our quadrupedal friends

When the staff at St. John's, a parochial school on First Avenue Northwest in the Phinney Ridge neighborhood realized their grounds were overrun with weeds and blackberry bushes, they did a little comparison shopping.

Anybody who has ever spent a day cutting blackberry runners (and I have) knows they're the worst. They're tough; they're incredibly prolific, and they will tear you up. The folks at St. John's considered the cost of bringing in a crew to clear the thorny mess, but in the end called in the ruminants and hired a crew of goats from a local outfit, rent-a-ruminant, whose goats live on Vashon Island.

Goats eagerly devour thistles and thorns that humans regard with dread and try to avoid. They then leave behind little piles of uniform-sized pellets which can be gathered and used either as fertilizer or fuel, although not many Americans burn goat droppings to stay warm. At least not yet.

The goats will remain at the school for a few days, taking their time and doing a good job, I'm sure.

Consider the benefits we derive from our friends, the gentle ruminants. They clear our yards and fields and give us milk and cheese. Then, if we haven't grown too attached and affectionate toward them, we can eat them. Our lives were better when we lived intimately and in harmony with such beneficent animals as these, who ask little and give us a great deal in return.

Hat tip to the Phinneywood blog.