So these things happen. Your goat is not quite right, but not quite terrible either, but eventually not quite right enough that you decide she needs to see a doctor. Because this goat is olddd. Really old. And it seems like maybe geriatric goat care is a special thing I should know about, since I now own geriatric goats. (I inherited these goats, by the way. I find them a particularly entertaining, if unusual, inheritance.)
So, having made the decision, the old goat and I need to get ourselves to the vet. It didn't really seem worth hooking up the horse trailer - we're talking about a very small, old goat, and I'm kind of lazy, so I went with the easier option - tarp in the back of the old CRV.
I texted my sister a picture, and she wondered if it was hard to get the goat in the car. Not so much, I replied, in that I just picked her up and carried her. All of that power yoga better be good for something.
In the end the goat is in pretty good shape, though my car may never be the same again.