Owner tethered her in our garden,
but the rope kept breaking, the pin kept pulling out.
She had eaten all the strawberry plants
before I waged my war.
Owner went away for a week
and asked me to milk her goat.
I was glared at, kicked and butted.
‘Your goat doesn’t like me,’ I said.
‘That must be because she knows
you resent her.’
I had a healthy dislike of them both
with their baleful attitudes.
Two white females.
I can’t remember their names.