Hours later, ear plugs having fallen themselves out, I awoke again, this time to sounds of hooves on concrete accompanied by a very strong whiff of farmyard. I pulled back my curtain to find a herd of goats nibbling at my veg patch! For the second time, I shot out of bed, grabbed the broom and raced out the back door, shooing them away from my plants – little buggers had taken chunks out of almost everything. I tried to work out where they’d come from, then I twigged - the Landlord had gone to Kasungu the previous day and must have driven them back late at night, protesting all the way I should imagine.
I was beginning to feel a bit self conscious standing there in my pink pyjamas, clutching a broomstick and the goats, having nipped round the side of the house in their escape were now happily munching a pile of grass clippings so I though it’d be safe to have a quick shower and then resume guard duty until I saw someone to ask what was going on.
Properly dressed, I opened up the front door and here is the scene that greeted me…
On the left we have Mr Landlord coming back from somewhere or other (he was in, out, in out for the whole day). In the middle, the goats, obviously bored with grass had finally discovered the Landlord’s veggies - much more appetising. Shine, the new guard, running back to the truck on the right, where I suddenly realised that the two big heaps were dead cows – curiously being sprayed down with the hosepipe, and finally The Snoopies, big and little, warily watching everything but sensibly keeping well out of it.
By the afternoon, the cows had gone (?to market) and the goats had been penned in behind the boys quarters I think as they were nowhere to be seen, except the unfortunate one that was hacked up with a panga (I found bone chips on my nice clean washing!)
A strange day, the day the goats came into the garden.
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