The road to office is lined with bakras and bakris who're having a street party. They must be quite surprised at the sudden change in their fortune. Green goodies are being flung at them regularly and they're chomping away, merrily one assumes, since their expressions don't give much away. Perhaps their parents/cousins went to the city last year for the party. They were never heard from again.
If there were a way to keep a goat in a 1-bedroom apartment and prevent it from eating up your worldly belongings while you were at work, I'd have bought one today.