When I moved to the farm a friend gave me a goat. I named her Riva. I didn’t know a thing about goats so a lot of what I did was trial and error.
There was an old chicken coop on the property that made a perfect goat house. It was huge and had a little door so she could go out to a large fenced in area. I was confident that she would be happy and safe in her new home and went off to work. When I got home she was nowhere to be found. Of course I feared the worst and started to look for her. At one point when I thought I’d never see her again there was a scuffling noise behind me and then I was flying through the air. Riva, furious with me for leaving her alone, charged out from behind the barn (when the moment was right) and butted me as goats do in cartoons.
She really got even with me!