Coffee Can Goat
A little goat gets a second chance at life.
Reading Time: 6 minutes
In 25 years with goats, I’ve come across some strange things. I never would’ve believed I’d come across a goat in the middle of the road with her head stuck in a coffee can, but that’s what happened when I was driving home from work one night — my regular route, just a bit later than usual. Never once had I seen any goats on my way home until there, in the middle of Willow Road, was what I first thought was a dog with a muzzle on its face. As I pulled closer and slowed, I realized it was a very small goat with its entire head stuck inside a metal coffee can. It was weaving slightly in place as it stood there.
I parked and, making as little sound as possible, not wanting to startle it, I stepped close, reached around, and closed both hands around its upper front legs in case it ran when it realized I was there. It was a tiny thing and startled a little, but didn’t try to run, and I could hear its raspy breathing inside the can.
Can Conundrum
I tried to remove the can, thinking it would be an easy fix. It was just wide enough that the goat’s small horns had been able to slide inside, but then they hooked on the inside of the rim and were quite stuck. I could almost bend the can to get one horn loose, but when I tried, the goat started struggling and released a gurgling cry. I slid the can back to where it had been, the goat stopped struggling, and its breathing eased. I had only my pocketknife, which wasn’t safe or strong enough to use on this metal can with a goat’s head inside.
With no other choice, I picked the goat up, can and all, and was about to walk back to my van when a car came down the road. I waved it down and asked the driver if he knew who might have a goat in that area. He didn’t and had no tools to remove the can, so he continued on his way. I flagged down a second car on my walk back to my van and got the same answers.
So, the three of us—the goat, the coffee can, and myself—got into the driver’s seat of my van.
As we drove to the nearest house, I realized the goat smelled terrible. Maybe it had been kept in a pig pen or a filthy barn. I couldn’t quite put my finger on the scent, but it wasn’t pleasant.
A quick look ascertained that the goat was a young doe, likely still a kid based on the size and lack of udder development.
We pulled into the nearest driveway and found a gentleman working on his porch with a wonderful array of tools at hand. I explained the odd situation, and he was happy to help with his tin snips. I held the goat, and he very carefully snipped the can and peeled it back from her face.
Source of the Smell
As we removed the can, maggots started to fall onto his garage floor. The source of the smell turned out to be deep wounds on the goat’s neck and both sides of her jaw. The lip of the can had rubbed the one on her neck, and, as her face swelled with infection, the can rubbed more and more on her jaw. The wounds were full of maggots, and the one in her neck was so deep that her trachea was partially exposed. I thanked the kind gentleman, and we returned to the van and continued home.
As soon as I got inside, I offered her a small amount of lukewarm water. She drank it all and wanted more, but I told her she needed to wait just a bit. We had to take this slow; I had no idea how many days she’d gone without water. I washed, cleaned, and picked maggots out of the wounds for about 20 minutes. Once I was sure they were all out, I offered her more water, and she drank another couple of cups.
I disinfected the wounds and slathered them with a tallow balm infused with healing plants. Then she got a shot of tetanus antitoxin, an antibiotic, Banamine, and probiotics.
Time and Treatment
She looked like a Nigerian Dwarf doe. Not a weanling but less than a year old. She wasn’t overly skinny but still needed to put on some pounds. I had no way to know how long she’d been stuck in that can, but it had to have been more than a day for those wounds to be that bad.
I set up a comfortable pen with shelter, hay, water, and a bit of grain. Over the next few days, it became apparent that although I had saved her from the coffee can, she wasn’t a big fan of humans. And it didn’t help that twice a day, I needed to catch her, clean her wounds, and cover them again with tallow balm.
One of the most important steps in healing more extensive wounds is keeping the edges clean and moist enough to knit together. In my experience, tallow balm does this well, with less scabbing and scar tissue growth and faster healing. The balm I use is made of goat tallow from my own herd and infused with plants that have healing properties, such as comfrey, plantain, and arnica. It also has essential oils that help deter flies.
As she became stronger, it got harder to catch her for treatment. So, I built a catch pen in the corner to make things easier. When her healing was well on its way, I started treating her wounds once a day, then every other day. I pulled blood and sent it in to be tested for diseases and pregnancy. Her results were negative for everything, which was good for her future. She grew visibly stronger by the day.
Healing and Home
Her wounds healed amazingly fast. I documented the progress with daily photos and could see changes between one day and the next. It was a testament to her strength.
I was, of course, calling her “Coffee.”
Although I inquired in the nearby towns, no one was missing a goat. No one seemed to be looking for her. Unfortunately, keeping her wasn’t in my plans. I don’t have miniature goats; I have very large LaMancha and Savanna bucks. The idea of this tiny goat possibly getting “oops” bred to any of them wasn’t something I was comfortable with.
So, once she was completely healed and two months had passed, I found a friend who wanted to give her a good home with her herd of Nigerian Dwarf goats. Coffee went to her new family and never looked back. I get updates on her, and they’ve all been good. I must admit, Coffee was the strangest thing I’ve ever found on my way home from work.
EMILY DIXON lives in the Ozarks of southern Missouri. She started with a hodgepodge of goats in 2000 before quickly focusing on LaMancha and Nubian dairy goats. She also kept a small commercial Boer herd for about 10 years and had a three-year stint milking a large commercial dairy herd. She now concentrates on registered LaManchas and recorded-grade dairy goats for milk and meat. She also keeps beef cows and an always-fluctuating menagerie of dogs and cats. Her passion is her family, farm, animals, and humane, compassionate dairy and meat production.
Originally published in the June 1, 2025 digital issue of Goat Journal
