The goat first showed signs that she was going into labor at 10:30 p.m. She expelled a certain kind of discharge, similar to when a woman’s water breaks. She nickered during contractions. And of the estimated 145 to 155 days of a goat’s gestation period, this was day 148.

All of this meant one thing to Ingela Wanerstrand: She wasn’t sleeping inside that night.

Wanerstrand dragged a sleeping bag into her Ballard backyard, where pregnant Noni lives in a custom-built barn. She curled onto a pad on top of the hay, shutting the door between the barn and the milking shed to allow Noni some privacy.

“She’s kind of a shy goat,” Wanerstrand said. “I thought, ‘I’ll just let her do it herself, and if she needs me, I’m nearby.’”

A yelp woke Wanerstrand from her makeshift bed at 3:30 a.m. Anxious, she checked on her pet. Noni had just given birth to two females.

Wanerstrand, a landscaper designer, is part of a growing brood of city-dwellers who have converted their backyard lawns into urban farms. A longtime gardener, Wanerstrand took the next step three years ago when she purchased her first chickens, fashioning her own coop to house them and collect their one-egg-per-day yield.

The goats followed about a year ago: first Ernest P. Merriweather—who, most of the time, simply goes by Ernie—and then Noni, her doe.

Wanerstrand is one of about 12 people in Seattle who keep goats and the only one in Ballard.

A Growing Trend

The morning after Noni gave birth, doelings Freja and Maybell were already trying to stand up—albeit on wobbly legs. Mom was never too far behind, guarding them with a wary maternal eye.

“She was such a good mother,” Wanerstrand said. “She knew exactly what to do. She’s constantly nudging them and talking to them and keeping track of them. It’s just amazing.”

Wanerstrand said at first she was inspired to get goats after she found she was allergic to cow milk. They also made fertilizer for her garden full of berries and other edibles. Now, they’re part of her family. Ernie bleats sadly when Wanerstrand retreats into her house, not wanting to be left alone while Noni is occupied by her brood.

Goats weren’t always legal in Seattle. In 2007, Jennie Grant of Madrona bought her first goats for milk and as pets—“Sort of a combo animal,” she said.

She knew it was illegal to keep farm animals in the city.

“I thought, well, ‘Who’s to say what a farm animal is?’” Grant said. “It’s really kind of a culturally subjective definition.”

When a neighbor a few blocks away outed her, Grant wrote to the Seattle City Council and formed the Goat Justice League. With the support of Councilmember Richard Conlin, she and 1,000 others who signed a petition convinced Seattle that goats were pets, and they were tacked onto the list of allowed domestic animals, right next to cats and dogs. Resident are allowed up to three small animals.

Wanerstrand joined the effort.

“Goats are much like keeping dogs,” Wanerstrand said. “They’re not much more work.”

Learning How

For Seattleites who want to convert their backyards into mini farms, Seattle Tilth offers a City Goats 101 class, which Grant co-teaches.

She coaches potential goat owners on what kind of space they need, what type of fencing, what type of housing, what to feed them and what to expect when a goat gives birth.

It can be tough in the city. The nearest feed store is half an hour away. Goats can be noisy when they’re in heat. And, residents have to be clever with their space so the goats don’t get bored.

“I have a box that serves as a storage container that keeps hay dry, but [my goats] can also jump on it,” Grant said. “I have stairs they like to play on. I want to redo my goat shed so they can play on the roof.”

But to Grant and Wanerstrand, the benefits far outweigh the work.

“The neat thing about keeping goats in the city is you’re kind of going back to a time where farm animals were animals that we really cared for,” Grant said. “Modern farm animals are treated so horrible and never get names. It’s really nice to have a farm animal that you love and it does something, too. It produces something.”

Wanerstrand, who also owns a cat and so is at the three-animal limit, will have to sell her baby goats in a couple months once they’re weaned.

“That’s if I can part with them,” she said.