A few years back, the global warming granola crowd at Portland City Hall thought it would be on-brand to use goat herds to clear a hillside in preparation for expansion of a stretch of Interstate 5. I responded with an eyeroll.
As the LA fires continue to scorch the hills and destroy everything in their path, I've been thinking about those goats.
When they were proposed in Portland, I had questions. It was extravagant and expensive. It was more expensive than humans knocking it out in a few days. I believed it would be distracting to drivers. I spent hours on my radio show pillorying this latest ostentatious display of Portland preciousness.
There was no hate; your humble correspondent has always had appreciation and love for critters. It was just that this proposal smacked more of typical Portland virtue signal and less of serious policy.
In Portland, with a pack of dogs that sometimes numbered seven due to a dogsitting daughter, I saw a Wall Street Journal story about a guy not too far from me who kept sheep to teach dogs how to work the herds. The man said working dogs need to work. I agreed. I wondered if Lucy, my high-energy, mixed-breed sorta-looks-like-a-borderish-collie pound pup, could be taught to herd. Maybe I could get the girl trained up and tired out, I thought. The man told me to bring her over to give her a look. I never did and always wondered if that girl could handle that job.
Related: Video: L.A. Fire Official Pleads With Homeless to Stop Setting Fires
Then came a move back to Southern California. And while hiking in the Orange County hills, I discovered the goats. First came the smell, like my Mor Mor's farm, and then came the welcome by the herd. I fell hard.
It became a game for me. I'd find out the location of the goats on social media and take a hike to find them. My husband came with me sometimes and of course, those coarse-haired, light-eyed vixens completely beguiled him, too. It was a cheap thrill. We didn't have to take them home or feed them. The goats got dinner and we got a show.
One time, a friend wanted to take an early morning walk. I agreed, grabbed Lu, and set out by cell phone light to one of the most pristine places in the OC Hills — or it would have been if we could see it. I held Lu close because I'd brought a less-than-optimum leash.
And then I smelled the goats. I couldn't see the herd and I couldn't hear them but I could tell the pen was close.
We passed where we thought the herd was, and I let Lu off the leash to do her private duty.
And then all of a sudden, I could hear the herd on the move. I ran toward the rumbling sound, and through the dark, I could make out the white parts of the goats. Judging by how the sounds moved, they were going in a figure-eight pattern. I have no idea how she got in that pen but Lucy ran that herd like a boss.
I was simultaneously horrified and thrilled. I commanded her in staccato stage whispers to come to me. No way. I've found my purpose, she told me. This went on for ten minutes, and I thought I had to get her out of there before somebody called a park ranger. I made my decision. I got over the fence and grabbed Lucy. As we were quietly laughing hysterically and speed-walking back to my car, the ranger pulled up. We said good morning and walked on by.
Related: 'Lack of Leadership': L.A. Fire Vet Says No One Prepared Even After Extreme Wind Warnings
The Laguna Beach shepherd and his dog are from Peru, where they still know how to do that sort of thing. His flocks are out there for most of the year to gobble up all the chaparral and brush they can eat instead of letting it bake in the sun and wait for the fires. The Patch reports that the goats do a great job.
Since 2019, Laguna Beach's goat herds have been charged with clearing up to 80 percent of native grasses and 100 percent of non-native vegetation on our hillsides. The goat herd will typically make one pass over each zone. In late 2022, more goat mitigation zones were added to the program in conjunction with hand crews who clear up to 50 percent of the non-native vegetation, herbaceous weeds, and grasses, according to a report from the city. Herbicides are also used, as needed, in certain areas to curtail overgrowth, though goats are the favored mitigation method.
Why doesn't LA do the same thing? That city and state have endless dollars to spend on sanctuaries for trans people looking for free surgeries, illegal aliens eluding the authorities, lawfare to "Trump proof" the state, and money for drug tourists they call "the homeless." Why don't they spend money to buy or rent herds of goats and figure out how to find shepherds? Can't prisoners learn how to be shepherds?
Even the LA Times owner, Dr. Patrick Soon-Shiong, who appears to have been red-pilled by this pointless firestorm and regrets endorsing that worthless woke lady who's the mayor, says goats make sense to him, too.
“You know, I tweeted yesterday something really practical,” says Dr. Patrick Soon-Shiong, who owns the Los Angeles Times. “You can't have fire without fuel, meaning that you need to clean the brush. Well, guess what they do in Laguna? They use goats. I mean, think about it. $400… pic.twitter.com/Loz5Rz2ZUk
— 2WAY (@2waytvapp) January 14, 2025
Herds of goats have cleared land around the Portland Airport and cleared out culverts in Washington State.
LA's got nothing to lose. They should give those goats a try.
