My Mules

Is he smiling? I think he's smiling.

Naked Neck Mule.

Today I began the spring ritual of haircuts for the boys! Flea hadn't been touched with a pair of clippers since we owned him years ago, so I wasn't sure how he would react. Little bugger stood right there for me, no halter, no lead, and let me clip and clip and clip away. I only managed his face, neck, and ears before I had to give up. I only have a small pair of clippers and that yak coat of his calls for something a wee bit more powerful. Fargo was excellent for his yearly mane roaching. I'm lucky with him; he sheds out beautifully on his own and doesn't require body clipping.

The miniature YAK. Holy hair, Flea!

The boys aren't that impressed with their new hay pillows.

Much fuzz.

I've taken to calling Flea "GoatBeard". I sing him a song about his long, luxurious goat beard, his warm and fuzzy goat beard, his soft and silky goat beard...and he loves it. Then he bites me. Little ass.