As it turns out, what sounded like someone yelling in distress on Oct. 30 was actually a mama goat calling for her babies that had just been removed from her care — and not, in fact, someone who had fallen off a cliff.
So, I have actually had a very similar situation. I live in rural Georgia, USA near timber property that occasionally folks have been known to ride ATVs and dirt bikes. So, one afternoon I hear screaming like someone had wrecked in the woods and fucked themselves up pretty good. I pull my ATC 250R out, kick it over and take off for the pines. I ride all over the property, stopping often, still hear screaming. This goes on for probably 30 or 45 minutes till I get to the far end and stop again and there’s the screaming, except…it ends in a totally recognizable goat warbling. Son. Of. A. Bitch. I was sure I was going to find some guy wrapped up around one of the loblollies with a busted leg or some shit. No. I had been punked by a goat in a field close to half of a mile from my house. Sure is funny the way sounds travel in the woods. I had only lived there for maybe a year or two. That was just one lesson about country living I’ve learned in the last 10 years.
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