Yoki, Moritz and Jamie
How three Swiss goats provide a simple ecosystem and a special bond with their keepers.
Every time I visit Switzerland, I am charmed by my sister's three goats. Yoki, the black leader of the group, likes to greet me with a wet kiss every morning. Moritz, the goat with the silky, brown coat, gives paws, and Jamie, the gray-haired billy goat, loves to headbutt with his comrades.
As we know from famous literature, goats have a special place in the human heart.
Let me quote Johanna Spyri's novel Heidi, where Heidi meets the flock of animals for the first time high up on the pasture in the mountains:
"Heidi jumped up and ran in and out among them, for it was new to her to see the goats playing together like this, and her delight was beyond words as she joined in their frolics; she made personal acquaintance with them all in turn, for they were like separate individuals to her, each single goat having a particular way of behavior of its own."
I can not write about goats in literature without mentioning the dramatic short story by Polish-American writer Isaac Bashevis Singer’s Zlateh the Goat. Singer tells the story of reluctant Aaron, a young boy who has to walk Zlateh, the family goat, to a remote town to be slaughtered. His family is in desperate need of money to buy food. Their beloved goat does not suspect anything about being taken into town, as she has been remarkably well taken care of and has come to trust her owners. The weather suddenly takes a turn for the worse, and Aaron and Zlateh are caught in a blizzard. Aaron gets lost as the snow covers his path. He finds a huge pile of hay in a field and digs out a shelter for him and his goat. Zlateh keeps Aaron warm and provides milk during the three days the snowstorm lasts. The boy and the goat develop a special bond, where Aaron begins to view Zlateh not simply as his pet but more like a friend. After a frightful search, the two are found, and after hearing the story of how their son was kept alive by Zlateh's milk and her warmth, the family decide to keep the goat.
Back to Yoki, Moritz and Jamie. They spend their days outdoors in a pasture equipped with climbing rocks and wooden platforms during nice weather. Conny, my sister, herds them inside the shed at night, where they get their evening meal and sleep in the straw. My nieces taught them to give paws and walk upright to receive a special treat as they run freely around the farm.
The many apple trees in the orchard, hay, and carrots provide most of the food for Yoki, Moritz, and Jamie. The goat's manure fertilizes the big raised vegetable beds, which my brother-in-law built. After a long day in the office with meetings and complicated clients, my sister, a social worker, de-stresses in the evening tending to her goats.
Only my 90-year-old mom complains once in a while about the horned pets because they love to eat her pretty flowers or destroy her winter decoration. But she still adores Yoki, Moritz, and Jamie, for they provide happiness and a joyful ecosystem.