A girl and her goat: A love story.

A while ago I was walking in a busy part of the village around 5pm when I passed a tiny goat all by itself. It was a strange place to see a goat and it wasn’t crying out as they usually do when they are separated from their herd. I approached him(?) tentatively, glanced around, and then scooped him up. I wasn’t really thinking through what I was doing, and I quickly walked home with him. Unfortunately I was on my way somewhere (and was now late), so as soon as I got home I put the goat in my bathroom and ran back out again.

When I got home later that night I panicked a little bit. How on earth do you take care of a baby goat that is probably less than a week old? I did some quick research and found that it’s not uncommon for mother goats to abandon their kids, meaning they reject them and don’t let them nurse. I found a recipe for kid milk (believe it or not) and tried to feed him. I didn’t have a bottle, but with the suggestion of my friend Hannah (who conveniently called at that moment and provided goat-rearing moral support), I soaked a washcloth in the milk mixture and let him suck on it. It wasn’t great, but it did the trick.

I soon realized, however, that I couldn’t keep this adorable little goat. The next morning I took the goat with me to work, because I always pass a herd of goats on my way. When I ran into them as expected, I put him with the herd and walked away. It was heartbreaking to see him try to drink from many of the mother goats, all of whom rejected him. I had to just walk away at that point, I had done everything I could, so I walked the rest of the way of the clinic and tried not to think about the little guy anymore.

About five hours later, I left the clinic for lunch. Directly outside of the gate was the tiny goat, all by himself. I swear it was like he was waiting for me. I don’t believe in coincidences, so of course I scooped him up again and walked home. Yep, I was that random white girl in the village walking around carrying a baby goat. As if I needed that extra attention.

I spent the afternoon collecting old cinderblocks from around the yard and creating a small corral for him. I also bought a baby bottle to feed him with. He had a huge appetite! Clearly I was in this. For about a week, I put him in the corral during the day and let him out to graze whenever I was home. This proved difficult because one of the dogs that hangs out in my yard was a little too interested in the goat. The kids who come over to color sometimes loved feeding him and playing with him. Maybe they thought it was strange that I was treating him like a small child, but I think they found it funny more than anything else.

The goat kept nibbling on the ends of their markers.

One of the dogs (Buddy) a little too interested in the baby goat.

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 My frustration from having to hold him back from chasing down the goat...

But there were a couple different people at work who told me the owner of the goat was probably looking for him. Livestock is property and a means to income, and as much as I really loved that goat, I knew I couldn’t keep him. So that Friday, just like before, I put him back with the herd I passed on my way to work. This time though, I didn’t watch what happened. I made sure he was with the herd, and then I walked away.

Even though there are hundreds of goats in this village, I look for the little guy every day.