The Legend of the Goats

To learn the truth about our climbing goats, we sought the expertise of Uncle Buck, Rabun County’s resident goat whisperer. He spent many hours with our goats, first in group sessions and then one-on-one goat therapy, to understand why our goats are on the roof. Uncle Buck thought the aberrant behavior might stem from the “Santa Claus Reindeer Envy Complex.” But upon closer examination, Uncle Buck pronounced his final diagnosis.

Our Tiger Mountain goats are direct descendants of aliens. Although he is not fluent in all bleats, Uncle Buck discovered our Tiger Mountain goats cling to the shingles because they are watching the skies for one magical sign: a solar eclipse of the apricot moon when the constellation Aries turns gold. When that happens, the Mother Ship of the Goat Universe will swoop out of the Northern Sky and carry our goats home to Aries.

Until that magical sign appears, we suggest you humor our goats with kind words, Goat Chow, and perhaps a carrot at Christmas. We try not to provoke them.
Who knows what alien goats will do?

FYI: according to the Global Office of Astronomical Technology (G. O. A. T.), the anticipated eclipse won’t happen again until August 3014. Don’t tell the goats

The concept of having live goats on a roof dates back 40 years to the legendary Al Johnson's Swedish Restaurant in Door County, Wisconsin. The Johnson family began letting goats graze on the sodded roof of their Sister Bay, WI eatery to attract crowds and boy, has it worked well for them. Four decades later, the restaurant is still going strong, and the goats (and the Swedish pancakes) are as popular as ever.

Now, thanks to a licensing agreement with the restaurant, our Tiger Georgia attraction is able to share the same fun and unique features with visitors to the Great Northeast Georgia Mountains.