Rhymes with ‘pistols’.

Unless you are a donkey, in which case it rhymes with ‘breakfast’.

Some folks think they are a nuisance.  The goats and donkey eat them up.  The sheep not so much.

Some of them get really big, especially when they are outside the fence-line (there loose lips cannot reach).

In springtime all the interesting plants come out to play.  Tender and tasty.  The Poison Ivy is gone from our fields – all eaten by the goats.  Wild Brambles?  Gone too.   And a strong fence around the cultivated ones.

If you have scrub to clear, there is nothing than goats, donkeys and some time.

Gotta go move the fence out…