Here’s some background info: I am not some nut who sees animals. Though it has been confirmed that my spirit animal is a squirrel. Which I hate.

For the last five years I have had to cross the James River to get to work. For the first year I traveled north down Powhite Parkway, and crossing the bridge I sometimes thought I saw a goat in the morning. It’s not impossible that a stray goat would be on the hillside. Maymont Park is only a mile or so away from there, although it’s otherwise a residential area. I wasn’t sure how to research the goat potential of upperclass neighborhoods next to large rivers. I like to keep that sort of information to myself about things that probably aren’t real (although the white squirrels were really a thing).

A couple years later I started to see the goat again, and since a few of my coworkers at that time also drove to Northside, I finally got the courage to talk about it. Basically they said “there’s no goat” and one woman will pity me and say “I’m still looking for that goat!” It’s embarrassing. I do have one work buddy who also thinks she saw it, and if she changes her story I will die.

True, if you do some Internet sleuthing you’ll find that I have been wrong in the past. At first glance I do confuse all roadkill , such as groundhogs, for beavers or small bears. My sister still makes fun of me because of the raccoon-rigor mortis incident of ’96. I think I made her drive back with me to see it, but by then it was flat and not standing like a stuffed grizzly bear, as I had originally claimed.

Anyway. I see a goat sometimes. I don’t want to, but I do. For a few weeks I thought maybe it was just a white rock, but it’s not. It’s a goat.

Also, everyone will be asking me how you figure out your spirit animal. You take the one animal you’re often compared to. And that’s it.