How a Game Called 'Crocodile' Foresaw My Goat Feeding Panic

July 11, 2025

How a Game Called 'Crocodile' Foresaw My Goat Feeding Panic

Last month, I binge-watched the third season of Squid Game (and finished it in one day). Even though it was my least favorite of all the installments, the show still kept me on my toes. The brutal nature of the series, however, lingered a little too long. I ended up having nightmares that night, which woke me up every two hours.

That’s what happened to a scaredy cat who tried to follow the hype around a thriller TV show, I guess. If curiosity could kill a cat, mine killed my own sleeping schedule.

Well, I’ve always been aware of the fact that I’m sort of… timid. My mom told me that when I was a kid, my sister and I used to play this made-up game called crocodile. In this game, our bed would represent the sea, while the pillows that we had laid out across it would be the dry lands. Our mission was to go across the sea without letting the crocodile (my mom) catch us.

My sister stepped confidently like a pro—I’m pretty sure she acted as if she were in a Ninja Warrior challenge. I, on the other hand, was dramatic as heck. I stood on the edge of the bed because I was too afraid of the crocodile (which, again, was played by my mom). My mom claimed that I would scream dramatically while we were playing (I would now argue that, of course, I was just being responsible for my safety).

Nowadays, my scaredy cat side may have been toned down to a healthier degree, but I must admit that it still pops up from time to time. For instance, it was quite obvious (and also well-documented) during my visit to Kuntum Farmfield earlier this year.

A little background info: Kuntum Farmfield is a recreational farm in Bogor that allows visitors to feed animals like chickens, goats, cows, and many more. Spanning almost 5 hectares, there’s also a large area for simple green exercises and horse riding.

Since it was the weekend, my boyfriend and I paid IDR 80,000 per entry ticket. We also got a pack of poultry feed and the farm’s map at the entrance gate.

Our trip started with serene scenery all around us. It felt like wandering around a secret rural place in the midst of a bustling city. I remember how peaceful and happy it made us feel that day. My boyfriend even told me that he would love to bring his three-year-old niece here one day.

There are a lot of plants with enough information provided in a description board.

The serenity, however, came to a halt in the goat area.

I don’t exactly remember who came up with the idea to feed the goats. It was probably my boyfriend’s, since he giddily watched me take a woven container of plants and started documenting the whole process.

At first, I didn’t mind. It would be a new experience for me—and I’m always up to try new things as long as they’re not too nerve-wracking. ‘What’s so difficult about feeding the fenced goats anyway?’ my mind reasoned. It wasn't until I was in front of those goats that my legs turned to jello.

How did goats become so intimidating? I have no idea. Every time I tried to get just a little closer to them with this appealing-looking woven container (I believe for the goats it screamed treasure), their radar instantly picked up! Some of the goats started craning their necks, trying to get out of the picket fence to reach me. No kidding. They looked so ready to push me out of their way and colonize the woven container all for themselves.

The whole process was well-documented on my phone by the boyfriend who laughed so much. And thanks to him (note the sarcasm, if you must), I can show you some of the pictures as proof:

Well, the rest of our trip went back to how it had first started: peaceful and serene. I would love to go back there again someday—but obviously without the feeding part because you-know-why.