A Goat Morning in the North Country

The Two Alpines

            On Saturday morning, when I stepped outside and felt the warmth of the sun, I knew spring had finally reached the North Country. The return of the sun is a wakeup call for many of the region’s critters; the peepers are suddenly deafening in the wetlands behind our farmhouse, the geese are soaring over our heads in V’s, and the farmers are back in their fields.

The Alpine Wether

Through the long winter, the goat owners in this area have been tricky to find, but I’ve finally managed to track them down, and am on my way to visit two of them. Eric and Jean live 15 minutes from our Sustainability house, and as I drive the winding back roads of Northern NY, I notice families tooling around in their gardens, playing catch on their front lawns, and throwing sticks for their dogs. As a college student, it’s easy to forget that there is a different world just outside your campus bubble where people have work to do beyond desks, and weekend days start well before noon. This is a world I’ve been able to return to this semester.

            There’s something serene about morning air, and I roll down my windows as I guide my car up the pebble driveway, coffee cup  perched precariously between my knees. Eric and Jean are standing together in a fenced-in garden beside the driveway, Eric’s hand resting lightly on Jean’s arm. They face away from me, pointing at different parts of the garden, Jean leaning on a hoe, but as my car crunches further up the driveway they turn and wave.

            Jean is tall and thin with a long silver braid coming out from under a knitted hat, Eric has a bushy beard. They are smiling and friendly as they greet me, with their horse-sized dog trotting at their side. We head straight into the barn, where we lean against the beams of the goat pens and talk goat care.

Two Pregnant Toggenburg Alpine Does

            They have six goats. Two (and possibly a third) are pregnant, and so aren’t milking at the moment. Two of them are full Alpine breed and actually belong to a friend, though Eric and Jean are able to keep them for personal use. The Alpine female is pregnant; the other is a wether (a castrated male). The rest of the goats are either full Toggenburg or Toggenburg and Alpine. Jean calls three of her goats “freeloaders,” meaning that they aren’t giving much back to the farm. One, of course, is the wether, another is a twelve-year old goat that isn’t long for this world, and the last freeloader (according to Jean) has “mental problems” and won’t milk anymore.

            Jean says that very little goes into the upkeep of her small herd. She buys hay inexpensively from a neighbor, and finds that the goats are able to graze outside for most of the winter. During the summer months they require only a little supplemental hay. Health maintenance costs are minimal; her goats receive herbal de-worming and she says she hasn’t had to call a vet in years.

The Twelve Year-Old Toggenburg Doe

            All-in-all, Jean says that besides her “freeloaders,” the goats easily pay for themselves. She usually has two of them milking at a time (about a gallon a day each); the younger ones can milk for a season or two after giving birth, the older ones can milk for up to four seasons. The milk produced is usually only for the family’s use; in addition to drinking it, they make products such as cheese and yogurt. When goat kids are born on their farm they may join the herd as dairy goats, or are given away or sold. They may also become meat in the family’s freezer. Any products the family doesn’t need can be traded to farmer friends for other items such as fruit, veggies, and meats.

            As we visit, Eric and Jean’s two young daughters climb around on the wooden fences and beams in the barn. They can’t help supplementing their mom’s narrative with their own goat stories. They tell me they like it when the baby goats are born and they can play with them, and they think it’s funny when the wether nibbles their clothes and hands. I notice that they don’t flinch when their parents mention the animals being rendered into meat. This is clearly a family project; even the little girls have their chores to do and seem to enjoy helping their mom with hers. While the goats may not literally add to the family income, it’s clear that they contribute generously to the family’s well-being; all of their dairy, meat, and lawn mowing needs are taken care of.

The "mentally challanged" Toggenbrug Alpine Doe

            As I drive away two hours later, the morning air has lifted and the sun is higher in the sky. The route home takes me past the same houses I’d seen before. Fewer people are outside, and this time I notice the buildings themselves. Some of them are small, and a few of them have rusted roofs and chipping paint. I am reminded that this is one of the poorer counties in New York State, and I’m also aware that there are areas in the county worse off than this one. Some of these families are struggling to find jobs, pay their bills, and feed their kids. Isn’t it possible that a few hardy ruminants could help them support their families, just as they’d helped Jean and Eric? Perhaps they wouldn’t have the luxury of keeping “freeloaders”, but a small herd could provide them with much of their food, and maybe even provide them with products to sell. Goats are one of the oldest domesticated animals in the world; they have so much to offer people, and their funny personalities can enrich the lives of their owners. Perhaps keeping them is not for everyone, but they’ve certainly proven that they can pay for themselves, and they may even provide a bit of income for those people inspired enough to make room for them.