Who said, Goats will eat anything?

When you have acreage and live in the country, folks assume you are a refuge for unwanted animals. Friends people whose names you barely remember hearing before — or distant relatives of co-workers, former neighbors, or maybe even someone unknown just passing by who desperately needs to find a home for a sweet, lovable four-legged creature that Honestly, will be no problem what-so-ever, plead with you to take this sweet doe-eyed beast off their hands.

That is how we got Blackie and Whitey two Nubian goats. The pair belonged to a family at church. As their children matured and left home, they no longer wanted to care for the goats. My young children, Tina and Kurtis, named the goats for their most obvious attributes, their coat colors. Try to understand, for indoor pets we had two goldfish named Goldie and Ugh. Blackie and Whitey were a step up for us in the name department.

My husband and I knew nothing about goats, except the sitter our children went to raised them and drank their milk. We had no interest in goats milk. However, about an acre of our land was covered in blackberries. Knowing goats will eat anything, we thought we could put them to work clearing out the berry vines and giving us more access to our stream.

We would stake the goats down in the berry patch every day where they could drink from the fresh stream water and bring them up to the pen in the evening.

Every morning, before my husband left for work, he led the goats down to the stream and staked them out. Every morning, about 90 minutes later, when I returned from dropping the children off at the bus stop, the goats were grazing on the front lawn. No matter what method he used for restraining them, the two wise and cunning creatures were able to free themselves. They ate the blueberry bushes we planted around our front deck; they also ate the pomegranate bushes I had nurtured to maturity.

They devoured the bark off our young apricot tree. The ravenous goats ate bald spots into our lawns front and back. Our blackberry patch, however, continued to spread.

We decided to give our septic system a respite and feed them food scraps. They picked through the pile very selectively, choosing only what pleased their palates nothing overripe from the vegetable crisper, no orange or banana peels, never an egg shell or watermelon rind. The things their little black noses snubbed we had to go back into their pen and shovel out.

Our vet told us the goats must have hay every day no problem our horses would share. But, they also must have grains something on the order of Purina Goat Chow who even knew there was such a product? The vet also warned it was critical our goats have clean water. Other animals will drink cloudy dirty water not goats.

To make sure you change their water frequently, they walk in it, jump in it if it is off the ground and dirty it several times a day. Life before goats was a boring existence.

It appeared to Tina and me right away, and eventually my husband conceded, our goats were male chauvinists, although they were female goats. They hated women. Tina and I could not approach without them butting at us, often with enough force to knock us off our feet.

The males in our family were never treated so roughly. If my husband called them, they came. If I called them, I braced myself to be blindsided by a head butt. If Tina was riding her bicycle around the property when they were staked out, they would stretch their chains across her path in an attempt to sweep her wheels out from under her and send her flying over the handle bars. Kurtis could ride around unaccosted all day long.

I learned a few things being a goat owner:

1. Goats are discriminating and do not like everyone.

2. There is such a thing as goat chow, also monkey chow and lots of other chows.

3. Goats are discriminating and will not eat anything.

4. Sometimes it is a good idea to look a gift goat in the mouth and just say No!

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Karen R. Hessen is a retired mail carrier who lives in Seaside and Forest Grove. She may be reached at karenwrites@frontier.com. To have your own animal tales considered for Out of the Ark, email Karen.