If you know anything about me, you know I love animals. LOVE.
For the last couple of years, I’ve heard rumblings of something called “goat yoga.” Always in places unfairly far away from me. So I just added it to my bucket list and quietly sulked about the injustice of it all.
Until last month. when a notification from the Clay County Fair popped up on my Facebook feed, announcing a FREE (with gate ticket) Goat Yoga session on the first Friday of the fair.
Guys, if Facebook and Alexa are spying on me and listening to my conversations, and it brings me gifts like Goat Yoga, then I am a-ok with the invasion of privacy.
I RSVP’d immediately, and started counting the minutes to the big day.
I even had my friend at Cutified Creations make me a special shirt.
On Friday morning, I got to the fair about 25 minutes before it opened and hopped on line. I had no idea what kind of crowd they were expecting, but I had no intention of being shut out of this event.
My concerns were valid. By the time I purchased my ticket, went to the restroom and got to the Cattleman’s Arena, it was 11:15 and the goat corral was absolutely swarmed with men, women and children, looking forward to the class.
I signed the liability waiver and got into the pen. By this point, the area was probably 70% full and I was able to find mat space near the back corner, along the gate. I put my bag and flip flops behind me and one of the volunteers advised that I stick everything outside the gate because the goats will nibble. Sure enough, one of the goats wandered over and started investigating my hat, so I complied.
The corral was lined with wood shavings, and in the middle was a platform, reserved for the yoga instructor. Goats were absolutely everywhere, doing whatever it is that goats do.
I was in heaven.
After everyone got organized and settled, the class began. It was a 30 minute flow, and I’m sorry to say, it wasn’t the most strenuous class I’ve ever taken. Mostly because I was way more interested in hugging goats than finding my inner breath.
I’m not sorry at all.
The goats were adorable. They wandered in and out, investigating the yogis. Volunteers wandered around the mats, making sure that no one was bothering the animals (everyone was very respectful) or the animals weren’t bothering anyone else (a group of goats found great interest in the woman in the corner behind me and effectively penned her in).
We moved through a nice, easy flow, while keeping an eye on the sweet animals around us.
At one point, I got stuck on my belly, because a couple of goats decided to walk over my legs. It was ok. I was fine waiting.
I didn’t stop smiling the whole time.
I was sorry to have the practice come to an end. I was practically skipping. There’s just no way to spend time with these sweet creatures and not walk away in a good mood, especially when doing sun salutations at the same time.
There were only two minor negatives to the whole experience. Yes, goats tend to relieve themselves wherever they choose. One did so in the vicinity of my mat. It wasn’t super close, but I had to keep an eye on it, just in case. And the who shavings went everywhere. It took some seriously scrubbing to get them off my yoga mat, and when I got in the shower when I got home, they were falling out of my sports bra and other places. It wasn’t a dealbreaker for me.
Mission accomplished. I can officially check Goat Yoga off my bucket list, but I would do it again at every opportunity.
And no. I did not kidnap that little baby. I wanted to, in the worst way, but I restrained myself. See? I can behave.
Have you done or would you do Goat Yoga?
What’s the coolest non-traditional activity on your bucket list?