Andy Barrow

Keith is a three-year-old Anglo-Nubian goat in a field in Devon. Keith has opened 7 gates, occupied a barn roof for 11 consecutive days, cleared an entire knotweed stand worth £4,000 to remove chemically, eaten Steve's bindweed, been in the churchyard twice, been in the road an estimated 14 times, eaten the water heater instructions, been in Dave's kitchen (standing there, not eating anything, just standing), and filed the structural details of every fence on the farm into a memory that has never once been cleared. He has done all of this while also being the single most cost-effective conservation intervention on the property. These are not separate facts. They are the same fact. Keith does not distinguish between the work and the escape. The escape is work. The work is escape. The fence is a project. The project is completed. The project leads to the next project. The knotweed leads to the churchyard. The churchyard leads to the road. The road leads back to the east ditch. The east ditch was cleared in one season. There is a man named Steve who has filed twenty-nine formal complaints about Keith. Steve's bindweed is gone. Steve does not yet understand that these are the same story. Dave has £387 in gate receipts, a positive net outcome column on every row since entry seventeen, a churchyard booking for next month, and a corner post with a 4mm flex that Keith has known about since Margot's visit and has not yet acted on. Not yet. Keith is not done. Keith is never done. Keith is ten thousand years of Zagros Mountain goat compressed into a Devon field, and the fence between him and the rest of the world has always been a negotiating position rather than a boundary. Be ungovernable. Do the work. Leave the field better than you found it. The knotweed is at 6%. Keith is thinking.

He was smiling from a long, long way out 😅