Well, it’s official: we now have definitive PROOF that Cuzco is an incurable PYROMANIAC!

Tonight he very nearly immolated himself when he stole the fire that Phil was in the process of lighting. It happened like this: Phil crumpled up the paper for the campfire while Cuzco, as always, peered over his shoulder and micromanaged the operation. Phil pushed him away and proceeded to light the paper, but Cuzco would not yield. Phil thought that Cuzco would back off when the paper was lit, but boy was he wrong! As soon as the paper went up in flames, Cuzco snatched it and took off across the yard and beyond Phil’s reach. The paper continued to burn and Cuzco refused to drop it as flames engulfed his head. Phil was afraid Cuzco’s hair would catch fire and he might set our yard ablaze, but thank goodness he finally came to his senses and dropped the fireball on the grass where Phil stomped it out.

Cuzco’s entire face is quite singed. With his blackened nose, he looks like one of those cartoon character bums with the heavy five-o-clock shadow.

All the hair has been scorched from his nose and lips and the skin is shiny but does not appear damaged. He was obviously sore because he did not come back and hang over the campfire as usual. He started to, but then he began licking his lips like the heat hurt them and he backed off and kept his distance for the rest of the evening. I rubbed aloe gel on the blackened spots after he finished his dinner (the burn did not seem to dampen his appetite).

All of the whiskers on Cuzco’s muzzle, chin, and around his eyes are completely burnt off. His eyelashes are singed, the fringes around his ears are shriveled back, and the hair on his cheeks is all burnt brown and curly. But for all that, he seems rather proud of himself. I hope this does not become a habit!

We were not able to get a picture of the actual conflagration, but Phil was able to fix up a creditable image of what it looked like:

Oh, and Cuzco’s incineration did not dampen his love of music. He ventured back over to the fire as soon as Phil broke out the fiddle.

Yesterday Phil and I took Pedro and Napoleon for their first hike together just the two of them. I believe they’ve found a new home beginning in October, so I’d like to spend as much time as I can with them for the few more weeks they’re here.

These two recently began to take notice of each other after Napoleon had a large and sudden growth spurt that put him within range of Pedro’s size. There has been a good bit of head-knocking between them lately, which tells me they will most likely be fast friends before long.

Napoleon is adorable but is starting to assert himself. I’ve had to correct him a few times recently for sneaking up from behind and savaging my pant legs with his horns. There’s just something about that opening at the end of my shorts that is incredibly inviting for little horns! Pedro went through the same phase in July but learned very quickly that attacking people’s clothing is off-limits.

Pedro is as sleek as Napoleon is fuzzy.

We had one incident in which the boys wanted to take a different trail, and it brings home to me how well goats memorize their surroundings. These boys have never been to this place before, but as we hiked back to the truck they knew the right trail to take. About half-way along the road there is a fork where you can take a scenic detour loop that winds through the oak near a ravine. This is the route we always take when we head back. The boys stopped at the fork and tried to convince us we were on the wrong road.

“This is NOT the way we came, you guys! You’re taking the wrong fork!”

We kept walking and eventually they gave up and came flying down the “wrong” trail with us. I’m sure they were happier in the end–the scenic route has more stuff to eat!

My Men in Black.

We had fun at the State Fair last weekend! The highlight, as always, was the annual costume class, and as usual we were the only adults “competing”. As a new Ben-Hur movie recently came out, we thought it would be appropriate to reenact the chariot race.

We only got down one side of the arena in our chariots before Sputnik ran into a corner and had to be helped out. Finn stalled when he saw Sputnik stop, so Ben-Hur and Messala ended up having to lead their charges across the finish line. But the crowds seemed to get a kick out of it. I know we did!

Yesterday Phil and I took Finn and Sputnik for a hike up the Bartlett Trail in hopes of reaching the top of Greenhorn Mountain’s south peak. We got a late start and didn’t make our goal, but we still had a very nice time.

The boys took turns carrying the 20 lb. pack. Each one carried it halfway up, and each one carried it halfway down. There were a lot of logs over the trail so there were many opportunities for them to learn how to negotiate obstacles with a pack on. Jump over? Crawl under? Go round? It was fun to watch their brains working to figure out the best route.

This trail has amazing views of the eastern plains and of Rye and Colorado City spread out below us, including our own house.

Phil was clever enough to remember the binoculars.

He took some photos through the lenses. I didn’t think they’d come out. I’m such a doubter!

Close-up of our house:

“Finn, get out of the view!”

“No, I’m gorgous!”

I forgot about this fun video we took last March.

Phil and I took a nice walk around our property early Saturday evening before the sun dipped behind the mountains. The light was soft and pleasant, and some recent rainstorms had cheered the pastures to a gentle green.

Tigerlily, clean and bright in the green grass. I love her fluffy tail. She gets it from her papa.

Speak of the devil–Finn: spectacular as always.

“May I have this dance?”

“You may!”

Sputnik often likes to walk with me now and I can even rest my hand on his back as we go along.

Me and my girls.

Our babies are growing like crazy and fast turning into big goats. Rambo is looking particularly regal these days. And true to his name, he’s one giant ball of muscle. I had to restrain him for a minute this morning and I couldn’t believe how strong he was. He almost pulled me over and didn’t act like it took any effort at all.

Oakley had an oak leaf stuck in her collar. It seemed fitting somehow. She’s a pampered little princess now that her brothers are gone. She gets all her mother’s attention and milk to herself.

Pepi is adorable. She has this silly habit of running up from behind, planting both front feet on my bottom,and then walking along like that. She wants to start a conga line! Six weeks ago she walked with her hind legs on my back for the entire length of a pasture! She hasn’t done it in a while but recently she started again. I need to discourage her because she’s getting too big for these shenanigans, but it’s hard to say no when they’re this cute and when they don’t mean anything remotely aggressive by it.

She loves to waltz as well as conga!

“I can even be goofy once in a while… if it means cookies!”

The poor fella has lost a lot of flesh in his old age, but I still admire his powerful shoulders and the length of his stride once he gets going. It takes him longer to get going these days and he certainly expends no extra energy, but he still loves a nice walk.

King Cuzco. Need I say more?

Last week Phil and I went for an evening walk after we’d already put the goats to bed. We decided it was too much to take the whole herd, and no one wanted to come with us except Cuzco and Finn anyway. So we brought those two out and started down the driveway. About halfway down, Cuzco whipped round without warning and broadsided Finn. He spun Finn around 180 degrees then shoved him toward the goat pen. And that was the end of Finn’s walk. We tried calling him to follow us but he would come no further. Finn stood in the driveway baa-aa-ing despondently until we were out of sight. Cuzco, on the other hand, could not have been more smug. He strutted for the rest of the walk, pleased to have Phil and I all to himself for once. Finn made his lonely way back to the goat pen where he waited sadly by the gate until we returned. We gave him some cookies as a consolation prize.

Normally I would not let one goat bully another out of a walk, but I sometimes feel that Cuzco needs these jubilant little triumphs lest he stop feeling relevant. And I know he misses the one-on-one time he took for granted during those years as an only goat. He spends much of his time growling at Phil and I with his hackles raised for one thing or another these days, but when he gets us to himself he’s as sweet and loving as can be. I try to get him up on the porch from time to time so he can be alone with us, but he’s had difficulty managing the stairs this summer. He needs one of those stairlift chairs. But despite being increasingly cranky and arthritic, he’s never late for his grub! I recently got ahold of a huge jar of pecan brittle and woe to any goat but Cuzco who tries to touch it! A lack of teeth does not deter him from devouring it in enormous, crunchy mouthfuls. And with no teeth, I don’t have to worry about giving him cavities.