Who killed Cedar the Goat? The goat shares some insights

By CEDAR THE GOAT, as told to JOE MATHEWS

I, Cedar, may be as dead as the narrator of the film "Sunset Boulevard." But from my warm and dry pen in caprine heaven, I can still share a hard lesson with my fellow Californians:

Never let the government get your goat.

My short life is a parable of these head-spinning times, when cruel is the rule, and mercy is as rare as affordable housing. My death also raises questions about the responsibilities of children, the harshness of animal husbandry, and the excesses of law enforcement.

But the hardest question is straightforward:

Who killed me?

There are many suspects in this hiricide.

Did I die because of the child who raised me?

Until shortly before my death, I was under the care of a 9-year-old girl in Shasta County, who decided to enter me in last year’s Shasta County Fair. What she didn’t seem to understand was that county fairs aren’t all and fun and fried dough. Entering me into the fair meant I could be auctioned off for slaughter.

And that’s what happened. I was sold, for $902, to State Sen. Brian Dahle, the Republican candidate for governor in 2022. But when it was time to hand me over, the 9-year-old cried and refused to let me be taken away.

Was my death the fault of fair officials?

Dahle, as purchaser, was willing to cancel the sale — he knows what it’s like to get slaughtered, having lost to Gavin Newsom by 19 points. My former owner’s mother begged for my life, saying she was willing to buy me back.

But fair officials insisted that, that farm animals aren’t pets, and that I had to be carved up. My death, the fair CEO said in an email, would also teach that little girl life lessons — specifically that “making an exception for you would only teach youth that they do not have to abide by the rules that are set up for all participants.”

Was it the long arm of the law?

I used to wonder about the life of sheep across the pasture. After the fair, I went on the lamb.

Instead of handing me over, my owner’s mom took me to a Sonoma County farm that could care for me. The fair insisted this was grand theft, and called the Shasta County sheriff’s department, which sent deputies well outside their jurisdiction, 200 miles southwest to Sonoma. There they seized me, without me my rights or providing an extradition hearing.

Was it another management failure by Gavin Newsom?

The governor has declared that the death penalty will no longer being carried out in his state. But his office didn’t stop my execution. When the sheriffs returned me to fair officials, they had me slaughtered, without a trial before a jury of my herd.

Are state legal officials, and the courts, to blame?

The legal system failed to protect me — and has stood in the way of justice for my death. After my execution, my owner’s mom sued the fair, claiming violation of their Fourth and Fourteenth Amendments, and of state law allowing minors to back out of contracts.

You might think state officials would settle the case quickly, for PR reasons. Instead, state Attorney Gen. Rob Bonta countersued the girl’s mother, demanding that she pay all legal costs.

When government officials treat a child and mother like that, you must be more stubborn than a goat. Looking back, I should have behaved like the big, third goat in “The Three Billy Goats Gruff,” who pokes out the eyes of the troll who tries to eat him.

So, when the authorities come for something you love, think of me, Cedar the Goat, as a martyr. And defend the rights of children, the rights of animals, and your right to poke the eyes of anyone who would punish you for holding onto another living thing.

Joe Mathews writes the Connecting California column for Zócalo Public Square.

This article originally appeared on Ventura County Star: Don't let California get your goat