This is Billy:
Last year he was my arch enemy, my Sauron, my Moriarty, my Skeletor. He and his harem chomped, stomped and sharpened their horns on anything green they could find. They were worthy opponents; lithe, agile, intelligent, witty and with proper respect for a good scratch between the horns. I cursed them and threatened them with curry, but we had a certain mutual affection underneath all the swearing and chasing and should anyone have approached them with a jar of cumin and a pan I would have come to their defence immediately.
This year they are restrained in Goat Alcatraz (a cunning construction involving hurdles tied to the tops of the fences to stop them jumping out) and poor old Bill is having to do without roses in his diet.
But some other creatures have stepped up to the plate:
Lambs. Yes, this years batch of bottle fed lambs are escapologists. Does having a lamb as my current Nemesis du jour make me evil? It certainly lacks style.
Do you have a gardening Nemesis? A creature whose assault upon your greenery has been especially heinious? A rascal with whom you would struggle on the brink of a waterfall in defence of your patch of Earth? A fiend who haunts your very dreams?