Doyle Yoder and his goats
Morning comes early for Doyle Yoder. He’s got a group of six special girls waiting for him, and being late just won’t do. The girls – named Dakotaare, Dusty, Gwendolyn, Shobra, Stormy and Oprah – eagerly anticipate his arrival in those wee hours, just as they do each afternoon.
These girls, however, aren’t people. They’re Doyle’s milk goats.“To me, there’s nothing more beautiful than to look out and see the goats on the hill eating and content,” says Doyle as he scans the field behind his barn, a playground filled with leaves, lush vegetation and arching hills for the goats to explore.
The goats aren’t his only agricultural endeavor. There are chickens out in the coop and a 5,000 square foot garden – bursting at the seams with home-grown beauty – to tend. Donkeys named Ginger and Cinnamon stand guard nearby, keeping coyotes and critters away. And in the far and few between minutes of downtime, Doyle can be found blowing away on one of his trusty harmonicas.
It would seem like Doyle fits in well around these parts. And he does. But Doyle isn’t from Southwest Missouri, or even from the Midwest for that matter. He’s from Delaware.
“I laugh and tell people I’m an Ozarker by choice,” says Doyle. “I don’t necessarily do things the way the Ozark people do, but I love the way they do it.”