Here he is
His tale is similar.
My dad got him and tied him to a doghouse up at his cabin thinking that "goats eat everything" and the poor little guy would eat all the weeds around the pond.
Well, he didn't.
He just stood up there, alone, terrified and crying.
Hubby and I kept sneaking up after dark and feeding him oats and corn so he wouldn't starve.
When winter came, I "generously" offered to babysit him so dad wouldn't have to tend him during the cold winter months.
Spring came and my dad said "I'll be coming to get the goat next week" and I said "No you won't".
He's now the most pampered, spoiled persnickety little guy you'll ever meet.
He's gotten so bad that he won't eat his goat chow unless I put 6 animal crackers on the top, first...:)
I have to take new pictures of him.
He now sports a new reflective Hunter-Orange rollover 'hound' collar instead of that horrible ratty nylon thing dad put on him.