A visitor today leaned on the fence and said, “He looks like he has thoughts.”
Correct.
She continued, “I wonder what he thinks about.”
I made direct eye contact.
I was thinking about wind patterns, hay quality, and long-term pasture strategy.
But I allowed mystery.
Mystery builds intrigue.
The goat tried to interrupt by headbutting the fence lightly.
Ignored.
The calf stood beside me, attempting stoicism.
He blinked too often.
We’ll work on that.
Official Statement:
“Not every thought must be explained.”
Respect. The. Hair.
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