It was way past time for Zeekie to have her hooves trimmed . . . trouble is, she will come up to be petted and rubbed—unless she thinks you want to trim her hooves. Then she immediately becomes a wild mountain goat and refuses to let you anywhere near her. Which means, of course, that her hooves were in bad need of trimming.
Once she's caught and restrained (i.e., tied to the tree so she can't get away), she's fine (relatively speaking). She just hates being caught. I did manage to get her collar back on this time. (I still haven't figured out how she got out of it; it was still buckled when I found it.)
Front feet done, now on to the back . . . her patience is wearing thin by now. I didn't get a picture of it, but Bella came up and helpfully tried to eat the rope; then she tried getting between John and Zeekie. After a bit she gave up and wandered off. Frank thought there might possibly be food involved, since I was standing near the corn can, so he stayed put.
All done! And rewarded with a handful of scratch grain, and a scratch between the horns.
Free! She springs away and . . . pees on the rope. Take that! You and your stupid rope!
Never a dull moment . . .