I have a secret: I want to be a goat herder when I graduate high school. Just kidding. Although, if my future profession as a missionary does not go as planned, goat farming, here I come.

My grandparents just bought a farm last summer and along with the other animals, they bought Nigerian dwarf goats. We have five of them [goats] whose names are: Barry, Oliver, Belle, Georgia. Figgy, the smallest of them, happens to be my goat. The names might sound funny for goats, but I assure you most of them have a story. Barry is named after Barry Allen (The Flash), Oliver is named after Oliver Queen (Green Arrow), and Figgy is named after the most famous Arabella Figg from Harry Potter.

Surprisingly, it is not that hard when shopping for a goat. As long as you find a good breeder and a good looking goat, you can have a functioning farm in no time. The reason my grandparents got the goats was to breed them and eventually sell them to make money. Other reasons to have goats would be to make milk or cheese- or for next week’s dinner. Do not worry about that with us, though. We have them purely for profit; no goat burgers at our house.

Taking care of goats is a simple task. Just like any animal, you have to give it food and water. Since the goats live in a field, they have all of their necessities nearby. They mainly roam around and eat the grass and get water out of the pond. However, a downside to having small animals on the farm is coyotes try to get in and grab them for a snack at night. That being said, we had to hot-wire the fences to keep the other varmints out.

When Figgy, my favorite goat, was little, she was what you might call an “escape artist.” She did not like to be caged while the other goats roamed around, so she escaped quite often. It was odd that she kept getting out because the fence was at least four feet tall and she was only about a foot-and-a-half tall. Strangely, we found out she would jump on to the wall, climb out of the fence, and run away. I was not the one to chase her, although I heard multiple stories from my Uncle Jared of how he had to chase her all the way around the farm to make sure she was safe. I guess we should have named her “Hairy” Houdini.

Another entertaining story is about our goat Barry. His story is closely related to Figgy’s. However, not only did he escape, but he got mixed in with a whole different crowd. After climbing up the stall wall, Barry escaped successfully into the pig pen with the two pigs that were nearly 10 times his size. Although I was not there to see this play out personally, I heard that it was quite the experience for Barry. Even though this sounds hilarious, it was actually utter “hog”-wash.

I might not really want to be a goat farmer, but it is definitely a really interesting job. Whether you decide to take care of your own goats, that is entirely up to you; whatever floats your goat, I guess