OK, so after a hard day of pedalling I'm relaxing in this alleyway with Billy and an old lady when all of a sudden I feel the earth move beneath my feet. I turn to my right and -- holy crap! -- a two-ton bull on some urgent errand is barreling down this five foot wide path. The thing was ginormous, with shoulders a man wide, coming within about a foot of pedestrians on either side, but nobody blinked. Not this guy across the way, not the old lady, and definitely not Billy.















Here's Billy. Ever seen that cartoon -- perhaps it was a tom and jerry that didn't include tom and jerry -- where the skinny, haggard, hick, upright-standing wolf loses all his possessions because of a goat he calls Billy? The goat eats everything and does nothing he asks except follow when he says, drawling, "here, Billy, Billy." so i spy this goat penned in a sunken cage, he's working on some grass about fifty yards yonder and i say "here, billy. here, billy, billy," not expecting much. But lo and behold he saunters over and climbs up a 70 degree vertical rock face until we are face to face. But the claim that mountain goats will eat anything is a myth -- he turned up his nose at a piece of my banana.