It’s Goat Time!

My last two posts were fueled by natural bitchiness. This one won’t be, I swear. (Not making promises about the next post, though.)

While many people are traveling far and away again for ‘Murica Day weekend, I gotta stay home because I have work later today. But, for once in…I forgot how many years, I rest on July 4th. And that’s a good thing because maybe then I can revisit a hidden local gem I discovered last week. I’d say it’s a brothel deep in the Oakland hills where all the ladies look like a 90s version of Carmen Electra, but it’s actually a field of goats. (No, that’s not code word for a brothel.)

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I do mobile massage and I travel around the East Bay Area for work. You’d think I’d be fed up with driving after my grocery delivery temp job from last year, but I actually like driving for work. (Until I encounter those idiot drivers who don’t signal/cut you off/drive so damn slow, etc.) Anyway, one of my clients from last week lives in Chabot Park, and after their appointment, I explored their neighborhood a bit. An unexpected turn onto a dead-end road led me to this land of billys, nannys, and kids. It’s been ages since I got to see some goats up close, so this was all fascinating for me!

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I would’ve pet that critter, but there was this obstacle.

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I tested that electric fence by tapping a tall piece of hay on it. I didn’t get shocked but the hay broke off.

Also, I honestly thought this was some kind of goat farm, and then my uneducated ass learned a bit on goat grazing programs.

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This dog was breaking the rules! Going around with no leash and all! Actually, that pup played guard to the goats.

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Those kids ain’t right. They were butting heads!

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Those lucky goats get to dine, combat fires, and reside with a view. (Look very closely to the left and you can see the Golden Gate Bridge!)

All that was missing from this little trip was a baby’s bottle full of milk.