Each day that he greets me at the front gate is a gift. His crippled joints are catching up to him, but he gets up everyday and follows me to the hay barn where he spends as long as he needs to eat his breakfast in peace, unencumbered from other goats or boisterous lambs. He teeters and totters and there might soon come a day when I must help him to comfort. So today I sang him this song.
