When they’ve been sheared, the goats wear coats for a couple of weeks. It’s just to allow enough time for their wool to grow out a little bit so they won’t get cold. Immediately following a shearing, the other goats seem to pretend not to recognise their colleague underneath her new look; each sheared member of the flock has to reestablish her position in the heirarchy. Being the smallest, Vesla has the hardest time. You would think that being bottom of the heap would mean she doesn’t have much of a position to reestablish, but it doesn’t work that way. She gets butted for a day or two and has to take part in lots of five-minute challenge matches.
With this in mind, a few years ago my wife made Vesla a special coat from some zebra-striped fabric she’d bought on sale in Olso. When the others saw her, they absolutely freaked. ‘What the hell is this?’ they seemed to be saying, while Vesla trotted around going ‘I’m a zebra, I’m a zebra’. It worked very well. This is the only picture I can find of Vesla in her zebra coat. You can see the effect better on Alma, who got one too.
A Bad Guide 
Lovely coats. I like them both. Please congratulate Mrs. Crown on her great job of matching the stripes on Alma’s vest – a tricky thing to do.
I just wanted to add that the zebra material was put on to an old long-gone wool jacket. In Vesla’s case it was also padded to make her look bigger.
That’s one of the best stories I’ve ever heard. Goats! Is there any day they can’t brighten?
Even better, Mrs. Crown!
The coats ARE lovely, and I love the idea of zebra-coated goats gamboling around the north. Goats are just so interesting. Not to mention so — okay, I can’t help it, here it comes — so — I wish I could contain myself, but I can’t — just so darn cute.
Poor zebra, see what you did to him. If I were a goat in the Crown family, I’d be worried.
I’m resigned to living with cuteness. All our animals seem to look vaguely like teddy bears or other children’s huggable toys; one of the hens has feathers on her legs and feet for added cuteness. The parrot is an exception, but he has anthropomorphic qualities: pacing up and down when he’s cross, for example.
Yes, they’re all like stuffed animals that have come to life. BTW, I’ve sent some of the goat photos with translations of your comments to various Russian speakers. I’m happy to say that you and your family (inclusive) are developing a Russian fan club. Everybody wants a house goat.
How kind of you to translate it. You ought to give them to the goat woman in the park. If she’s got room for a goat she’s maybe got email, don’t you think?
Maybe we should do a special Russian post.
Siganus, those are not zebra skins, just fabric printed to look like zebra stripes.
I haven’t seen the goat lady recently, which means either 1) she’s changed the time of her furtive night walk through the park; 2) she’s out at the dacha; or 3) the neighbors complained. I’m not convinced the goat was trained to use a goat-litter box, although now I see I’ve underestimated goat abilities.
Do you think she really might have a dacha? It would explain a lot.