Just before I was born, a goat was found running around the streets of New York City. According to a news story, when a person saw the goat, he said “oh Snap! A goat”. I am named Snap – because I’m a goat. Actually, I’m a Pygmy Goat. I bet you met my twin brother, Gordon. He is always the first to meet anyone. I’m quieter than him. I also don’t share his desire to explore the world. Although I join Gordon in some capers now and then, lately I prefer to sit in a warm spot away from the action. Eating hay is not a simple as you would think – my hay must be fresh, dry and off the ground. I have to tug hay otherwise I won’t eat it. Goats are like that. I feel the same way about carrots, leaves, weeds and apples. If my food falls on the ground or if Gordon slobbers all over it – I just can’t eat it anymore. The only thing I don’t need to tug on are little cheezy crackers - I will eat them off the ground or from the palm of your hand – provided Godon doesn’t eat them first.