There were two dogs with the man: one, a rangy young mastiff type who seemed to do nothing but make sure the cars didn’t get too near, and the other, an unattractive, but very efficient, blue-grey border collie.
The goats themselves were rather fine examples of the sort of animal I’d expect to be at the head of the ranks of the Royal Welch Fusiliers. The mastiff explains why I didn’t take a close-up.
don't confuse the narrator 