As the youngest in my family, I’ve learned to be skeptical.  So when I first heard about goat yoga I thought someone was pulling my leg (or trying to get my goat).  But when I searched online (“Goat Yoga Near You”), I found Happy Goat Lucky.

The idea behind goat yoga is similar to other types of animal-assisted therapies, such as horseback riding, reading to dogs, or companion pets.  So why not combine the healing properties of animals with the therapeutic effects of yoga? Especially cute baby goats; I could get on board with that.

I wanted to go around the holidays for “Seasons Bleatings” but I wound up with bronchitis and didn’t think rolling around on a floor with animal dander in a cold garage sounded conducive to healing of mind, spirit, or body.  Besides, I was afraid my barking cough might scare the little critters.

The FAQ had the usual—What do I wear?  How long is class? Then I got to: Will I get pooped on?  I can’t offhand think of any other hobby I’ve contemplated that starts off with this question.  It turns out the answer is maybe, but it comes out in pellets and they have brooms at the ready to sweep it up.

Goat yoga is a great antidote if you ever suspect you are taking yourself too seriously.  It’s just hard not to lighten up when you are getting mugged by young ruminants who are trying to pick your pockets for treats.  It was a little difficult to focus on yoga when being sniffed and/or licked.

But then I didn’t have high expectations for the yoga portion; I knew it wouldn’t be as intense as the hot yoga I’ve done in the past.  Then again, “intense” and “baby goats” aren’t usually used in the same sentence to describe an activity.

I figured it was more about legitimizing interaction with the goats—we’ve done some yoga so now we can play.  Kind of like eating your veggies so you can have dessert. Otherwise it would be sort of a petting zoo for grown ups.  And what adult besides me would go for that?

While I certainly enjoyed myself, I had to admit that you could probably get just as much benefit from doing yoga at home with your dog.  Or with Yogi, my parents Goldendoodle. I could start a “Yoga with Yogi” series. He is housetrained, just fyi.

Here’s a stream of consciousness:  I thought about the moment when they let the goats go, before they run into the garage.  It made me think about the quote from Julius Caesar that I post on Facebook every year on the Ides of March:  “Cry havoc, and let slip the dogs of war!”

So I thought, why shouldn’t these be called the goats of peace?  After all, they are there as the harbingers of healing. And if that’s the case then how about if we were to be the goats?  Instead of having the goats help us, we ourselves could act as the goats, ministering to others.

We could let slip the goats of peace by bringing comfort to someone else.  Playing with kids, listening to a teenager, organizing a card game at a nursing home.  Helping a stranger at the grocery store, picking up trash in a parking lot, even a big smile while opening a door for somebody.

You’ve heard the exhortation to be the change you wish to see in the world.  I challenge you to be the goat. You all know what you need to do; now goat out there and do it.