Page 61 of The Goat in the Bedroom
“Welcome, everyone, to Floats With Goats,” the volunteer explained with a grin. “Why have a cow when you can float with a goat?”
“Of course,” Tempest said. “This place is amazing. Do you rescue all kinds of animals?”
“We do. Goats, pigs, chickens, horses, even donkeys. We've got about two hundred animals here. The surfing program is our main fundraiser and outreach. People come for the novelty, but they leave understanding how incredible these animals are.”
“Ooh, I can't wait to get Burrito Petito out on the water. This gives me an idea for a meet-cute,” Tempest said and whipped out her phone and rapidly typed.
Artie was drawn to a bulletin board set up at the cabana. The board was covered with photos and information about animals available for adoption.
“Gryffen,” Artie called out from over by the adoption board. “Come look. This is clearly fate.”
I walked over to find her staring at photos of baby goats, chubby little piglets, and a rooster that was far too reminiscent of Luke Skycocker.
“Look at these faces,” she said, pointing to a photo of two particularly adorable baby goats that were brother and sister. “How does anyone resist adopting them all?”
“Easily,” I said, but I was studying the photos too. “We live in a house, not a farm.”
“A house with a big backyard,” she pointed out.
“Not big enough.”
“Oh my god, Gryff.” Her voice was the most adorable whine and pointed to one of the photos “This little guy only has one ear. He needs us. We are meant to adopt him.”
“We are not adopting a goat.” There was no way I was getting out of adopting a goat.
“Yet,” she said with a grin that made my heart bust out its best dance moves.
Before I could argue further, Tyson appeared beside us. “Checking out the adoption board?”
“Yeah, that's Artie. She would adopt a feral raccoon and its squirrel army if I'd let her.” I forced myself to sound casual. “She's got a weakness for animals that need homes.”
Tyson made a weird bleating sound that I think was supposed to be a goat. I was definitely making fun of him for that later. But then he says in that weird goat voice, “I need a home.”
They were laughing together, easy and natural, while I stood there looking at photos of baby goats pretending not to think about how she'd said we were “meant to adopt them” like we were a couple making decisions together.
“Alright, everyone,” one of the surf instructors called out. “Let's get you on some boards. We'll start with some basic instruction on the beach before we get the goats involved.”
What followed was an hour of the most surreal experience of my life. We started with basic surfing instruction on the sand, which was challenging enough. But then the instructors brought out the goats.
“Meet your surf partners,” the head instructor announced as goats in custom life vests and harnesses were led over to our group. “These guys have been doing this for years, so just follow their lead.”
What should have been a disaster was actually incredible. The goats seemed to understand surfing in a way that defied alllogic. They balanced perfectly, knew how to turn the boards, and appeared to genuinely enjoy riding waves.
“This is insane,” Artie called out as MoonGoattie guided their board toward shore. “My goat is better at this than I am.”
Through it all, I watched her instead of focusing on my own goat. The way Artie laughed, the obvious joy on her face as she experienced something completely ridiculous and wonderful.
And I wasn't the only one watching. Tyson kept finding excuses to surf near her, offering tips and encouragement.
After an hour of goat-assisted surfing, we gathered on the beach while the animals were toweled off and given treats. Sean and Ren had drinks and sandwiches brought down, and the group settled into the kind of lazy conversation that happened after sun and saltwater and shared absurdity.
“So, Artie,” Tyson said, settling on the sand next to her while one of the goats munched on a special goat treat. “What's your favorite thing about LA so far?”
“Besides the goat surfing?” She scratched behind the goat's ears. “Probably the fact that I can do things like goat surfing. I mean, where else in the world is this just a normal Saturday activity?”
Flynn grabbed my arm and steered me away from the group. “WTF, man?” he said quietly.
“What are you flipping out about?”
