When I was a child on the farm, we frequently had goats, enormously vivacious and entertaining creatures. Even when grown, they still maintain their curiosity and energy, climbing and bounding around. The kids are irrestible, never tiring of butting, play fighting, and romping until they exhaust themselves, then falling in a heap to sleep. It always amazed me, the way they butted their mothers so rudely while nursing. The wonder of it was, as the kids aged, we always had adorable new kids to play with.
Once, we had a nanny who lost her kid at the same time another kid was orphaned. The obvious answer was to have her adopt the orphan. Daddy rubbed the orphan with her dead kid, then forced her to let the adopted kid nurse. It was difficult going for a few feedings, but once she accepted the kid, she didn’t want it out of her sight. She followed it at play, bleating, unlike the other nannies who enjoyed the herd’s company, glad to let their mischievous offspring romp. She continued to nurse that kid up until after she had another, when they had to be separated, to keep from starving the new kid.