The Goat, Hamish

by Sam Neill

It became clear a year or two ago  to all and sundry, that Billy, goat of distinction, by appointment, etc. was without a friend of his own kind; he has an irrational hatred of sheep, even though from a distance, he could pass himself off as a woolly ruminant, rather than a hairy one. An easy mistake – you would imagine they had much in common
– a fondness for grass, a ruminant nature, four legs, a bleaty kind of voice and so on.

Wrong. Sheep and goats. Chalk and cheese. Oil and water. Beer and wine.

So, as a kindness, a companion was sought, and found. Another goat.

Not just any goat. A Boer Goat. The name betrays its Southern African origins. And possibly its temperament.

In short, Hamish is an entertaining goat. If you like that sort of thing. If you don’t he’s a pain in the neck. Hamish has no respect for a fence, for instance, and can sail over the highest fence with elan, and feet to spare. Now, while all our animals and birds roam free range, there is a limit. It is not acceptable to soar into the Riesling at harvest time, eat grapes and most of the vines they are on.

Accordingly Hamish has been warned, and warned severely. Any more of this, and he’ll be gifted to the goat farm down the road.

Come to think of it, maybe that’s what he’s been working on all this time? Probably sounds like fun to him. Hmmm...