Tanglebriar Nubians

Since it was the first breeding season for my new little herd, I was thinking about planning for the future, and needing more genetic diversity in the herd, as Reason and Fancy are full sisters. I had been talking with Amanda Harmon at Marmalade Farms about purchasing a little doe who caught my eye, Marmalade Spice, after Renegade went back home, as I didn't think it was ethical to introduce a new doe while leasing a buck.  So, Renegade went back home, and the next weekend I planned to pick up Spice.    

Spice was acting a little skittish at her breeder's, but I figured that this was due to her having been in heat the day before, and having been on lockdown as a result of hopping the fence to have an illicit liaison with a grade buckling.   While less than ideal, as I want to breed registered Nubians, Spice could have registered kids other years.  So, we get her loaded in, drive the two hours back home, Spice is starting to get comfortable in the car, and I go to get Spice unloaded.  

Reason, Fancy, and Renegade were a piece of cake, so Spice would be easy, right?  Not so much.  I get a collar on Spice and start bringing her out, Spice gets spooked, turns a flip in midair, I lose my grip as my hand is being twisted in the collar, Spice hits the ground, pops up, takes off down the driveway, detours into the orchard, hits the orchard fence, bounces off, tries again, keeps working her way down the fence.  I am walking up, as you can't run after a fleeing animal, as they they just run faster, hoping that she will get hung up in the fence, as if she does, I figure I can get there in time before she kills herself.  But no, Spice keeps working her way down, and soars over the orchard fence like a bird, white tail flying.  I get to the corner of the orchard fence, where I am stopped, but think, hooray, she will be stopped by the creek, goats hate water.  

But alas, the creek is dry, and I have an excellent view to see Spice take the fence by the road like a steeplechaser, walk out in the middle of the gravel road, turn to look at Ben, my husband, who is walking up, and then bound into the woods and disappear like a deer.  Ben looks at me, says "She's gone", which I agreed with, goes into the woods after her, and then we spend the rest of the afternoon fruitlessly looking for the vanished goat.  We figure that she will be eaten by coyotes that night, and there is no hope for her return, although I personally was also betting on hung up on a fence and dying, then being eaten by coyotes.