There are goats in my house and I can’t hide, to misquote The Fall.

During the week, after a particularly heavy storm, we rescued two lost/abandoned baby goats from the side of the mountain. They probably got separated from the mother and washed down the steep slope in the rain. One was fairly weak, but they both survived the night.

There they are, two black baby goats on the balcony, viewed through the screen door.

Adventures in goat nutrition

The female was stronger and took milk fairly much immediately. The male was weaker and needed some encouragement. Just when we thought baby bottles, formula, and cleaning up poo were in the past…

The goats out exploring the rocks.

Living in the high mountains is great for having people who are experts in the most random rural things imaginable, like this. Local shepherds, forestry agents, any manner of rural types on hand. It turns out that one of the mamas from the school is a shepherd with 450 goats! She was immediately enthusiastic and full of good advice. For example, stop feeding them regular (cows’) milk because it will give them diarrhea. We pretty quickly switched to supermarket goats’ milk, which seems kind of obvious in hindsight.

Most of the advice we got from non-expert locals was fairly brutal and centered around how to kill the baby goats as quickly as possible. I think people have the idea that myself and Rebecca are some kind of soft urbanites who need to be educated in the brutal ways of the countryside. Buddy, this ain’t true. I grew up shooting and skinning animals, and Rebecca as a child lived on a farm, riding horses.

Anyway, the children are having a blast feeding the goats, so we’re keeping them, until we hand them over to the shepherdess.

Closeup of one goat, dark black against the early sun on the rocks.

Even on the inappropriate cows’ milk they were both stronger after just one day. Two black goats in the sunshine, under a wooden stepladder.

In summary, at this point, it is fair to say that the goats are doing well. Here’s our own shepherdess, Saoirse, looking after them in the garden. The little one is the female and she’s was given the name Taffy. Finding a name for the bigger-but-weaker male took a while but the children finally settled on Mystery. Other suggested names for him were Midnight and Agamemnon.

Out and about

When they became a bit stronger we took them for a walk, out to one of the new, favourite swimming spots on the river. They weren’t keen on getting wet, but they did follow the family along the road.

On the way back they were tired and had to be carried home through the field.

Like toddlers, when they get tired, they get tired very suddenly. We’ve also discovered that if we carry the baby female, then the baby male will follow along, but it doesn’t work the other way around.

Attempted family reunion

A few days into this adventure, quite early on a Sunday morning, a neighbour phoned to say that were some goats on the mountain ridge above our house, particularly a black one that might be the mother of our ‘orphans.’ Cue early-morning climbing expedition to reunite the goat family.

This is what we found… a black goat peering down from a rocky outcrop at what might be her missing babies.

She was wary of approaching them, given how we were there too, so we backed off a good bit. She kept calling down to them but also had a close eye on us the whole time.

Here she is, a black goat on the ridge, eyeballing us. You can see the hydroelectric station on the mountain opposite.

You can see the whole village from up there! Even one of the neighbours watering his garden. Panoramic view of Llavorsí from high above, like a helicopter photo.

In the end, despite the bleating back and forth, it didn’t work out. The mother eventually came down to them, but didn’t stay long. She tried to coax them along with her (I think) but it seemed like she wasn’t sure. I have no idea how maternal or otherwise goats are. Possible the kids smell of humans too much now. The shepherdess says that it’s likely they didn’t recognise the mother and have imprinted Rebecca as their mother. When she goes about the place all dressed in black, the pair of them definitely follow her around.

Baby goats under a shady rock, looking upwards at the mother.

All safely back home now. Here’s a short video of the pair of them learning how to go up and down steep rockfaces.

No doubt there will be further adventures.