The old billy watched us in the woods a couple of weeks ago, it looked as though he’d lost the will to live. I walked up to within a few metres before he stood and walked slowly away; no injury, so I suspected he’d been ousted as head of the gang and was destined to a celibate retirement.
But not so. Early in the morning the sound of screaming goats came through our bedroom window with the now 8-strong gang foraging in the branches beyond the veg patch. A new billy was there but keeping his distance from the old billy with his enormous horns who was definitely in charge. At first he focussed his attentions on the grey female before giving up and wooing one of the others. What a Casanova.