Pygmy Goats...no, really!
I was about 5 years old, and my dear parents decided to take me for a day out on a farm open to the public...pretty weird considering I was actually brought up on a farm, but the promise of ice cream (and tractors!!) overcomes almost any misgiving in a 5 seven year old (please insert paedo joke HERE).

So, there I was, enjoying this bucolic scene, perched on a fence by the goat enclosure. The parents wish to record the moment for posterity, and in order to emphasise the cuteness of their son, they feel a prop is required...why not a full bucket of feed for the goats?

After few moments, I'm having trouble holding up the bucket and staying balanced on the fence. The inevitable happened, and plunging arse over tit into the mud on the other side, I am greeted by a pack of rampaging, red-eyed monsters, who only seconds before had been docile, fluffy herbivores.

They wanted my blood I tell you! Never, ever, trust a goat. Or your parents.

PS. I was also bitten three times by the same dog, over a course of about two years - I still have the scars today, after about 17 years - they look fucking scary. Apparently this hound had a history of attacking kids, but no one told my parents...! Perhaps my paranoia isn't quite as unjustified as I thought.
( alcuin, Thu 2 Jun 2005, 17:47, Reply)