Clowns and Goats

   So I was taking a nice walk in the woods yesterday.  I reached about the middle point of my walk and entered into this grove on the top of hill.  It was beautiful honestly.  The grove was surrounded on all sides by tall redwoods, and sprawling across it was a sea of flowers and grass.  I think I might have laid down if I hadn't seen perhaps the most horrifying sight standing just in the darkness beyond the tree line.
   The goat was the first to make its way into my line of sight.  It was smaller, one of the kind that is a mixed gray in color, and has eyes that look like they are about to burst from its head.  The goat really didn't bother me.  The fact that it had a rope around its neck, made me feel like a moment that I had stepped into Jurassic Park, but it was quickly followed by a human hand holding the length of rope that connected to it so my mind was quickly put at ease.
   That ease only lasted a few milliseconds though.  For out of the shadows of the trees stepped a clown.  Not just any clown, but a clown with smeared makeup, torn and bloodied pants, and moving at a pace that was faster than I expected.  He was staggering, as if the goat was pulling him.
   Immediately imagery from the move IT flashed before my eyes and I screamed in horror.  Perhaps horror isn't the right word.  Perhaps I should say that I screamed like teenage girl in ghost movie.  You know, my head sort of turned a little to the side like I was trying to take in the scene, then my voice got all high pitched, my testicles retracted into my body, and my head did that shaking thing that only really happens in the movies (except to me).
   The clown and the goat paused for a moment.  I realized the goat was pulling, or maybe the clown was holding him back.  The clown actually looked as surprised as I was.  Honestly, he looked horrified.  Then he broken into the crazed walk run pace he was in before.  Right toward me.  I soiled myself, closed my eyes and waited for the goat to reach me.  I was certain the demon clown would set his hell spawned goat upon me and that they would both feast on my warm spasming body as I lay dying on the ground.
   Nope.  He ran right past me.  Said something too.  I wasn't quite sure I made it out.  He just ran by.  Smelled terrible too, like dirt and sweat and blood.  What was it he said?  It rolled around in my brain not making any sense.  For the first few moments I was still trying to process the bloodied clown running at me.
   Then something else came out of the shadows.   Bigger.  All at once the word rolled into that area of my brain where it started to have meaning.  Bear.  He said bear.  Shit.  So I ran.  Soiled.  I really would have crapped myself again but I didn't have to go anymore.  I managed to push some gas out, but that was really all I had left in me.  I immediately took off in the direction that the clown and his goat were running.
   So anyway, long story short.  It turned out the clown had been at a birthday party of a local family.  He had come in through a back gate and accidentally let out a pet goat.  Being a kind fellow, he jaunted off into the woods to find it.   Find it he did.  It was being accosted by rather larger and angry brown bear.  So being brave and entirely unclown like he rescued goat, put a rope around its neck, and proceeded to run it home, with the bear chasing them down.  While running up to the grove, he tripped, ripped his pants, got up, brushed himself off, listened to a guy scream and crap himself (yes me, so quit asking), and then ran down the hill on the other side.
   Why you might ask am I telling you this?  One lesson:  Always trust a clown with a goat.  I'm just saying, its rare enough, and weird enough, that if you see a clown with a goat, he's probably not up to no good.