Getting your Goat

Well, there you go… or maybe you don’t….

After all, I am not privy to your travel arrangements… and I – for one – firmly believe that what you do when you get there is entirely your own business and providing the goat doesn’t complain, what business is it of anyone else’s… apart from the various goat welfare charities, of course?

Still, I suppose – in this day and age – it is always nice to have a hobby to take one away from the stresses and strains of our ordinary tedious daily grind.

Although, I’m not sure the goat would agree….

However, and I feel this is a rather salient point, if it wasn’t for your… er… shall we say ‘romantic attachment’ then the goat would not be where she is today and would, no doubt, be stuck outside in some isolated field somewhere in all weathers, rather than residing in comfort and luxury in a penthouse suite at one of the capital’s most exclusive hotels. But then, as the official ruminant consort of one of the richest, most influential and litigious of this country’s cadre of super-wealthy oligarchs, it is the only truly fitting place of residence for her.

And – as I said – even before your team of top lawyers arrived, bearing writs – it is all entirely your own business and no concern of anyone else’s what you and your special goat do with and to each other.