01/19/2026
🩶🐐In Loving Memory of Clementine 🐐 🤍
Clementine was the most amazing little goat there ever was. She lived just shy of 9 months and every single one of those months was such a gift to anyone who was lucky enough to know her.
She came into this world already a fighter, weighing an entire pound less than her twin brother. Those first days were touch and go, but she fought and she made it. She was stronger than any of us ever imagined. She became the most pampered house goat bottle baby ever. She spent 24/7 being coparented by Daisy and I between our houses. She had surrogate chihuahua moms and a two big dog dads. She also ended up with Cosmo (her twin) and Paco the Taco as bottle baby mates.
We weren’t sure she would ever catch up in her growth, and despite supplemental feed, vitamins, a snuggly warm jacket on cold nights, a princess platform bed, and all the things… she never really did. As she grew, it became clear that something wasn’t quite right. She struggled to grow, to maintain muscle, to thrive the way other goats did.
But what she lacked in size, she made up for in heart.
Clem was the happiest little snugglebug you could ever meet. She would cry to be held, demand cuddles, and melt completely when you picked her up. Last night, I was a little late to feeding because I’d attended an event. She greeted me with the rest of the goats, singing their usual chorus of baahs and she twirled around my feet while I put on her jacket and put down her feed.
I picked her up because how could I not? She tucked herself into the crook of my neck and let out that little sigh she’d given me hundreds of times before. Then I put her down, and she went right back to her hay, perfectly content.
This morning, my volunteers found her nearly lifeless at morning feeding. They did everything they could, including CPR, and we rushed her to the emergency vet. But her little heart stopped just as we got there. She left this world surrounded by her “moms,” loved to the very end and beyond.
Clementine likely had a form of dwarfism. We knew she was never quite right. There was a real possibility that her organs would outgrow her tiny little frame or that she had other internal complications we could not see. But as long as she was happy, eating, and doing proper goat things, we chose love. We chose to give her the very best life we could, for however long she was meant to be here.
That life was 9 months. Honestly, 9 months longer than I ever imagined we’d have with her.
This is the hardest part of loving animals. And the part I was most unprepared for is how many hearts break when one is lost. I knew what I signed up for when I started rescuing animals, but I never realized how much I’d be asking of others who come along on the journey with me. These folks are amazing, selfless, and probably also don't really know what they are signing up for when they sign the release form and start learning about the animals and ultimately falling in love with them. And yet, they keep coming back. I really couldn't do this without them. ❤️
To Clem, Clemmy, Clemson, Clem Chowder—
you were the very best little pagoaty anyone could ever have. If only love could have saved you, you would have lived forever.
Go baah and jump around in that big pasture in the sky, sweet girl.
You were so very loved. 🐐✨
-Tami
