A goat will go to a goat

This really made me feel better AKA warm fuzzies a happy ending to this gut-wrenching tale

Goat found after 10 days
By BEN FINLEY
Bucks County Courier Times

The long and ultimately happy-ending journey for Lower Bucks' wayward goat could make for a children's book someday.

The moral: It takes a goat to find a goat.

Kellogg, a puff of white fur, caramel-colored horns and frightened black eyes, was finally rescued off Lower Southampton's Street Road about 3 a.m. Tuesday morning. If the goat drove, she was about 1.7 miles from home.

The animal, who was initially thought to be her adoptive sister Buckwheat, is uninjured after 10 days on her own.

Some might consider a goat to be rare in the dense Philadelphia suburbs. But the goat was able to find others just like her.

"People can go and look for anything they want * but a goat will go to a goat," said Frank Lotz, the owner of the goats whom Kellogg tracked down off Old Street Road in Lower Southampton.

As far as anyone can tell, the following is Kellogg's journey:
On Feb. 9, Kellogg made her way out of a metal mesh fence at her house on Mulberry Avenue in Bensalem's Oakford section. From there, Kellogg's owner, Iris Star, believes that ATV riders behind the house chased Kellogg far away from home.

The goat got lost. And the first sighting of her was the following Sunday on Hickory Avenue in Lower Southampton's Feasterville section, about 1.5 miles from home, according to police. Kellogg reportedly rammed people's front doors. And she even gave police the slip.
Star put her phone number in the paper for anyone to call if they'd seen her goat. She got about five calls a day for the next week.

But there were actually few sightings of Kellogg after that, Lower Southampton Police Lt. Raymond Weldie said.

Days would go by with nothing. Star began to put fliers up in the neighborhood about her lost goat.

Meanwhile, Lotz, the other goat owner across town, had been hearing his goats "bah."
Something was going on, he said. The neighbor heard it, too.

Lotz noticed that the grass on the outside of his goat's fence had been pressed down * like another goat had been sleeping there.

Then on Saturday, the sightings picked up again in that Lower Southampton neighborhood. And police tracked Kellogg to a yard off Woodbine Avenue. But they couldn't catch her.

On Sunday, there was a sighting of Kellogg at the Trevose Train Station in Bensalem. Then it went quiet again, police said.

On Tuesday morning, around 3, Lower Southampton police officer Sean Dougherty saw Kellogg pass in front of his car at the Commerce Bank at Street Road and Philmont Avenue. He and other officers gave chase. Star was called, and Lotz who lived right around the corner with his goats, came out to help, too.

With luck, they were able to corral Kellogg between two fences on the property of Just Children Day Care. Her journey was over.

Kellogg came home and inhaled some molasses-based goat feed, corn and hay. Her adopted brother and sister, Alfalfa and Buckwheat, didn't ram Kellogg as goats usually like to do. They hovered over her and smelled her and stayed close. The goats moved together in the pen like one animal.

"Goats don't like to be alone," Star said. "They're herd animals."

Said Lotz: "Our animals are what saved her, to tell you the truth."