I'm not buyin'

When I was little my dad took my brother and me to some dinky amusement park some where in the late-70's San Jose. There was a feeding zoo there and for a small amount of money you could buy a cup o' goat grub and spend some time "feeding" the goats. Really it was a dump and run type feeding--they were not skilled at patience.  As I stood there attempting to "feed" the goats I felt a pull at my arm and was horrified to look down and see one of them eating the wristband ticket the gate keeper had tied to me.  (A rather stupid, in your way, ticket tied with string around your wrist to mark those people who had paid to get in.) As this little goat was eating my ticket, making his way up to my arm, you can imagine all the horrifying thoughts going through my little head. (That Shel Silverstein poem, "I'm being eaten by a Boa Constictor", comes to mind.) My memory fades to black after that. I have to imagine my dad saved me...right dad?

So I see this road sign a lot and have always been curious. But as from my story you might guess correctly that I really don't like the animals. Maybe the little baby ones, but after that they're just weird, really. (Come on, don't you think?)  As I stepped out of my car of course they came to greet me. Taking their picture was easy.

See that one on the left...that little smile on his face?  I think heard him say, "OH. MY. GOSH. It's the girl from that story my Uncle Billy used to tell us!"

I'm outta here...