I live in Wisconsin. In Wisconsin, cattle are routinely shot during hunting season, because apparently some hunters can't tell the difference between this:
And, sadly, humans are also occassional victims of hunting accidents. So VikingDad wore blaze orange and I wore lime green, because I couldn't find any more blaze orange. As we walked, we held hands and conversed rather loudly, so as not to be mistaken for anything other than human. I lamented that my rainbow beanie wasn't here yet, as that could not have been mistaken for deer colors. VikingDad pointed out that it might get me shot deliberately, though. True enough.
My face was freezing. There hadn't yet been snow this season (it was mid-November- weird!) but it was still fairly cold, and my cheeks and part of my lips were numb. Which meant that, whenever VikingDad said something funny, I smiled and basically looked like a dental patient.
It was at that moment I really wished I had a beard. I was really jealous of VikingDad's ability to control his facial muscles in the cold. But, regardless of my lack of shaving, I have never been able to grow a beard. At most, I can manage one solitary black hair on my chin and that shit looks ridiculous and does nothing to protect me from the cold. I totally need one of these:
As our walk was coming to a close and none of us had gotten shot, I was about to call it a success. Unfortunately, as we passed by the neighbors', we saw their horses walking around in the pasture. We saw what looked like a foal nursing off its mother, and the mother horse try to fight it off, but upon closer inspection we realized that it was not a foal at all- it was a goat!
When the goat saw us, he came bounding up towards us. The horses did too, but a horse will approach a human eagerly but at a normal speed. A goat approaches a human like a race car careening out of control. It was an Alpine buck and it looked something like this:
Not only that, but, at this time of year, bucks are in rut. This applies to deer and goat bucks. When a goat buck approaches you, you can smell his disgusting goat musk a mile away. It's really powerful stuff, enough to make your eyes water sometimes. (But the girl goats like it... I guess?) This particular buck didn't have a powerful enough stench to make our eyes water, but he was still stinky. And he easily cleared the neighbor's fence and walked right up to us on the road.
Bucks in rut think about only one thing: sex. For pretty much any non-pet animal, the drive to have sex when they are fertile is a huge, powerful force of nature. At times, it's easier to stop a hurricane than to stop a horny animal.
Now, this goat did not jump up and try to hump us (thank gods). Goat bucks raised as pets are interesting creatures. They know they are interested in humans, that humans bring them food and are generally nice to be around. In their weird little brains, they may or may not understand that humans are different from goats. Often they will attack humans to fight, occasionally to fuck. Sometimes they just want food. Sometimes they will leave humans alone entirely.
A buck goat in rut will basically go after female goats in heat, and search them out whenever possible. However, if they are denied females in heat, they will hump whatever they have available to them. Being goat owners ourselves, we were basically watching him to see what he would do. Who knows! That's the beauty of living around farm animals.
This goat decided to follow us. We eyed him warily. At any moment he could charge us. He decided that he wanted to follow VikingDad over me. That was fine with me! VikingDad turned around and led him down the road back to the neighbor's house. The goat followed VikingDad like a child. Weird, but goats are unpredictable sometimes. I followed behind them both, not wanting to attract the goat's attention. When the two got to the driveway, they sauntered up the driveway to the neighbor's house and VikingDad knocked on the door. Four tiny little corgis dashed out of the house to scamper about our feet as we talked to the neighbor. I caught up to the two of them, and suddenly the goat decided I was way too interesting for my liking. He decided to wheel about and come after me, making unmistakably horny goat noises.
So what did I do? I slapped him across the nose.
OK, so I told you that sometimes it's easier to stop a hurricane than a randy animal? This goat was undeterred. He approached me again. So I slapped him again. In the nose, because that's the most likely to deter a goat. (Bopped him, really, I didn't want to hurt him, just make him back off.) So, while the neighbors looked on and some oblivious corgis frolicked around, I was basically bitch-slapping their goat. After the third slap, he got the hint. The neighbors got a rope and tied him to a tree, and at the same time a pair of lovely lady Alpine goats came out of the woods to occupy the buck's attention.
So we walked back to the road, and the corgis started following me around like little children.
Oh great.
So we stuck around while the neighbors corralled their corgis, which was entertaining because we basically watched a grown woman running after tiny happy little fluffballs that were scurrying around on stumpy legs. And then, finally, we finished our walk in peace, thankful to be unmolested.
