Meet the Goats of River Ranch
Around here, the sourdough starter isn’t the only thing with a big personality. Our herd of goats keeps River Ranch brimming with mischief, affection, and more stories than we could ever fit into one campfire evening. This post gathers the heartfelt, humorous tales and tucks them into a cozy blog format so you can visit your favorite barnyard characters anytime.
Each goat has their own backstory, favorite snacks, and signature antics. Pour yourself a mug of something warm, imagine the crunch of gravel under your boots, and come say hello to the River Ranch herd: Maggie, Berry, Whiskey, Kovu, Iris, Nala, Bambi, Maui, Lilo, Moose, Rodeo, Herschel, and Cowboy.
Maggie
Maggie, my purebred Lamancha, is the undisputed queen of my heart and of this little homestead. Magnolia Bloom is her full, regal name, and from the moment I brought her home, I dreamed she would be my once-in-a-lifetime show goat. When she freshened for the first time and developed mastitis, that dream shattered in an instant. She didn’t lose her udder, but it healed uneven, and with it came a heavy fear that I might one day lose her altogether. I loved her too much to risk it. I promised myself I would never breed her again, because the thought of her going through that pain—or of saying goodbye to her—was more than I could bear. Three long years went by while I wrestled with that fear. I watched her, cared for her, and felt my hope quietly tugging at my heart. Finally, with a deep breath and a shaky kind of courage, I decided to try again, praying that maybe, just maybe, her udder would even out and her body would be kind to her this time. It never did even out, but Maggie gave me something far more precious than perfect symmetry. She milked beautifully and, as the sweetest gift, she gave me a daughter—little Iris. Maggie will forever be my heart goat, the one who carried my first big dreams and taught me what it means to love an animal so deeply it changes you. I am endlessly grateful that Iris is here too, a piece of Maggie’s spirit running and grazing in my pasture, keeping that bond alive in my herd and in my life.
Berry
Berry is a LaMancha–Nubian cross and the shining star of our goat milk operation. She’s a wonderfully heavy milker who takes her work to heart and knows her job inside and out. All I have to do is open the gate and she walks straight to the stanchion with calm, confident purpose, as if she’s been doing it her whole life. Berry has only been with us for a couple of years, but she has settled so deeply into our days that I can’t imagine the ranch without her, and I truly love and cherish her.
Whiskey
Whiskey is also a LaMancha–Nubian cross, and from the very beginning Whiskey and I have shared a deep, hard-won bond. When she first joined our farm, she went down fast. Barber pole. If you’ve ever walked through that with a goat, you know the knot of fear in your stomach and the way the worry keeps you up at night. Her recovery was a LONG road—full of second‑guessing, exhausted early mornings, late‑night checks, and more research and trial‑and‑error than I ever imagined. There were moments I was terrified we were going to lose her, but we just kept showing up for her, one small step at a time. With patience, prayer, and a lot of gentle, around‑the‑clock care, she finally turned the corner. Today, seeing her out in the field as one of the spunkiest goats in the herd feels like a quiet miracle. Every time she kicks up her heels, I’m reminded why we pour so much heart into this little homestead and the animals we share it with.
Kovu
Kovu is another lovely LaMancha-Nubian who fits right in with my obvious favorite type. Kovu freshened for the first time last year; she was dam-raised, and together we climbed a steep learning curve. She has come into her own beautifully, and I’m confident that this next kidding season she’ll shine as the standout doe she’s meant to be.
Iris
Iris is my sweet baby doll angel, the light of our little herd. She is everything her mother was as a kid and somehow even more—soft-eyed, gentle, endlessly sweet, and always on the lower end of the herd’s pecking order. Yet she is also the biggest kid, all legs and promise, and I can already see the queen she is growing into. I have no doubt that, with a little more time to bloom, she will carry herself with the same quiet grace and strength as her mother, and my heart could not be more proud or more excited to watch her become that girl.
Nala
Nala is Nubian Lamancha as well, and she is the reason I found my way back to goats. After Maggie’s mastitis, my heart was broken; I sold out of my dairy goats and held on only to my pets, convinced that season of my life was over. But when I decided I might be ready to try again, I saw Nala—and in that instant, everything changed. We went to pick her up, and it was truly love at first sight. She’s as devoted and playful as a puppy dog, always at my side, and I honestly owe it all to her for gently leading me back and helping me rediscover that deep, everyday joy of loving goats again.
