Took two bucks to be castrated this morning; the new owner wanted wethers and, after a little dickering, we decided I would take care of it.
The Mister and I loaded Chuck and Charlie into the carrier in the back of the Forester / Goat Mobile and off we went. Because the Mister had to go on to work, I had the chore, er, pleasure, of taking the boys into the vets' office alone. They were really good. Except, as with children, they pottied themselves all the way there and back, which meant I was pottied on all the way there and back each time I picked them up.
Since they were so knocked out when we got home, I had to leave them in the back of the Goat Mobile until they woke. Chuck was up and at it pretty quickly, bawled for his Momma until I lifted him out, and then went right in for a little Momma love. Charlie, however, has had a tough time waking up. He will wake a little, thrash, roll, pee, and bawl. Then, he is right back to sleep.
I have giggled in the most unkind way! And, it reminded me of this:
I guess you can see how really sick my sense of humor is... Poor fella and poor Charlie. Charlie will have extra cookies tonight. And I won't giggle in front of him. Really.