Mostly sunny in the morning then increasing clouds with some scattered thunderstorms later in the day. High 76F. Winds SSE at 5 to 10 mph. Chance of rain 40%. Locally heavy rainfall possible..

Cloudy skies early, then partly cloudy after midnight. A stray shower or thunderstorm is possible. Low around 55F. Winds W at 5 to 10 mph.

Waiting for the dinner bell.

Waiting for the dinner bell.

With excited curiosity Joe and I peered through the slats of a horse trailer that had just pulled up. Forty-one goats and four sheep stared back at us. Tails flicked, ears twitched, and nobody made a sound. We weren’t at the 4H barn at the county fair (although it smelled like it—in that sweet hay-mixed-with-livestock-droppings way), we were standing on the edge of our yard. Margaret and Katherine, both lean in their jeans and steel-toed boots, had finished putting up a solar-powered electric fence around the overgrown portion of our property and were preparing to set the goats free.

“We’re ready to launch,” Margaret said. She unhooked the back latch, swung open the tailgate, and in a frenzy the goats spilled out into the fenced area and dispersed into the thick brush. Before I could say, “Wanna do some yoga?” they’d disappeared. “Where are they going in such a hurry?” I asked.

“They’re checking out the menu,” Margaret explained. “First they’ll eat the candy and toward the end of their stay they’ll be cleaning up the Brussels sprouts.” (Eat dessert first, I’ve always said.)

“But don’t worry. They know their job,” she said. “They’re here to eat.”

Eat they did. For four full days these slightly contrary, clever, wiggly animals (Margaret’s descriptives) made salad out of almost everything in sight and within reach. They ate and they ate and they ate some more.

Each morning they ate. Afternoons were spent relaxing and chewing their cud (a process some animals go through where they re-chew food they consumed earlier). As the day cooled they started in on dinner. (“Greens again?” I imagined them thinking.) They ate the weeds. They at the vines. They stood on their hind legs to reach the low hanging leaves from trees, which resulted in several smaller trees getting knocked to the ground, which is how one goat managed to push the fence out of its way so it could escape. The rogue goat headed for our garden and we tried to redirect her. I won’t deny that I panicked and in that flustered state, wondering what we were going to do about a goat loose in the neighborhood, the words to the old folk song came to me:

Bill Grogan’s goat was feeling fine,

ate three red shirts right off the line.

Bill took a stick, gave it a whack

and tied it to the railroad track.

The whistle blew, the train grew neigh.

Bill Grogan’s goat was sure to die.

He heaved a sigh as if in pain,

coughed up the shirts and flagged the train.

Eventually our adventurous gal jumped the fence at a low point to rejoin her buddies. Goats like to stick close to their buddies, we learned.

We’ve heard of prescribed burning, which is crucial to reducing the risk of devastating wildfires. Well, this was prescribed grazing, which controls problem vegetation without causing erosion, without using toxic chemicals, and without burning fossil fuels or creating the noise pollution that comes with power equipment.

The only residual effect was the droppings, which in a goat’s world only means job security. That fertilizer will encourage regrowth so our dinner guests will need to come back to our abundant salad bar again next summer. (Seeds, however, are not usually viable after having visited a goat’s gut.)

The Goats on the Go herd consisted of goats of every size, color and age. They were frisky critters who danced a bit, butted with their horns some, frolicked and played (and ate). They played Marco Polo shortly after they’d been let loose: a kid, still nursing and obviously feeling lost without its mother, called out a high-pitched bleat to which his nanny goat answered from across the way in a lower, calmer voice, “baa-aa-aa.” This could have been interpreted as a bored, “meh-eh-eh.” In Goatese (not goatees. That’s something entirely different) I imagine she said, “I’m over here, kid. You’re fine. Just keep eating.”

We encouraged our neighbors to bring their lawn chairs, cool beverages and snacks to enjoy the show. We just asked that they not bring goat cheese. We didn’t want to upset the entertainment. One grandpa watched his grandson guide another neighbor to a good viewing spot, then leaned toward us and said, “I used to watch girls; now I watch goats.”

Goats on the Go can be found in 21 states, in Australia and Canada.

You may let The Thunker know what you think at her e-mail address, donoholdt@gmail.com.

Interested in back issues of Estes Park News? Check out our Virtual E-Edition Archives and enjoy some of our previous content.

Your comment has been submitted.

There was a problem reporting this.

Keep it Clean. Please avoid obscene, vulgar, lewd, racist or sexually-oriented language. PLEASE TURN OFF YOUR CAPS LOCK. Don't Threaten. Threats of harming another person will not be tolerated. Be Truthful. Don't knowingly lie about anyone or anything. Be Nice. No racism, sexism or any sort of -ism that is degrading to another person. Be Proactive. Use the 'Report' link on each comment to let us know of abusive posts. Share with Us. We'd love to hear eyewitness accounts, the history behind an article.

Sorry, there are no recent results for popular commented articles.

Dorothy A Davis, a long-time summer resident of Estes Park, Co…

Robert M. “Mike” Murphy, age 79, passed away on July 20, 2022 …

Steven Wayne Tyson passed away unexpectedly on May 31, 2022 fr…