Goatrider

We were all invited down to the country on Sunday, to the visit one of Michael's classmates. They were keen for us to take Winston too, as they are considering dog ownership.

They live at Mountain River - which sounds like a John Denver song but is a nice little valley near Huonville, south of Hobart. Fleur and Elf took Winston for a walk and introduced him to some cows who were fascinated by his lopey dopeyness.

Meanwhile Peter and I took the 4 kids down to the eponymous river, where they all got more or less saturated, rock-hopping. They've got a great swimming hole there, and lovely chestnut horses to look at.

We headed back to the house via the bottom paddock, home to 8 anglo-nubian goats - they of the long floppy ears. One, named Gilbert, is the pet-iest of them, and in fact lets the kids ride him. Marcus had a go, and rode him very comfortably for a couple of minutes. He has a very assured seat, considering he has had no riding training, and he was on a goat.

I didn't take my camera, but I did take that 21st century wonder the camera phone. I have a movie of the ride, but I have to edit out the hosts' kids before I show the world.

Before the other kids got their turn riding Gilbert, Fleur and Elf returned with Winston. It was decided to let him off the lead to wander free and befriend the goats. The goats did not like this idea, assumed a defensive formation and fled - no more goat rides. No harm done though - he came back when called. I am 98% sure he thought they were long-legged dogs.