You know, I’ve always thought of goats as rugged animals, survivalists even. A beast that can eat your shoe, or a piece of your car on a bad day, is no sissy. So I am really entertained to discover that they’re afraid of rain. This isn’t an individual trait, but the whole herd’s. Even a little mist is viewed with suspicion, but the actual downpour that we received in the last couple days has been met with herd-wide alarm. Our off-limits farmhouse door is only 40 or so feet from the goat’s barn, but when a few sprinkles landed on them, they roared into my house which offered a closer refuge than the barn door. Like the actual 10 feet more had they gone in the opposite direction to their barn, was too dicey. And then resolutely stood their ground when invited to leave. I know we’ve gone over this before; no goats in the livingroom. But getting a goat to move toward something they’re afraid of is like trying to argue with arugula. Each one had to be unbrella’d and carried to the barn, where they’ve sulked for hours waiting for the wet stuff to go away.