Here's looking at you, kid
The goats pass so close that with one step I could run my hands through their long white fur. The impulse to do so is remarkably strong. Their fur looks so soft. I wonder what kind of sweater it would make? I think that cashmere is made from goat's hair.
The three goats saunter slowly past me. Mom looks me up and down. When I don't move, she continues another ten yards or so, then leaves the trail and begins browsing at the base of another clump of pine trees.