Clearly frightened by goats…

I believe the picture sums it up nicely.

The bulk of my time yesterday at SuperEx was spent in the Aberdeen Pavillion (a.k.a. Cattle Castle). I wanted to get some shots of the Connemara pony and Irish dog breed shows. Unfortunately, the day’s schedule was running behind and the two groups that so generously donated their time and their animals never even made it into the main ring to strut their stuff. But I suppose it wasn’t a total loss, because people seemed to enjoy simply visiting and petting the animals – myself included.

If you put me in a room full of ponies and dogs, I’m pretty much reduced to the ‘wet-your-pants’ state of a five year old. Throw the cutest miniature ponies in the world into the mix and I’m absolute putty. At the risk of sounding like a princess…I LOVE ponies and I want one! Even Dan conceded that a miniature pony would be the perfect addition to the family. One shrill little whinny and he was sold. We have already staked out the perfect place for grazing in the field behind our yard - ponies can graze on city property…right…?

As if all the pony cuteness wasn’t enough, the pavilion was also filled with a variety of other fluffy bundles of sweetness. Of particular amusement, there were goats everywhere! Now I will readily admit that I am slightly apprehensive when it comes to goats. They seem a little too shifty-eyed and curious for my liking. Experience has taught me that goats, especially those of the petting zoo variety, will pretty much nibble whatever is put in front of their face, be that hair, clothing or cameras. They also have a somewhat precarious nature; you can never be too sure of what they're thinking or plotting. I know it sounds paranoid but I have my reasons for distrust. When I was in high school my friend Rob and I were at a leadership camp held at a farm. One day we decided to pay a visit to some of the local livestock. When we came to the fenced animal enclosure, we saw a pathetic little horned goat with his head stuck sideways in the gate. Of course we felt horrible and decided to help the poor little guy out of his predicament. Rob hopped the fence and gingerly helped the goat to tilt its head until he was able to slide it out of the gate. His reward for his heroic efforts - a swift ram to the posterior, horns and all. Since then I’ve never looked at a goat the same way. They have all been tarred with the same unfortunate brush - painted as ‘sketchy’.

With some gentle coaxing from hubby, I finally confronted by long-standing distrust of goats. As you can see above, he thought that the special moment warranted a picture. Okay, so I still look somewhat terrified but I least I petted the little buggers. By take two (pictured below) I started to relax a little. Too bad he didn’t snap this shot three seconds later as another goat suddenly barged his head through the fence right next to my face…game over.