Saturday, I headed out to the Happy Acres Family Farm in Templeton. (1955 Templeton Rd, (805) 434-7580, tasting room hours Sat - Sun 11 a.m. - 6 pm. Special tours available, http://www.happyacresfamilyfarm.net/)
They got goats. Lots of goats. Goats with ears. Even goats with no ears. Well, little nubby, cowrie shell shaped ears. All with their evil , Diabolical vertical slit goat eyes. But these are nice goats. They like shelled peanuts (which are given to guests so you can feed the goats who like shelled peanuts.) And they take the shelled peanuts very delicately and expertly from your fingers with nary a nip. And they have little goat kids hopping around like, well, litttle goat kids. And chickens.
They even have miniature ponies, and a miniature goat that came bleating out from the backside of the farm because it got lonely or confused and was looking for its friend, a nice young woman manning the tasting room. Thing was the size of a smalish dog and just as affectionate. The brochure says they have several alpacas and a crazy miniature donkey, but we didn't see those. 
We did bring along flatbread and fresh fruit and bought some of their delicious goat cheese (the tomato/herb and the herb/spice) and had a picnic lunch, followed by some strawberry goat ice cream which, surprisingly, tastes like frozen yogurt rather than a fatty ice cream and is delicious.)
And watched the goats. Great way to spend an afternoon.
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3 comments:
Awwww...
my kind of place. now if i could just figure out a way to fence 13 acres.....
I have a great goat story (that's right -- it's raining, and I have a great goat story).
About two years ago, a friend-of-a-friend needed to get rid of his goat, and I needed to mow down LOTS of weeds, so I adopted his goat, to see if it'd help me out in the mowing department.
For the first five days, this thing couldn't have been sweeter -- floppy ears, creepy devil eyes, and a soft little, "bahhhhhh." I liked it.
However, at 4:30 A.M. on the 6th day, that soft little "bahhh," all of a sudden turned into a deafening "BAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!"... over and over and over again.
I got up at 4:32 that morning, because that thing needed to be shut up. (I mean, I live out in the country, and all, but the noise coming out of that goat that morning, was going to wake up my [distant] neighbors... THAT's how loud that thing was.)
So, after my dog started to chase it across the field, and then I, while at a full sprint, was barely able to reach down and grab the end of the rope that I had lassoed around its neck (by the way, goats are REEEELY fast), I was finally able to jam it in the back of my truck shell (keep in mind, this is all happening at the crack of friggin' dawn).
The absolute first thing I did after securing/muffling the goat in the back of my truck, was fire up my computer and Google "goat ownership."
The very first line, on the very first web site I hit, said (in bold letters) "DON'T OWN JUST ONE GOAT!
And -- and I'm not making this up -- the very next line said, "Don't own a goat as a lawn mower."
0-2.
Needless to say, by the end of that day, we were able to find it a nice ranch in the area, with other (not for meat... I asked) goats.
One last thing, my experience in goat ownership also taught me one other thing: Goats are smart.
The reason it started "BAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!"-ing at 4:30 that morning, is because it began to notice the routine of the Tribune deliver car slow down and drop off a paper, and when the goat saw the tail lights disappear, it thought it was being left alone.
Which meant that at 4:30 EVERY morning after that, the goat was a-gonna bugle.
Buh-bye goat.
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