Is there no room in the world for goats?

Today I read in the times that the Catskill Game Farm is closing after 73 years. What was so special about this place, unlike the bigger and bolder Bronx Zoo for instance, was the freedom they offered you to get up close and personal with the animals. Not only could you feed them from hand, but you could get all up in their grills if you wanted to.

Though I hadn't been there in more than 30 of those 73 years, the Game Farm holds a cherished place in my heart. Not because I remember going - I don't - but rather because of the fun I was obviously having despite being too young at the time to recall it afterwards.

Here I am, two and a half years old, chillin' with a goat. We also rolled film (super-8, baby) of me chasing, and then being chased by, a fawn.

It's a shame a terrific place like the Game Farm couldn't make enough to cover the high cost of operations. And it's a shame I won't be able to take my children there for a fun picture of a grown-up me with a son of my own, hanging out with a llama or something.

I know, I know, if I had gotten around to reproducing sooner, I might have managed it. Procrastination gets me again.