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I'll never forget my first adult encounter with the genus species Capra aegagrus hircus, the common goat. My first ever encounter I, sadly, cannot remember but from the stories I've heard of my toddler self on a farm, I'm sure there was some form of pulling, prodding and general light animal abuse on my behalf.
But the meaningful cross came during a trip to Mali. There were goats everywhere. That's like saying there was sand everywhere, but it's true. Of the few animals to roam the villages and in between, the goat was the most common and most valuable. The attraction I felt to this animal was pretty strong. I mean, they were so CUTE! And the vibe they gave off was akin to the laid back, slinky yet pouncy style I find so accommodating with cats, kittens. So as we are trekking between two villages along a dusty, barren trail, we run into a heard of goats, scattered, grazing on what little vegetation they could find. And then I hear a cry. A distinct, and almost human-like wail coming from my right. It was a baby goat who had been estranged from his/her mother, frantically running in circles, head and neck stiff and searching the horizon. Head down, following the ground in search for food, baby goat must have lost itself in the intricacies of foraging, all the while losing track of its clan. Now it was in panic mode, sending out a wild call in hopes the familiar warmth of his mommy would reply. And reply she did. This was a moment, let me tell you. Almost moved me to tears. Equally engrossed in the hunt for sustenance, in fact, probably more engrossed since she was a nursing goat, baby goat's mother, upon hearing the familiar cry of her young, jolted upright and began to adjust her course in the direction of the sounding kid. She replied "baaa" (I'm pretty sure goats baa as well) or maybe it was "maa", a tinge of concern in her voice. From across the plain they called to one another. And eventually, recognized one another. The mother trotted towards her young, who was, no joke, sprinting, shaky-legged and still baa-ing, or maa-ing, as if to confirm he was running towards the right goat. And upon meeting one another, this baby goat went straight for the teat. Just, bam, right back to the source. One of those National Geographic moments, for sure.
LOOK AT THIS THING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Another thing that fascinates (and creeps me out) about goats are their rectangular pupils.  The Russian avant garde painter Kasimir Malevich revered the square and rectangle and focused almost exclusively on exploring its metaphysical and spiritual significance in art, and its distinct absence in nature. Upon seeing these m-fckers eyes I immediately thought back to KM. Though not a perfectly linear rectangle, the shape certainly does exist in their eyes.