Tails and Tidings: How Things Got This Way and Goats

I don't want to start a fight.

You know, the old old old argument about Darwin and evolution and how everything got this way? In the interest of keeping on common ground, I'll say something humble, like: I don't think we can know it all. Learning and exploring new theories is sure a fun pursuit, but there's so much we humans don't understand about the workings of our own brain. Our brain, which is the only thing we have to understand anything else with! The folded-up futility of that notion makes me passive and drowsy.

I'm pretty sure of one thing though, if you have an opinion about evolution, you are probably getting it wrong.

First swing! Ha! You going to take that?

So, doesn't the old song go that all things want to evolve to some higher incarnation of themselves, in order that they may better survive and leave all the losers in their dust? Not according to Stephen Jay Gould, one of Geza's favorite scientists.

Many years ago, my smart, interesting husband told me, "Almost everyone misunderstands natural selection." I remember thinking, "Oh good, now let's stop talking about this." I didn't feel like being schooled. Instead I nodded and mmmd. He went on to describe something he was reading, by Mr. Gould, that sounded like a total blur at first, but slowly came into focus as I listened and thought about it. It stayed with me, and it affects the way I approach interaction with most animals, my own family included.

Let's see if I can break it down. Living things are the way they are, because the way things are works better than it doesn't work, for now. A sudden change in environment comes along and forces some traits to the outer edges of the gene pool, leaving behind the most advantageous traits, given the new situation. That's what reproduces most abundantly afterward, so that's what we see all around us. That's all.

Let me try again. Have we all seen one of these?

Pretend the pasta dough is all of the traits possible for any given species. Now, pretend the shape of the hole on the front plate is the environment. As the dough passes through the cut out, what doesn't fit is left behind and what's coming out is shaped exactly like the imposing demands of its environment. Change the circumstances surrounding the organism, and its traits change.

Living things are the way they are because of events that already happened to their genetic ancestors , not because they are striving to be more fit and thus survive better. How does this theory affect Backyard University? To Goat Mountain! (for goats only)


When we planned to get a pet goat and keep it in our backyard, we had lots of helpful friends trying to brace us for what to expect. Goats love to climb and are determined escape artists. The shelter where we adopted her and Tofu wanted to make sure we were aware of goats' hoof care needs.


I know she looks extra cute, but Inez is no different from all the other goats out there. She has needs. We, as her family, must accept that unless we want to make life more difficult for all of us. Who needs that fight?

Naturally, I started thinking of Stephen Jay Gould. I figured Inez was the way she was because of the history of the genes that brought her here.

Did you know that one of goats' persistent behaviors just so happens to aid them with a personal grooming matter? How on earth did goats get by without someone to provide farrier service for them? (That's hoof care.) It has something to do with their endless desire to put their hooves on everything and push against it.

Which came first; the handy ever-renewing hooves for climbing, or the insatiable craving to push their hooves against rocks, thereby filing them down? I don't know and I don't care. I just know I get to trim less off of my goat's hooves, less often, if I provide some little scrap of something resembling what might have been a more natural environment for her.

Granted, I don't know much about what that might really be. There are so many factors to consider and I am but a humble Spanish major. However, I have a faint hunch that our Land of Many Waters is less than ideal for hoof health. (say "hoof health" five times fast and I'll send you an apple-flavored pig treat).

We live in the muddiest town in the world, surrounded by big mountains. I'd love to move to those mountains someday, and take my goat (s?) with me. Until then, we have a mini mountain in our backyard.It was built by Geza, who personally hauled giant rocks from a nearby quarry in order to give Inez the kind of hoof-to-rock action she so richly deserves. I'll still have to trim those hooves, and Inez will never stop trying to climb everything in sight, but she seems very happy with this opportunity to put her instincts to good use.

NO KIDS ALLOWED! UNLESS YOU'RE A GOAT!

She was already giving the rouge rose bush I jammed into the top of it a run for its money when we left. She can climb it deftly and looks around from the highest spot in the yard, surveying her pig and dogs like a proud queen who just enjoyed a nice little climb. I have a feeling she'll love it, even on rainy days.