When I lived in New Hampshire as a child, my brother and I used to catch the bus every morning for school. we would walk down the hill, across a bridge and back up another hill to wait in the front of the neighbor's house. The neighbor had a goat for a pet, which was always tied up, until they went on vacation and it chewed through its' rope.
It chased me up onto the neighbor's porch where I tried to shoo it away with my bright red poncho (which just seemed to upset it more). I was really scared and my brave younger brother, seeing me in distress, got the goat's attention. The goat chased Matt down the hill, across the bridge and back up the hill to our house, where my mother, hearing the commotion, came to the door. She had to beat the goat over the head with a broom to get it to go away!
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