Millie’s Story: Why Goat Herding Ethics Matters
Millie was born on January 17 to a fire abatement herd — one of hundreds of goats used across California to clear brush and reduce wildfire risk. She was a Nubian doe, just a few days old when her mother rejected her. In her first 72 hours of life, she was stepped on and left without the warmth and protection a baby goat desperately needs. The shepherds, overwhelmed with the demands of a large working herd, did something rare: they reached out for help.
We received Millie at 4 a.m. on her 8th day of life. She was tiny, injured, and hungry. We fed her a warm bottle, helped her pee and poop, and wrapped her in a blanket where she melted into sleep. She couldn’t use her back leg at all. We got her to the vet within days — soft tissue damage, they said. Painkillers and antibiotics brought her comfort, and for the first time, she could rest.
Millie spent her early days at Zephyr snuggled in a playpen indoors. She bonded with Dixie, our Aussie mix, who kept her safe and joined her on short, bouncy walks. Our daughters bottle-fed her, carried her in blankets, and giggled with her in the sun. She was silly. She was happy. She was pure love.
But we made a mistake.
In hopes of creating a partnership with the herd’s caretakers — people we believed were responsible — we agreed to return Millie to be re-integrated with the other orphans once she healed. She needed to bond with other goats, we told ourselves. We thought we were doing the right thing. We returned her on February 28.
When we visited on March 8, she looked healthy but was distant — unsure. On March 21, we came back. We searched everywhere, and the shepherds didn’t know where she was. We found her body under a bush. She had been dead one to two days. No one had noticed.
Millie’s death wasn’t an accident. It was a system failure — the predictable outcome of treating goats like tools. Her story isn’t rare. It's just usually unseen.
That’s why we created Goat Herding Ethics — not to endorse the use of goats in fire abatement, but to meet the reality with advocacy. Because as long as goats are being bred and worked, we must speak for them.
Here’s what Millie needed — and what every young goat in a working herd deserves:
Wellness checks, twice daily. If you can’t keep eyes on them, you shouldn’t have them.
Smaller enclosures for young or orphaned goats. Free-ranging babies without moms is not freedom — it’s exposure.
Protection from chill. Without a mother’s warmth, it's the shepherd’s responsibility.
Accountability. Breeding animals without the means to care for them isn't nature. It’s neglect.
Millie wasn’t “just a goat.” She was someone. And she deserved more time.
If you’re a herder, landowner, or contractor using goats for land management — we’re not here to judge you. But we are here to ask you to do better. And to show you how.
Millie’s story starts our initiative. Let it also start a new standard.
