When I was in junior school, a goat (named Billy, of course) used to stay in a part of a garden which was really steep. One day I happened to stroll in, and bef

When I was in junior school, a goat (named Billy, of course) used to stay in a part of a garden which was really steep. One day I happened to stroll in, and before I knew it, there was Billy between me and the gate. He had the beadiest little yellow eyes and he proceeded to lower his head and aim is horns at me, as he accelerated toward me on a narrow ledge. I ran out of fear and before I knew what was happening, I found I was flying down the steep slope, landing at the very bottom. I have no idea how nothing happened to me, but that day I learned first hand about how fear lends you wings. I've never forgotten Billy (it's now part of our family lore and I even took my daughters to my old school and the very place all this happened) though I never bore a grudge against Billy or goats in general.