Jack

If I was going to write about Jack the goat, I’d start with how he used to hate men. When he first got to the farm, he’d push anyone he didn’t like—usually men--into a wall or a gate or just keep pushing till they fell over or started to run or called out for help. No expression on his face, he just kept pushing. It didn’t matter that he’d never met the person before. We’d be cleaning the barn and Jack would come over to any male and push and not stop till we separated him into a pen and he’d go back to grazing.

Jack was bigger and stronger than pretty much any human male and just didn’t like them, not giving them a chance to explain themselves or maybe say that they’re not like the men at the slaughterhouse who owned Jack and Joy and bred them to get baby goats for meat. We don’t know what Jack saw, just how he felt about it.

Now Jack has been at the sanctuary for a while and he doesn’t just tolerate men, he gives them a chance. Why waste time head-butting or pushing, when there are so many other good things, like hay and grass and getting brushed--and sometimes it’s even the men who brush him. 

We fall for Jack because he’s strong but he knows what it is to be hurt and then also to let something different come in to melt the angry rocky places.

With all of his strength and the glimmers of old anger that come out rarely now, he has the capacity to be with us, to come over to connect and every time it’s an honor. Kneel down and have Jack put his big goat hoof in your hand or on your lap and it’s like having a mountain lion fall asleep next to you or a Percheron lay down by your side or a thunderstorm soften around you to a mist as night falls and all is well and there’s no need anymore for anguish or anger.  Jack comes over to stand with you and the peace reaches deep into the hearts of you both.