Chapter 18 Duck, Duck… Goat
DUCK, DUCK… GOAT
The meadow was perfect. There was soft grass and glorious mountain views.
They were greeted by a rainbow-colored palette of yoga mats arranged in a circle.
But the group barely noticed the scenery or the artistic arrangement of the mats.
They were far too focused on the pen full of the most adorable, tiny, fluffy baby goats waiting to play with them.
“Oh, my goodness! They’re so small!” Wren exclaimed, already pulling out her camera.
“Eight weeks old,” Raoul confirmed. “Very playful, very curious. They’ll climb on you, nibble your clothes, and generally be delightful distractions while you attempt to find inner peace.
But on the other hand, they are excellent helpers.
They force us to remain present when the mind begins to wander. ”
Fred, who Wren had only just let out of his carrier, took one look at the goats and quacked indignantly. He positioned himself between Wren and the small goats, spreading his wings protectively and squawking louder.
“Fred, it’s okay,” Wren said, trying not to laugh. “They’re just babies. They’re just curious about us.”
Fred was having none of it. Every time a goat approached, he intercepted, herding it away with aggressive quacking and wing-flapping.
“Uh oh, I think he’s jealous,” Jasper observed from where he was settling onto a green yoga mat. He bit back a laugh as a small white goat jumped onto his lap and nibbled at his chin.
“Fred is most definitely jealous,” Raoul agreed, amused. He turned back to Wren and shrugged. “I’m sorry. Perhaps it will have to be duck yoga instead of goat yoga for you?”
“Seems I don’t have any other choice,” Wren said, looking wistfully back at the goats.
And so, while everyone else attempted to meditate with baby goats climbing all over them, Wren sat cross-legged with Fred perched contentedly on her shoulder.
“That’s it.” Raoul led them through a series of simple poses. “Just try and stay present in the moment. Let the goats do their thing. And breathe!”
Jasper had just settled into child’s pose when a small brown goat decided his back was the perfect napping spot. The goat curled up, closed its eyes, and fell asleep.
“Um,” Jasper said, “I think I’m stuck.”
“Don’t move,” Wren whispered, quickly pulling out her camera from the bag beside her and snapping some photos. “This is too adorable.”
Zephyr, attempting corpse pose with a ginger-colored baby ewe, found himself so relaxed by the mountain air and gentle afternoon sun that soon he was snoring as well, the baby goat nestled against his side.
Minerva, holding her own in tree pose, looked over at her sleeping husband, at Fred’s protective stance over Wren, and at Jasper pinned by his napping goat, and smiled. She’d been so nervous to leave Primrose Court for the holidays but she needn’t have fretted so much.
Her Yuletime vacation was turning out even better than she’d dared to imagine. This was exactly the kind of peaceful chaos she’d hoped for on this trip.
Now, if only the chaos they’d planned in the cheese caves would work out as well.