About 3 weeks ago, on two consecutive days, the Tierra del Sol gardeners delivered two baby-goats to Ann Brown. Ann as you might know, is the golf-course director of operations. The kids were perhaps a few hours old, left to fend for themselves in the wilderness, probably abandoned by their mothers, the remains of their umbilical cords still attached.
The course gardeners stumbled upon the orphans as they went about their daily chores. They allowed the newly-borns a few hours to happily reunite with their families-of-origins and as nothing transpired delivered the bleating bundles to the executive office. Tucked in a box, carefully seat-belted into the back of the BMW, Ann stopped at Santa Rosa for goats' milk on her way home. First time out, she had to force feed her new charges who had no idea what a nipple is for. One learned quite fast, the other Ann says, a slow-learner on spindly, wobbly legs whose nose was running incessantly, just recently caught on.
The Browns report the foundlings are very different in nature. While one gambols and cavorts confidently, the other, an obvious runt, picks his way gingerly, nose to the ground. David, Ann’s husband, a top Coastal executive takes turns feeding every four hours, but I understand Ann is the one who gets up nights! The family dog, a jolly retriever was very welcoming and warm. Dijan helps raise the baby, which will one day be released, at Tierra Del Sol, hopefully before Ann’s beautiful garden is demolished. They will become members of the resident four-legged grass grazers club. Anyway, with goat milk as main course and potted plats for dessert Bill & Hilary are doing exceptionally well, no more running nose, just thriving little eating machines. Pictured here, Bill feeding, Hilary, playing mountain goat on Ann back and David's shoulders . . .
