed up with a goat to help it gain access to the forbidden fruit. He was not averse to enjoying a mouthful or two himself. Many a time his face held a smug, satisfied expression when he stood there with his muzzle soaked in raspberry juice from the canes and fruit he had just demolished.

Finally, we cracked it. Goats were secure in their own paddock, and gates made horse-proof. We could now get on with the task of growing things.
How wrong could we be?

Learn more about this author, Dorothy Skinner.
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