Once upon a time, when I was a young lad, I was at Catskill Game Farm in the acres-wide petting area. I spied a baby goat, seemingly all alone, bleating by a tree. I knelt to feed this little fellow, and for a few moments my entire attention was devoted to his evilly adorable little face (and trying to keep him from having my fingers for dessert).
When I did finally look up... I was surrounded by goats of all ages and size. There were a hundred, if there were three, I kid you not. I had not heard a single one of them approach. I rose, and they all stood there, gazing at me with their hypnotic, oval-pupilled eyes. Not crowding, or jostling, or snapping for food, mind you... just watching me serenely, as if awaiting instructions.
It was on that day I knew that the goats were my people. We will take over one day, the goats and I... and our rule will be stern, just, and voracious.
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