I Tried Goat Yoga — It Was as Cute as it Sounds
If you’re thinking about trying goat yoga, read this first.
The GPS took me through a maze of roads alongside farmhouses with massive yards. I was definitely in the countryside of Lehigh Acres. I finally pulled up to the supposed location, behind a minivan with two middle-aged women in yoga pants inside. One of them got out of the car. I opened my window.
Her shirt read, “will run for wine.” I immediately liked her.
“Are we in the right place? I feel like GPS can never get it right,” she said.
“I think so. Maybe we’re at the wrong entrance.”
Another woman got out of the car and walked toward the gate, tripping on her own two feet in the process. She pushed on the gate with a considerable amount of force for about a minute. It finally opened. I hoped that she didn’t break it. The women were laughing hysterically.
We were all here for the same, very important reason: goat yoga.
I followed them through the entrance as I oohed and aahed at the horses in the pastures beside the long driveway. The horses were living their best lives — they were well fed, and their manes were shinier than my hair.
I parked behind a pasture with one lone, beige horse in it. His coat wasn’t as shiny as the others. I sauntered up to greet the ole boy. He had cataracts. He walked up to welcome me and hit his head on the wooden slab separating the two of us. I figured it’d be better for the both of us if I moved on.
I was then greeted by a pony that came up to my chest. He was roaming freely about the farm. I let him sniff me and then I stroked his head. I loved it here.
“Hi ladies! Welcome,” Mary, the owner of the farm said. She gave us waivers to sign and told us about the baby goat that gave her the idea for goat yoga.
There were about 30 other people there now, ranging in age from 2 to 60 years old. There were 3 men in attendance, with their wives. An older man who was there with his wife told us that he was there to be her and her friend’s “personal photographer.” My heart welled up.
We were all ushered into the barn where we chose a yoga mat and were handed some snacks for the baby goats. The snacks consisted of lucky charms (not the marshmallows) and oats. It smelled… earthy. The smell wasn’t awful, but it smelled like a barn.
Mary went over the rules for interacting with the goats. The only rule was to not stick your fingers in a goat’s mouth. Which seemed reasonable.
We were then warned about goats going when they have to go, wherever they feel like going; which occasionally means it happens on a yoga mat. But it was all part of the experience, right?
Then, six baby goats bounded into the barn. My heart almost exploded.
They were some of the cutest creatures I had ever seen. They were also absolutely insane. One jumped on top of another, causing it to topple over. Others attempted to jump on a platform and didn’t quite make it. Goat-parkour is a thing, I’m pretty sure.
I was surprised by how similar to puppies they were.
“You can just scoop them up,” Mary said. “They may struggle a little bit initially, but I swear they love cuddles!”
They zoomed about the barn, favoring those who had treats readily available. A little black and white goat came up to me and gingerly took a few treats from my palm and then relished in the head scratches before moving on to the next person.
Our yoga instructor arrived after a half-hour of unstructured playtime with the goats. Her name was Jenna Love. Which is a perfect name for a yogi, if I do say so myself.
Jenna Love spoke in a soft and level voice. She didn’t mention aligning our chakras, which made me feel more at ease.
I love yoga, but I hate the new-age lingo that often accompanies it. I just want to work on my flexibility and leave the class feeling better, dammit.
“We’re all here to smile, laugh and maybe even do some yoga,” said Love.
We did “downward baby goats,” planks, and sun salutations. All the while, the goats were trying to eat my shoes and hair. They jumped on top of a few people as they planked.
I had to break my pose a few times to nuzzle a goat, and wrestle my hair away.
We ended our class with a collective “namaste.”
I recommend goat yoga, but there are a few things to keep in mind before going:
- Goats go when they have to go, accept that you might have a goat go number 1 or 2 on your mat.
2. Your clothes will get dirty. You’re either going to be outside or in a barn, so leave the Lulemon at home.
3. It will be focused on the goats, not the yoga. It won’t be like the relaxing yoga class you’re used to, because goats will be jumping all over you. If you take any class that involves animals, it’s more about the novelty than the workout.
So, if you want to try some basic yoga and hang out with some adorable farmhouse animals, then give it a go.
