Learning to Herd the Goats in Riverside Park’s Annual Goatham Initiative

By Rosemary L. McGinn

Born and raised in Brooklyn, I didn’t encounter a lot of goats in my youth. But, as with so many things, living on the Upper West Side has addressed that gap, with my introduction to the goats of Riverside Park. For six years now, the Riverside Park Conservancy has been conducting the Goatham initiative, hosting a herd of goats in a creative, pesticide-free strategy for clearing overgrowth and unwelcome plant species.

This year the goats have been working on a vegetation-covered slope wedged into Riverside Park at the foot of West 143rd Street. The steep terrain and the abundance of unwelcome flora make it virtually impossible for humans and machines to negotiate. But with their unique rumination and digestion systems (four stomachs!) the spot is perfect for goats and “goatscaping.” Along with invasive species like mugwort, multiflora rose, and porcelain berry, the goats particularly seem to savor that species most daunting to humans: poison ivy.

The name “Gotham” may be inextricably linked to the Batman universe, but it actually means “Goat’s Town” in ancient Anglo-Saxon: The land occupied by Riverside Park was once home to more goats than people. In the past I’ve appreciated the park’s Goatham initiative from a distance, but this year I decided to take the plunge and volunteer to be part of it.

Volunteers work with the initiative’s five goats, on loan from a farm near Rhinebeck, New York: Romeo, Mallomar, Butterball, Kash, and Rufus. And of the two volunteer jobs – herder and patroller – I work as a herder, reporting for an hour of duty every Tuesday morning at 6:30 to help the goats start their day.

Even before showing up for work, I faced a challenge: what to wear. My ancient wellies would have been perfect, but they had just given up the ghost. So I went with Sloggers, gardening shoes that have gotten me through three years of Labradoodle walking. Full-body Tyvek suits are provided on request to those who are hyper-sensitive to the poison ivy. I went with sweat pants and a sturdy long-sleeved shirt. Gloves are a must; I brought my own.

For the most part, my choices were successful – except for the morning that Kash (the Kashmiri goat, who has the longest horns) wanted to nuzzle under my chin, and one of those horns got caught in the neckline of my shirt. The relationship we’d built saved the day: I was able to talk him out of further cuddling. I also built a beautiful relationship with Romeo, who was an expert at accessing higher-up foliage by bending the entire tree down to his level.

Goat herding is physical work. Each goat weighs more than 100 pounds, and when one or more of them don’t really want to “get up and get goating” at dawn, it’s up to volunteers and staff to coax them out. Even if they get a good morning start, some may saunter back later into the tent where they spend the night. Romeo and Mallomar were particularly prone to daytime breaks. In the absence of classic Bo Peep-style crooks, I had to learn the fine art of encouraging without aggravating; hooking a finger under the goat’s collars (which hold GPS transponders) is one way to get them in or out of the tent.

This year more than 70 of us volunteer as herders and patrollers (patrollers comb the perimeter for safety hazards). That’s more than double last year’s goat corps – but just a fraction of the more than 4,500 volunteers who help maintain Riverside Park each year. The goat volunteer group is wildly diverse and has formed a bustling, friendly community with a very active Slack channel. Open shifts are quickly snatched up, updates on conditions and needs are instantly available to all, photos are passed around and commented on.

The goats spend their nights in a catering-type canopy with three windowed canvas walls. A special feature of the enclosure is a huge, industrial-strength broom head, fastened to a post. The goats love it for back-scratching and head-scratching. A highlight of the morning is greeting them as they awaken in this tent. We spray and brush them down to hinder insect infestation and look for any injuries. Then the tent is cleaned, meaning poop is shoveled, soiled bedding replaced, hay feeder bags and water buckets refilled.We’re also called upon to care for other creatures. After a mouse was found drowned in the water supply, all water buckets now have snippets of fencing or other creative “ladders” a trapped creature can use to clamber out. And after a cat and kittens appeared one day, the volunteers collaborated to ensure they were all given safe “forever” homes.

This early-morning close encounter with another species is a spectacular way to start the day. The goats are friendly, even affectionate, and great company, as are the volunteers and staff. The group skews younger, but seniors like me are welcome thanks to the support of endlessly patient staff and volunteers, who made sure my assignments were fun but doable: flooding the water buckets, cuddling with Rufus while checking him for ticks, teetering on the impossibly steep landscape to pick up garbage. 

Within a couple of weeks, the five goats will soon be heading back to Green Goats, a farm that has been in the “goatscaping” business since 2006. As the summer wraps up, I am deeply grateful for this unique experience. While I won’t miss setting my alarm for 5:30 a.m., I’ll miss my new buddies – goats, staff, and volunteers alike.

Check RiversideParkConservancy.org for updates and information, including the conservancy’s online shop featuring goat merch like hats, t-shirts, and bandannas.

https://riversideparknyc.org/all-the-goats-all-the-time-introducing-our-riversidegoats-instagram-account/

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