300 Goats

“300 Goats” is a contemporary poem of 15 double-spaced lines, with no formal pattern of rhyme or meter. It is written from the point of view of a first-person speaker in an informal, conversational tone. “Three hundred” is an even and specific number—large enough to require the imagination to do some work to picture what that quantity of goats would look like. After the title, which introduces the reader to the subject of the poem, the speaker provides a setting and some tension: The goats are “[i]n icy fields” (Line 1). The openness of the vowel sounds of icy and fields supports the image of a cold and open expanse.

The goats’ precarious situation is underscored when the speaker asks, “Is water flowing in the tank?” (Line 2). The grammar is passive, but the anxiety of the question suggests someone is, or should be, responsible for making sure the goats have flowing, drinkable water. The speaker, in the next question, wonders if the goats will “huddle together” (Line 3) for warmth. In the imaginations of both the speaker and the reader, 300 goats—an abstract—becomes an intimate few in physical proximity.

The next three lines go off on an associative tangent as the speaker wonders if, in the Chinese zodiac, it is “the year of the goat or the sheep” (Line 4). Goats are often depicted as feisty, friendly, and opportunistic; sheep are passive. The Chinese character in the zodiac is the same for both. What does it mean for it to be the year of the goat, or for a human to share characteristics with sheep? The leap seems to pose questions about how people choose to understand themselves in relation to animals.

“O lead them to a warm corner” (Line 7) begins a kind of blessing that the speaker bestows on the goats. The speaker petitions an unknown entity to guide the goats to shelter from the piercing cold. The solutions the speaker suggests are earthly—the shared heat of one another’s bodies and a feature in the landscape that would block the wind. Rather than trust that the goats will think of those options on their own, she calls on someone or something—a form of guidance—that is external to the goats themselves.

The speaker is aware of time and “[a]nother frigid night swooping down” (Line 10). At last, she admits her anxiety to her friend the rancher, who is the keeper of the goats and the sole resident of the ranch: “Aren’t you worried about them?” (Line 11). The rancher friend lives in the same space as the goats, is responsible for them, and presumably observes them on a regular basis. The speaker lives far away and can only imagine the experience of the goat ranch.

The rancher’s response is devoid of the speaker’s anthropomorphism. The rancher “shrugs” (Line 14) and says, “they know what to do” (Line 15). To her mind, the goats will manage the cold based on their goat instincts for survival. It’s conceivable that when the rancher says, “Not really” (Line 14), that she factors in the possibility of losing a goat or two to the harsh conditions. Death is not only a reality but a certainty—and a regular fact of ranch life. Still, according to the rancher, goats are their own best bet for survival, at least in the conditions set by the poem.

“300 Goats” offers at least two notions of how people perceive and relate to animals. The end of the poem is humorous, but while the last line seems to provide an “ah-ha!” moment of reckoning—animals can take care of themselves—it’s difficult to dismiss the speaker’s anxiety. Hers is an anxiety that focuses on the goats and reverberates into society as a whole. What changes when humans use animals for purpose and profit? What are the responsibilities? In a metaphorical sense, the speaker poses questions about individual and collective ways of being, thinking, and acting. Individually and collectively, if human beings continue to negatively impact the environment at breakneck speed, it might become unreasonable to expect animals to adapt as quickly and survive.