Written by Trina Severson
guest columnist
Editor’s note: Enjoy this story by Trina Severson, who fills in for Scott Sahlman this week. Maybe he’s out somewhere taking pictures of his dog reading his latest book.
It was late fall and I wanted to try something new, something fun, social and active. And a fascinating post on my Facebook feed had what I was looking for. It was goat yoga. I checked the calendar and registered.
The day finally came and I arrived early. My host beckoned me in, surrounded by his soon-to-be petite friends. I climbed over the knee-high fence and joined the others in a circle on the grass. I spread out my exercise mat on the ground, sat down, and exhaled. I tried goat yoga.
I’ve been interested in this activity ever since I discovered this trend a few years ago. The idea is very simple. Yoga, but with goats. They mingle with humans, often climbing and balancing on guests in the downward pose of a dog or cat. They often playfully headbutt, nibble, and snuggle. I had carefully followed my host’s advice to remove all dangling jewelry, secure loose clothing, and place all valuables safely outside the goat circle.
we started. I lay on my back, closed my eyes, and breathed consciously. This is going to be a challenge for me. Even in the tranquility of a traditional yoga space, it’s hard for me to find my center. Add in a wind advisory and a dozen sociable goats, and the chances are slim. Perhaps a goat mixer with hors d’oeuvres and bluegrass music would be more up to my speed. But where can you find it?
I closed my eyes and listened to my instructor’s voice through the howling wind. Was I still following? Or was everyone else already awake and standing tall in mountain pose while I lay on the ground breathing deep and dreaming of fried pickles and banjo? Or? I took a look. No, we were all still in sync. A small goat grazing a few inches from my elbow gave me an encouraging look. I reached out and scratched her head.
As we stood up and took the cobra pose, I thought I heard a scream of agony. Did someone in your class go nuts? Was it a goat noise? I didn’t understand, so I opened one eye and turned towards the sound. It was a large chicken, walking around the enclosure and pecking at food. Everything was fine. I closed my eyes and tried to refocus and turn my attention inward.
Really, who was I kidding? (I’m not kidding.) I just came looking for goats. These are stressful times, and I think animals can be incredibly soothing. What if you’re so focused on your yoga moves that you miss the chance to pet a goat?
I tried to stay the course as the instructor’s gentle voice prompted a meditative sequence. During bridge pose, a large oak leaf slapped my cheek, causing my eyes to open in surprise. I took this opportunity to have a quick look at the goats, had a brief happy eye contact with a little speckled billy named Rocky, and then closed my eyes again.
As the lesson progressed, the goats began to gather together. A small specimen pressed its head against my calf during warrior pose. A lovely little doe came over to see if she could share some food with me while in eagle pose. I was getting my money’s worth. During Tree Pose, I focused on Daisy Mae. Daisy Mae stands before me like a statue, ruminating meditatively. She has certainly found her own center.
Editor’s note: Sure, they might make great yoga buddies, but don’t look directly at them with their weird rectangular eyes. (Photo by Trina Severson)
I’ve always loved goats, but my first experience with one ended badly. I was her 6-year-old child living in the city visiting the petting zoo at the county fair. And I was so proud of my long braids and the bright red ribbon that her mother had tied around them.
A curious nanny goat named Gladys found them equally appealing. I tried to handle this problem myself, but ultimately my father had to step in and save me and my precious hair accessories from Gladys.
Today’s goat yoga trend doesn’t surprise me. The history of humans and goats goes back a long way. They were our first domesticated animals over 10,000 years ago. Very useful for dairy, meat, fiber, fertilizer, weed control, etc. Goats may rival dogs as man’s best friend. They can form social bonds with humans. They look at us the same way dogs do. They wag their tails when they are happy. Abraham Lincoln had two goats named Nanny and Nanko, who he used to pull his sons around the White House on carts and kitchen chairs. Social media is full of goat videos and memes. A Google search for funny goat videos will give you endless returns. Dogs and cats should be concerned. I was hooked. I found a new favorite exercise routine.
Doing yoga under blue October skies sounded great in itself, but adding goats to the equation meant I, and apparently countless others across the country, would be heading to the farm with a water bottle and a yoga mat. That was all the motivation I needed. Namaste.
