The Farmyard Madonna

Meet Gorgeous Gus . . . well, that's what Jools called this goat when we spotted her during our afternoon travels. For once, I had to disagree. To me she looked gormless. Sweet, perhaps, but definitely gormless.

Jools sneers . . .

Chastened, I look again. And, yes, I can see it. There is a charm, beauty even. Just look at that enigmatic smile unfolding from those pearly-white teeth. Gus isn't gormless, she's a freaking Farmyard Madonna . . .

Now my mind wanders . . . If we took her to the Louvre and hung her on the wall in place of the real Madonna, would anyone notice?

Gus gives me a look that says, "You're not hanging me on any bloody wall, matey. I'm outa here," and trots off to her stable.

"Now look what you've done," says Jools and she stalks off in the other direction.

I sigh deeply and follow.