Bambi
Bambi is Nala’s daughter and earned her name because our cameras keep insisting her mama is a deer in disguise. Bambi is tiny, portable trouble. She’s an itty bitty thing with a PhD in escape tactics and absolutely refuses to stay in the pasture with the other goats. Her dream job is “full-time front yard goat,” greeting every car, delivery driver, and unsuspecting visitor. If you come to visit, odds are she’ll be the first one you meet. She’s sweet as pie, cuddly as can be, and just the right amount of naughty—and I adore her for it.
Maui
Maui is a purebred Nubian and truly the dream that carries my hopes of getting back into showing goats again. She’s a breathtakingly stunning goat, with that classic Nubian grace, and somehow she’s every bit as gentle and sweet as she is beautiful.
Lilo
Lilo is truly the ringleader of chaos. She’s the spitting image of her mother and acts exactly like her father, which is a dangerous combination. Her father is convinced he’s a cow, and honestly, so is she. She doesn’t even bother pretending to be a goat anymore—if you’re looking for her, skip the goat pen and head straight to the cows. That’s where she’ll be, blending in like she owns the place. She may be in the middle of a full-blown identity crisis, but she’s so beautiful and so full of personality that I can’t help but love her to pieces.
Moose
Moose. Montana. Montana Moose. Moose. This poor guy has gone through more name changes than a soap recipe I can’t stop tweaking. Moose is also the reason we can’t have nice fence. Moose is, well, the size of a moose. He loves to plant his front feet on the fence, ride it down like a playground toy, and leave us staring at yet another wavy line of wire. I can’t tell you how many fence repairs we’ve done solely because of Moose. Moose is a sweet boy, and the farm just wouldn’t be the same without him—though our fencing would probably sleep a lot easier at night.
Rodeo
Rodeo really doesn’t need much of an introduction. He was my very first goat, and the only buck on the place up until this year. He absolutely does not know he’s a goat. In his mind, he’s a bull, just like his best friend Waffles. He’s smelly and stubborn, but we like to brag that he’s the best buck in Tennessee. He’s got all the manners when it comes to handling him, and I’m grateful—because if you’re going to smell that bad, you’d better at least behave. Rodeo will forever be a part of River Ranch.
Herschel
Herschel is absolutely stunning and so incredibly sweet that he’s already stolen our hearts. I am beyond excited to watch him grow and mature here at River Ranch. We hadn’t really planned on adding another buck, but with Rodeo getting older and being short legged, we knew it was time to bring in something new and special. Herschel is a Nubian, full of promise, and we can’t wait to see all the potential he brings to our little homestead.
Cowboy
Cowboy has quite the story and has personally taught me most of what I know about goat emergencies. When I bought Cowboy, the trip home was awful. I didn’t bring a cage; I decided to hold him. Big mistake. Huge. It was messy and not even a little bit pleasant. Do not do that. Bring a cage. After he was finally old enough to be banded, we found out he was cryptorchid, meaning one of his testicles was retained. So instead of a simple banding, he had to be surgically altered. But that’s not even the worst of what we’ve survived together with Cowboy. Then he got blocked. Because of course he did. Thankfully, the vet I was working for is an absolutely outstanding goat vet, and she was able to fix him. Twice. We even added a field trip to the university vet school for extra fun. From that moment on, Mr. Cowboy has been strictly no grain of any sort, ever. Next up on the Cowboy chronicles: broken leg. How did he do it? No clue. Goats will be goats. He had to have his leg casted and needed around-the-clock care. He healed well but still has a bit of a limp, his signature cowboy swagger. These days he stays in the front yard so I can keep a full-time eye on him. Goats are herd animals; they need other goat friends. Not Cowboy. He thinks he’s people. He gets very upset during baby season when the front yard isn’t just his anymore. But he’s made it to 7 years old—something I never would have imagined—and I love him dearly.
Together, Maggie, Berry, Whiskey, Kovu, Iris, Nala, Bambi, Maui, Lilo, Moose, Rodeo, Herschel, and Cowboy turn River Ranch into more than a homestead—they make it a living, bleating, hay-scented love story. Thank you for taking the time to meet them here. If you ever find yourself wandering up our drive, don’t be surprised if one of these familiar faces is waiting at the gate to say hello first.
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