["Dumb goat friends" is a phrase that most people would use to describe the goats at a distance, staring stupidly in their direction. Opening their mouths to make the occasionally doltish sound. But Henry has the gift of holding a grudge, you see, and he remembers one of those goats via its markings. One that snubbed him at a goat race so soon after he newly arrived in Abraxas.

Yes, he remembers you, Mr. Goat. His smile thins and his gesture narrows to point a finger at the one standing in the middle of the small group.]

Yes. Idiotic goat friends. That one there, you see? The black one with little white spots on its backside. I call that one Number Seven. [Don't ask.] And I know he'll give us trouble.

[Baa! says Number Seven at a distance, flicking an ear.]