Trixie, our big dog, loves to go on goat rounds with me. She is ten years old, and has no patience with the puppies and their rambunctious anarchy. Going on rounds with me is her mini vacation. I am happy to have her along, since she is the only one of the dogs who can be trusted not to barf in the car.
When I put on my boots and pick up my purse, she will wake up from her old lady slumber and charge out the door to go wait by the car. If I don't let her come with me, she watches me back out of the driveway with a face that is a mixture of sad and vindictive. Yesterday I opened the back door of the car for her to hop in. My son came out and got in, which takes a while. Getting him out the door is like trying to pour molasses in a snowstorm. Since he moves so slowly, our little micro rooster, Bluey, followed him to the car and stood there waiting to be picked up.
So everybody got to go on rounds! Bluey turned out to be a great passenger. He sat quietly on my son's lap while we drove, and got to go see the goats with us.
Trixie had a good time too. She loves a good roll in the grass, but I am careful not to let her roll where the cows have been. Goat poop is nice little round pellets. Cow poop is a big ploppy mess, and more than once I've let Trixie back in the car only to smell the distinctly gross aroma of fresh cow poop, and when I look back I see that her neck is green instead of white. That makes for a ride home with the windows open and a good hosing down when we get home.
After we checked on the goats, we went to my friend's house to pick tomatoes. That's a whole other post, but while we were picking, Bluey hopped into the back seat with the dog and found the bag of apples that was left there after the cider pressing last weekend. My son grabbed Bluey and the apple when we got back to the car and held onto the apple so the poor rooster could eat more easily. I couldn't get a picture of the funniest part, where he was pecking at the apple so hard that juice was flying all over the place. All I could get was this one, when we weren't moving.
We went into town after the tomato picking and ran a bunch of errands. Bluey had to stay in the car while we were in the grocery store, since we figured "Service Rooster" isn't a recognized thing. He did bring him into the bank, however, and all the tellers swarmed around and petted him. I figured we had a fifty/fifty chance of getting a good response or getting kicked out. I'm glad it went the way it did. I didn't think to get pictures of the rooster in the bank, because I was busy doing my banking, but that would have been a great shot to get. All I have to close the post is this shot of him on top of the round pen at Farmer Dan's.
Anyway, that's the story of when the tiny rooster went to town. Have a great afternoon ( or evening or morning) everyone!