The Theory of "Benign Neglect" - Can It Work for Us?

A neglected goat is a healthy goat? How can this be?

I discovered this idea recently in a goat manual - the author proposes that goats are best raised as close as possible to what their lives would be like in the "wild" (wherever that is) - disdaining such unnatural things as chemical dewormers, food treats, collars, and anything else which elevates the goat to the status of a household pet. His hearty goats forage for their own food, drink cold water (gasp!) and somehow know exactly which plants have medicinal properties when they need them. The author claims that his herd, raised under the concept of benign neglect, are happier, healthier and more productive than any pampered caprine. We decided to give it a try.

I felt it was only fair to warn Em and Ellie first - there would be no more animal crackers, no more ginger snaps. Gone will be morning bottles, aloe vera juice, those little bowls of mineral supplements they love so much. No more night-light in the shed - wild goats don't have the luxury of electric lighting, after all, and I'll have to get rid of their rubber mats, Emerson's plastic slide and Ellie's favorite Adirondack chair. After a few days you won't miss those apple snacks...it's for your own good. Toughen up, boys. You'll see...

Emerson head-butted me, then dashed off to practice standing on rocks, but Elliot just stood there meekly, rubbing his scabby chin on my leg. Something was bothering him...

"What's wrong, sweetie?" I asked. "Aren't you excited about the new happier, healthier you?"

I had to bend down close to hear his plaintive reply - as I looked right into those gorgeous blue eyes, he pleaded, "But Mommy, what about my coffee pot?"

Ah, yes, I had forgotten about that. Somehow a few weeks ago Elliot started drinking water only
from a miniature glass coffee carafe, don't ask me why - I think all the water bowls were frozen solid and I just grabbed the first container I saw. Emerson will still drink from the bowl, as long as the water is properly heated and poured fresh from their chickadee teapot,  but Ellie waits eagerly for his tiny coffee pot, slurping it dry as I refill it three or four times. Of course I can't leave a breakable glass carafe outside in the pen, so this has become a process repeated several times a day. Hot water, teapot, carafe...now all I need is a tray of scones and a lace tablecloth.

Maybe benign neglect is not going to work for us after all...