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Goats as Pets
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For years, I have read and listened to stories about what interesting pets
Goats could be. A new friend recently mentioned that she had a small farm and
Was raising a herd of Tennessee Fainting Goats and actually had a baby
Goat available for adoption. I had always been intrigued by goats and
what I perceived was their higher than average intelligence—compared to many
pets—and other hooved creatures. I told her I’d think about it overnight.
I went home and immediately did some online research into goats and found a wealth of
information detailing everything from raising a baby goat to birthing, intestinal blockages,
and horn removal. Horn removal—if I had to focus on that I’d give up on the idea altogether. Too much information, so I focused on the basics: food, general health needs, emotional needs. I researched the Fainting Goat breed and learned that they don’t actually faint—they have muscle spasms when they get nervous. They are then paralyzed and can fall over “in a faint” but remain 100% conscious. It’s a genetic anomaly. Goat DNA apparently gone haywire somewhere along the way—contaminated by a virus or infection.
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I also read how intelligent and personable the Tennessee Fainting Goat breed is—when they weren’t nervous and falling to the ground in muscle spasms. Wouldn’t that be alarming to witness every day? All the source materials raved--claiming they made “great” and “suitable” pets. Suitable to what? I didn’t live in a barnyard, after all. But I had an unused shed that could be converted to a goat house or pen. My dog, Patsy, was bound to enjoy having something and somebody to herd around the desert besides me. The cats lived indoors and wouldn’t mind a new animal tossed into our mix. I called my friend and made an appointment to visit her farm the next day and meet the baby goat.
When I arrived at my friend’s farm, I entered a world populated with many different species. Three dogs, several cats, plus pens and yards containing peacocks, chickens of
several exotic varieties, huge Hyacinth Macaws, a horse, plus several herds of goats.
These Tennessee Fainting goats are black with white spots randomly placed.
They were exceptionally friendly without mauling you. And quite gentle.
I spotted the smallest member of the herd and assumed it was the goat available for
adoption. She called him “Lightning”. The thought of separating this young goat—not a baby anymore—a youth now the size of a good sized small dog—from his family disturbed me. The male and female adults also looked awfully large to be “pets”. I asked how big Lightning would get and she said he was small and the Vet thought he’d stay small. I learned he was called “Lightning” because of a striking white jagged lightning mark across his dark back.
Lightning came over and ate the hay I offered. His eyes were mesmerizing—unlike any
other creature I’ve encountered. He seemed deeper--intelligent and definitely emotional. How could I say no to this splendid young goat? If I didn’t adopt him, someone else would. I thought I could make it work. I asked my friend about the fainting business and she said I’d certainly see some of that, but, that it only happened when they got fearful—and she hardly ever noticed it with her herd. Lightning touched noses with one of her dogs thru the wire of the low wire fence, which punctuated my decision. I agreed to adopt Lightning. She loaned me a huge dog cage which took up the back of the Jeep and we loaded the somewhat alarmed goat in. It was dark by now and hot. He calmed down as soon as I draped a blanket over most the cage. What he couldn’t see wouldn’t hurt him.
For the half hour drive back up to the high desert there was hardly a sound from the goat. He looked like he was curled up sleeping, which was a good sign—perhaps I had adopted a relaxed and travel-friendly goat. He certainly had an unusual and affecting charm. Still—had I lost my mind adopting a barnyard animal?
NEXT UP: When worlds collide: Lightning meets the dog, cats, and a rattlesnake
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