Monkey is Missing

Have not seen Monkey (Velvet) for three days. It was Matt who first noticed she was not lying on top of the picnic table, or lounging under the pine tree with the dogs and her other goatie friends. He adores Monkey. With the frenzy of the farmer's market, and the sudden passing of Jasper, AND the welcome deluge of hay to get in the barn, her absence was not noticed. Matt is afraid she got caught under the bales being tossed from the elevator. On one hand I can believe it. When Matt first used the elevator he neglected to go up in the hay mow and move my sofa and precious stereo unit (I was living in there) and they were both smashed by cascading bales. On the other hand, the bales come in one at a time and Monkey was very quick on her feet. I can't imagine her letting one hit her, and, if it did, wouldn't she run away? I went up there yesterday and started moving bales, calling her name, listening for goatie sounds, but nothing. Just little Lincoln answering me with his own little bleats. I am almost certain she was picked off by a coyote, or a cougar (mountain lion). The Wild West Exotic Hunters next to me at the farmer's market told me they set up cameras to see what's roaming around their "preserve." They taped a cougar one night, stalking the bait they put out. They live just a few miles from me. The sheep stay in the middle of the field, but the goats love to go into the apple orchard and roam around the woods at the bottom of the ridge. There are thousands of empty acres behind the ridge. Little Barack Obama is missing, too. What the hell do I have all these dogs for????? Where was Chris? Probably gone to bed under the pine tree himself. I know, I know, I can't let dogs roam or I will be back in court again. The only thing I can do to keep the sheep and goats all together, with loose dogs in there to protect them, would be to get hard fencing. Not as much fun for the sheep and goats, but they will be alive. I went out to get them last night - no more all night grazing - and the moonless night was just perfect for picking off livestock. Poor Monkey, I hope it was over quickly for her. She would make a feast for a pack of coyotes, as fat as she is. I love wild things, and I love living where wild things live, but I have to do a better job of protecting them. I miss my little Monkey. She loved to walk with me up to the pond, that little head with the blue eyes moving back and forth with her clip clops on the path, stopping to nibble on this flower and that plant. She was so dear to me. I wrote about her story before, how she was born to my dearest Celeste, who rejected her in favor of her twin, who I still have but isn't friendly. Monkey was found lying cold and stiff on the barn floor, then warmed in a laundry basket on the over door overnight. She stood up on Easter morning announcing that she decided to live and where's my bottle? Eaten by varmints? Oh, please, let me not even imagine it.