Not Another Bloody Goat!: The Goatlady of Les Penins

By Lois Tuffield

Between April 2007 and August 2009, I wrote a blog on Myspace.comwhich describedmy life in rural France with an increasing number of pets and other animals. My family and friends found the articlesamusing and entertaining,so I have edited those blogs to tell a story with photographs, whichI hope will appeal to a wider audience of francophile animal-lovers.

The book title reflects my husband'sexasperation when I turned up with yet 'another bloody goat'.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Jun 11, 2010
• ISBN: 9781481770101

Lois Tuffield

Lois is a retired mathematics teacher who lives in the Vienne region of Western France with her husband, seven cats, seven goats, a dog, chickens, and a wide variety of other birds. She writes short stories as well as non-fiction articles, and is currently preparing a bi-lingual vegetarian recipe book. She is also trying to complete a novel about the ex-pat community in France. Following several operations to eradicate thyroid cancer Lois  has a paralysed vocal chord which makes speech difficult. This is why, at the age of sixty, she decided to communicate through writing instead of the spoken word. She has two daughters and two step-sons.

Book preview

© 2010 Lois Tuffield. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

First published by AuthorHouse 6/8/2010

ISBN: 978-1-4520-0125-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4817-7010-1 (ebook)

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Contents

PROLOGUE

DEDICATION

Chapter 1

LES PENINS

Chapter 2

EARLY SPRING

Chapter 3

GOATS AND BANTAMS

Chapter 4

JACK AND JILL

Chapter 5

SUMMER

CHapter 6

AUTUMN

Chaper 7

FARM BUILDINGS

Chapter 8

PAULA LA POITEVINE

Chapter 9

NEW YEAR

Chapter 10

KIDS

chapter 11

CATS

Chapter 12

SPRING AGAIN

Chapter 13

KITTENS

Chapter 14

ANOTHER BLOODY GOAT

POST SCRIPT

PROLOGUE

In 2003 I was diagnosed with thyroid cancer. After many operations to eradicate it, I was left with a paralysed vocal chord, and therefore unable to continue working as a mathematics teacher.

Having cancer causes many people to take stock of their lives and in some cases, results in a total life change. This is what happened to us. John and I were married on Valentine’s Day 2004 and moved house to live in France that summer.

The following narrative formed part of a diary I kept to record our life in La Vienne. It began as a blog on Myspace.com in April 2007 and kept my family and friends entertained for two years.

The Vienne is a department in western France which forms part of the Poitou-Charrente Region.

Poitiers is the main city of the department. Other towns, closer to us, and of particular interest include:

Montmorillon (famed for its book trade); St Savin (with its world-famous frescoes in the Abbey); and Chauvigny (with its medieval castle).

The Rivers Gartempe and Vienne make sure that this a well-watered, fertile region. Maize, sunflowers, oilseed rape and wheat are the predominant crops. The summers are hotter than in UK, and, possibly, the winters are colder. The coast is a two hour drive away to the west.

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DEDICATION

For my long-suffering husband, John

Who, on seeing me return from market with a smile on my face,

uttered those memorable words

Not another bloody goat Lois!

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Chapter 1

LES PENINS

Arrival in France and the animals at the start of our life here.

Ours is the last house at the end of a narrow country road. Sometimes it feels as if the world ends here as well, because it is so quiet! Then a tractor will rumble past, or the postman will call, and we are reminded that civilisation is not far away. Obviously there is no through traffic, unless it is a farmer going to tend his fields. Occasionally people get lost, and because there isn’t a sign to indicate the road is a cul de sac, they are forced to turn around in our gateway while we look on. Incidentally, although cul de sac is used in English to indicate a dead end road, the French use the word impasse. (cul is a rude word!)

Les Penins is a collection of five houses forming a hamlet, and they are all inhabited by French people (apart from us). None of the houses is named so we all have the same address, but everybody will tell you which one is ours if you mention the eccentric English woman who is mad about animals.

Let me describe our property to you as it will help you to picture everything I talk about in the coming pages.

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The house, known as a longère is over two hundred years old and used to be a farmhouse with arable land surrounding it. It has been extended over the years and now has three bedroom and three bathrooms. Originally, animals would have lived in one end with a family in the other, or perhaps, people upstairs with animals below. In the days before central heating, the heat from the cows would rise and keep a family warm in winter. There used to be a hayloft on the first floor and this has now been converted into our bedroom.

Outside, across the yard, is a large barn with wooden floors upstairs and loads of space; it’s nearly as big as the house. Through the main gate and on the other side of the road are two little outbuildings, each divided in to two sections. In one, there is a bread oven, where long ago, bread would have been made for the farmer, all his dependants, and possibly the rest of the hamlet.

The south side of the house is the farmyard, where we park our cars. Vegetables and lawn take up the eastern end. We have a big chicken run behind the barn, and a nice swimming pool on the north side. The summers can be very hot here and the luxury of being able to cool down in a pool is very welcome.

As soon as we agreed to buy the house we started planning what animals we could have there and chickens featured mainly on the list. Both my husband John, and myself, are real animal lovers, and will give sanctuary to any stray in need of care. His sons have described us as ‘a soft touch’ when it comes to generosity.

THE MOVE

The move from England in 2004 was planned with military precision. Apart from the usual household goods, we had a lot of living things. There were two cats; Penfold, an exceedingly old and grumpy cat, and Charley-Farley who is a delightful black & white moggy. Then two dogs, a Springer spaniel called Pip and an all-sorts -big -terrier type called Sam. Those four were no problem, we gave the cats sedatives from the vet and they slept for most of the fourteen-hour journey. The dogs were used to the car and just assumed they were going for a walk at some stage. All four had to be inoculated against rabies, and micro chipped for identification. We had two cars to take, so I drove the felines and John took the canines.

In addition to our four-legged friends, we had two Amazon parrots named Albert and Amelie, a talking conure called Colin and a pair of lovebirds. These six lived indoors in large cages, but to travel, we placed them in cat carrying boxes. Ignominious! They were ok when it was dark, because birds just sleep at night time, but they squawked alarmingly in the daylight. I covered them up, to make them think it was still night time when the noise got too bad. Two very kind friends helped us transport most of the birds but I took Colin the conure who never stops talking! He babbled on for much of the journey, telling my daughter (who shared the driving and the angst), and myself that he was a ‘pretty boy’ and a ‘special baby’. It’s a pity I hadn’t taught him to ask ‘are we nearly there yet?’ The vet had to check over all the birds within the 24hour period before leaving the UK, and so we were armed with all the necessary paperwork as I drove up to the customs post.

I have some animals in the car, I explained. Two cats and a bird, I continued. At which point, a little voice from the back seat said Hello, how are you? Anna and I fell about laughing, but the customs officer kept a straight face and waved us through. He didn’t even check my documentation.

John with his son Tom, drove down to join us in the Vienne with our dogs next day. In addition to Amelie