“It” is goat food. Everyone is crazy for it.

Inca and Malachi look up at me expectantly when I lift the lid on the goat food bin – they hope a few morsels will fall onto the floor when I scoop out the delicious muesli-type mix. Not only does it look good, it smells good.The full scoop goes onto the wheelbarrow, along with vegetable scraps and an armful of fresh hay, and the three goats watch as I wheel it over to them. Also on the alert are the chickens, which race over to the goat pen, usually before me; they anticipate the greedy goats will squabble over the feast, which invariably they do, and groats and grains come flying out of the pan; and the chooks and the dogs are there to oblige with cleaning up operations. Even the nasty cockerel that chases me likes goat food – he goes inside with the goats, in the hope of fairing better than the better mannered hens.

I’m convinced that Harry the pig, aswell, would love goat food but he has his own pellets and vegetables so he hasn’t tried the feast yet (to my knowledge).

llamas and alpacas love goat food even more than their special pellets (they have run low and goat food is more than acceptable!). Furthermore, they adore me for bringing it out to them. Where once they were a little shy of the newcomer to the farm, now they line up by the fence and flutter their long lashes at me; and as soon as they see the goat food they move in, sometimes ignoring the pecking order. Incidentally, these pretty animals have velvety soft mouths, and although their teeth are rather large, they never bite.

Even the little sheep that was thought to be dead three days ago – her left eye pecked at by birds while she lay on her side in the field – even she loves goat food. Happily, she is making a good recovery and ate the goat food with great gusto at breakfast-time this morning.

It appears that the only one on the farm, apart from me, not interested in goat food is Horsey, who is, of course, a cat.