I wonder how many folks remember the not-quite-epic tale of Baa-sil the Geep? The little baby goat my dad adopted, found a lil goaty brother for, and then discovered whoops, he's a sheep!

I visited the lil farm again, and... he may be a sheep but he's a naughty lil shit. All the stories you hear about goats getting into everything and frakkin' it up? That's Basil.

Meanwhile, lil Manuel, the ACTUAL goat, is a pretty, dainty, soft little sweetheart who just wants to sit and be petted.

And I think I've spotted the reason.

Baa-sil is spoiled rotten. Hell, they both are. They each have their own outdoor benches loaded with pillows to sleep on, right next to the outdoor dinner table on the deck.

These benches do not always suffice for Baa-sil. Because he's a damn LAP SHEEP.

Photographic evidence of an adolescent sheep curled up on my gruff, mustachioed dad's lap like a puppy:

On the other hand, this morning I walked out onto the deck at 5am, to find dainty little Manuel the goat curled up on the dog bed (that the dogs never use, they prefer the indoor sofa).

Bewilderingly, he was curled up with a plastic toy truck.



Manuel is the prettiest, calmest, friendliest goat I've ever encountered though. All he wants to do is follow you around and ask that you give him all the attention and affection and nose squooshes in the world. Honestly, I want to take him to a hospital as a therapy animal, he's so damn sweet.

They're not 100% weaned yet, and as a result, Baa-sil is perpetually on the hunt for things to shove in his mouth. Last night, he went for a phone cable, hammock, the eyepiece of a telescope, and, at one point, a frog.

The frog objected.

Here he is, approximately half a second before screaming, lunging, headbutting the everlovin' FRAK out of my phone while simultaneously flapping his tongue allll over it, covering it in spittle.

You can see the cold descent into madness behind in his eyes.


...followed by a smug grin. This little shit knows exactly what he did.

After six or seven attempts to eat my phone, jeans, hands, shirt, hair, and chair, Baa-sil expressed his frustration that I wasn't edible by huffing and then shitting expansively on the deck.

...notice how it's sort of scattered? Doesn't stay in one place? usually they walk around and leave a trail of itty bitty poop nugs in their wake.

...now look at the mat in the upper left corner. Right outside the door. Placed perfectly at stepping distance as a human exits the house 😐

Oh, you know how I mentioned that these goats are soooo incredibly spoiled? that they have their own bench-sofa-things next to the dinner table?

...I wasn't kidding.

This was the view from my chair after dinner last night, as Baa-sil was snuggled up on my dad's lap.

That's right. It's a goat, on his own personal goat-sofa. Made of wicker.

...I don't think my dad thought that one alllll the way through.

...and here's Baa-sils personal sheep-sofa. It's not wicker, at least, but it comes with big fat pillows and a HAND-CROCHETED BLANKET.

Also for some reason my brother is patting Baa-sil's butt in this photograph.

But this is a photo showing a teenage geep's personal dinner table sofa with a hand-crocheted blanket. We are beyond the mountains of madness now, people, WHO CARES IF MY BROTHER IS REACHING FOR SHEEP BUTT!?

...I... I can't even anymore.

So here's lil birbie Pippin at 4.30am this morning, determinedly serenading the corner of a couch pillow with all the romance he could muster.

...A *human* couch pillow, not a goat couch pillow or a sheep couch pillow.



...This thread got a bit more surreal-shouty than I was expecting.

I was just gonna post a couple of photos of cute teenage ungulates. But it's been a weird couple of days 😐

...also I might be a bit sleep deprived. Because the GODDAMN PEACOCKS WOULDN'T STOP MEOWING ALL NIGHT.

*takes breath*

Have a neutral frog. Frog don't give a shit about horny birbs and goat sofas. Frog just frogs, and that's ok.


OH. One last thing.

I started out calling Baa-sil a "geep," because he was (thought to be) a goat first, and then a sheep - a G-eep.

But now, it seems, being a mischievous little shit, that he's a sheep on the outside, and a goat on the inside.


...Baa-sil the... soap?

I'mma go get drunk. I think my brain is borked.

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