Goats Are Back to Neary Lagoon

As soon as we were back from Madison, WI, in June, I walked to Neary Lagoon to see if there was any goat action. As luck would have it, I saw a City Parks and Recreation colleague setting up chicken wire fences along the wooden ramp. 

"Are goats are coming?" asked I.

"Yes, they are coming this Friday. But they are not goats this time, but sheep," the colleague informed me. 

I was overjoyed nonetheless. Since 2016, our family has been following those diligent goats that tackle and clean wild grass and bushes in Neary Lagoon. As long as they can graze, I really did not mind if they were goats or sheep. "How long are they going to stay," I asked again. "Until next Friday," he replied. I thanked him profusely, and left fully content. It turned out that we had goats after all this year. Moreover, two Pauls and I returned to the Lagoon more than once. 

This Year's Goats

We loved to see our browsing friends for multiple reasons. Annual grazing goats have been the Lagoon's maintenance guardians for many years. They do a much more thorough cleaning job than humans. After goats who have stripped and uprooted weeds and shrubs, the land has a better chance to recover and be nourished with goats' rich droppings. Their work not only benefits the land, but also provided a golden opportunity for winged creatures, particularly countless swifts who were darting from one direction to another, delighted at catching disturbed insects that had nowhere to hide, but to be devoured. 

Leni in July 2023, Neary Lagoon

Visiting Goats is an integral part of our family tradition. Since 2023, Paul and I  have been taking Leni, and now Paulie to the Lagoon, in order to let them learn firsthand about their four-legged friends, in addition to their pet hamsters and rats. Two siblings have indeed developed a tender love for those lovely animals, their habitats, family bonds, and love.

Paulie Feeds His Favorite Doe 2026

It is always exciting to see our annual grazing goats return, but sad to see them leaving when the two sides of the wooden ramp become poignantly quiet and empty. Only their dark droppings, and stripped twigs remind us of their quick visit and thorough cleaning work. 

See you later, our friends