The Hungry Goat

Where I grew up, most houses are surrounded by a barbed wire fence to keep the livestock away from the garden. There is a drive to the house, and where it passes through the fence, there is a guard, variously called a cattle-guard, a cow-stop, or a cow-trap.

Only here in a Northern Emirate, I haven't seen any cows (though I've been told there are some on the road leading out of the Emirate). All the livestock that I've seen wandering around the compound where I'm working have been caprine. So the relevant device at the entrance to the compound must be a goat-guard, though it almost trips me up as I leave the compound, so I guess it's almost (but not quite) a dubai@random-guard.

Today, the goat-guard seemed to be effective: a hungry goat stood in front of it all day long, bleating pitifully, as it gazed longingly at the contents of the compound's extensive gardens of succulent hollyhocks and other flora.

I guess it's gotten tired of stripping the thorny local trees and emptying the local bins. And I can't say that I blame it.