They are wonderful creatures. As a staff, we'd really become enamoured of them and didn't want to see them go back to their farm. We'd all been hoping for a long-lived relationship where we'd get to possibly see the same little dudes every fall, do staff trips out to the farm, get the babies in for our spring festival, have them back every year in the fall for a month or two. Little fucking heart-stealers. Now we have returning students and school groups asking about them, and the Children's educators are trying to be diplomatic over THEY'RE ALL DEAD and not having their own hearts break all over again.

One of my colleagues actually went out, at the end of her day, and would say goodbye to each and everyone of them. Every day. She was in the midst of planning a contest for naming the baby goats that would be visiting us for our spring fest.

My buddy Beast the big love who would lean against me like a bulldog is dead. Rain the unicorn who liked to hang out between my legs because she was so fucking tiny. Fiona who stole the show and ate everything forever and ever and always while all the others were trying not to explode and gave the most fantastic downward-leaping headbutts. We were nutso about them, we all wanted to be goat-herders when we grew up and have goats for puppies and goats at work for always (and never get any work done).

Aaand, I'm done.

Awwwww.... the poor creatures. I've always heard that goats are loaded with personality and unfair cuteness, plus that having them graze hillsides to bring down the fuel load works for everybody.

Except some Marin joggers from the Eighties, who objected to unsightly animal poop on their trails.

I hope that this batch of goats will be succeeded by another herd who gets to fulfill all your charming plans.

Oh, that's so sad, Juliebird.

I am eating an unnecessary amount of chocolate, trying to get myself psyched up to do some work.

That's the plan, Katerina. To raise enough money to get Larry and Ann a new herd and a new barn.

In the meantime, the poop they shared will fertilize our daffodils and wildflowers. Not Larry and Ann's poop. The goat's poop.

Sorry, I have to get crass or I'll start crying again.

Juliebird, My heartbgoes out to all who loved those goats. On the off chance it might be of service, petloss.com does a "Monday Night Candle Ceremony" [link] to help people grieving for animals.

8-12 inches is nothing to apologize for. That's pretty significant snowfall. Be careful out there.

Nora, I know, you're right. I just feel guilty because people north of here have had to out up with so much. But I will be careful. And by careful I mean stay inside and drink.

tommy, I'm sorry about your brother. That's so hard.

Juliebird, that's really sad.

Definitely stay inside with 8-12 inches of snow! I'm still mad at our HR lady who sent out the "the office is open, you know your commute best" messages and then stayed home.

I kind of really love the Cadillac Dare Greatly commercial. Like, a lot.

Julie, I'm so sorry. I couldn't comment earlier because I really couldn't think about it and my market goats and gah. Completely awful sad.

I was kind of useless when I got into work on Tuesday and heard the news. At first, when I saw the email titled "our goats are gone" I thought they'd been sold, and that was sad enough.

Last night I found a video that helped me with not only this weeks sad news, but just general sadness and depression, and it's a year old, so you internet savvy people might have already seen it, but I think it's good stuff, so here's the very hot JGL's hitRECord "You're Not The Only One" [link]