When I went out to feed the animals last night Bertie was lying on his side unmoving. I thought he might just be being lazy, but closer inspection revealed that he was in fact dead. I’d really thought he was getting better, he’s mostly been getting up on his own, and I was thinking that fairly soon he’d be back out in the fields. I suspect the very cold weather took it’s toll and he was relatively old for a goat, at somewhere between seven and a half and eight years old, but still very sad to see him go.
I often called him Bertholemew, on the basis that was obviously his full name. He was always a friendly goat, and not just after food all the time. He used to wander after us when we went for a walk in the field at non-feeding times, and he charmed a number of our visitors over the years. We will definitely miss him.
Here he is a couple of days ago:
And here’s how he looked shortly after he arrived in May 2006, chomping at the grass with Boris (on the right) – the shed in the background was destroyed only weeks later by Bertie, who for some reason took a distinct dislike to it and battered it down: