What's Wrong With These Pictures?

The dogs were not the only ones stirred up by the 'cannon fire'.

Yes, apparently we didn't hang Willow's bucket high enough to keep two enterprising and determined Goaty Girls out of it.  Especially when he gets a wild hair and decides it's safer in the open than in his shed. 

I promise this is not going to become a Goat Blog!  It's just that the little critters are just so darn entertaining.  And still strange enough to us to be intriguing with all their little characteristics and mannerisms.  Hannah has become quite the love bug, coming up for scratches and petting, especially around her head and neck, and under her jaw.  Typically, Miss Stacy is only interested in you if you've got something edible.  I haven't been able to 'reach' her yet.  If I don't have something for her she's on to another prospect before I can get to a good spot on her. 

This morning there was a lot of shooting from the hunters starting about 530a.m.  I don't know what kind of gun they use but it sounds like a cannon.  It even upsets the dogs in the house.  Yesterday there must've been a hundred ducks and geese on the lake.  It was beautiful to see, but bittersweet.  I'm trying to make my peace with the hunting.  As much as Mom would've hated it, I know Dad would've been okay about it.  He was an avid bird hunter, driving across country with his setter in the trunk (those were certainly different days, weren't they?) to Oklahoma every year for the dove or quail season.  And I am my father's daughter.  So, woman-up, I guess.  (I never see the sense in the phrase "man-up". )