Goats: horse eating entities or harmless bleaters?

On Sunday Anne and I were going to go riding.  I arrived first, so I decided to spend the extra time taking Peanut out on trails as his dreaded enemies, the goats, had made a reappearance in the field on the far side of the trail entrance.  It had been a long time since goats were in that field.  I nonchalantly walked him on the road towards the trails, and he nonchalantly accompanied me.

And then he looked and saw the goats.

That boy planted... planted and started alarm calling.  I even tried waving treats in front of his nose, and for the most part they were useless.  I can usually at least get his upper lip moving up and down as he continues to stare, but he ignored me for the most part.  I had to move beside his belly, moving as if I was about to whack the end of the lead against his butt, before he would move.  So, he was paying enough attention to me to see that as I never had to touch him with the lead.

We eventually moved beyond the goats, but he still didn't calm.  He kept tense and alert, looking back in their direction and alarm calling.

At one point two bikers came up the trail, from the direction of the goat.  I tried to shuffle Peanut off to the side as they dismounted and pulled their bikes over.  I told them to come on by, he's just scared of the goats.  After one spin I managed to get him off of the trail, and as they rode by I heard the woman explain to the man what Peanut was doing (alerting the herd to danger by snorting in alarm) and that is exactly how her horse was acting that time when he saw a mule.  She then turned to Peanut and told him he was a good girl and that (s)he'll be ok. I didn't bother correcting, I was just glad that she understood and embarrassed that I hadn't yet taken a curry to the muddy beast.

We continued walking, coming to the crest of a hill where I decided we might as well turn around.  As we passed the goats yet again there was a flurry of alarm calls, halts and stares.  Anne had arrived at the barn while we were out, and got to see Peanut in his flustery state.

I decided that I would be mounting on trail, and dismounting again before coming off of it.

As I prepared and then groomed Peanut, he was tied in a spot that gave him ample gawking opportunities of the goats.  Suddenly, his attention shifted as a group of riders, maybe 4 or 5, came down the leader trail to the road.  They eventually took the last turn-off into a field that went right beside the goats and headed up a hill back into the park.  Oh, did that get Peanut's attention!

He looked at the horses, then he quickly shifted his head to look at the goats.  He looked back at the horses, then the goats.  Horses, goats, horses, goats.  And you know what?  At no point did a horse give a damn that they were walking close to goats, and at no point did a goat fly out of its field and open a jugular on a horse while bleating an evil laugh.

He watched for several minutes until the last horse disappeared over the far, grassy hill.  He then calmed down.  Even though he would still look their way, he was no longer rigid with fear and I was able to get his attention for our usual goofiness.

I told him that the funniest thing in the world would be for him to now walk past the goats like it warn't no thang, just like those other horses did, and make me look like a damn idiot for leading him past instead of riding.  Hilarious.

And he did just that - both in and out of the park, making me look like a fool.

Anne did say later that the goats had gone inside their little goat shelter (I was too busy intentionally not looking at them), but he still passed the area without the slightest fuss.

Horses.