Running with the Goats

Fiesta San Fermin has nothing on Spencertown. Bulls? Sheesh... those clumsy, ill mannered clods.

So, anyway, I'm out for my morning run, nice and warmed up when I hear this bleat. (No, not that Bleat and the sound of hooves.

Turning, I see a four foot high goat clomping along a perfect 10 feet behind. I stop, the goat stops. I run, the goat runs. Same pace. Same head down, let's get this over with attitude.

So, I get to my turn around point, turn around, the goat turns around, only now, he wants to lead. I try to pass, he nudges me to the side. Other side, same thing. I finally sprint by, and sure enough, he falls a perfect 10 feet behind.

Nice.