Don´t trust goats [ethically speaking]

About 20 years ago, I was in the Netherlands running in a park. The park was a nice forest, with beautiful running trails. Wooden fences with chicken-wire fencing divided the park into sections. About every half-kilometer or so, the trail passed through a gate that I had to open, then close. After I ran a few miles, I unlatched a gate, went through, shut the gate, and then re-latched it. When I turned around, there was a herd of goats about 10 m away. The goats at the front of the herd had bulging eyes, and looked a little mean. Their horns were intimidating, even though I was much bigger than they. I moved fast and unlatched the gate, opened it, and dove through. The herd stampeded right next to the fence, and would have ruined my day, if I hadn´t thought quickly. I never pictured death by goat before. I still see their bulging eyes when I have a goat nightmare.