In Jagatpur village, around 30 kilometres from Dehradun, my father Jagdamba Dhuliya starts his day by measuring out ground maize, black gram, mineral, and salt. His goats follow him to their crates and get busy with their breakfast. As the new mothers in his flock feed, he brings their kids to them, who suckle with their tiny tails wagging. “It’s a sign of a good latch and strong flow,” he says.

He started the goat farm 15 years ago after leaving his job in pharmaceuticals, relying on independent research to run it. For 12 years, the farm sold goats for Eid or ritual sacrifice in temples. After years of perfecting their feeding practices, pre- and post-natal care, and a strict vaccination regimen, his focus has shifted to selling to other farmers who seek his goats as breeders, fetching him more income.

Every goat bears an eccentric name—Chamki, Gujri, Suzy, Bhola, Tofu, Dollar, Hrithik, and Roshan to list a few. Jagdamba names some of them intuitively, and others based on the circumstances of their birth. Tofu, for instance, short for Toofan, was born during a storm.

While grazing the goats in the nearby Sal forests, Jagdamba and his wife Sunita flank the ends of the herd into the thickets. But the goats are quick to take over, moving eagerly and eating freely. “[The forests] provide diversity in the plants they get to eat, and daily exercise maintains their muscles. The forest lets them be free,” he tells me.

But the forest poses risks too. Frequent leopard attacks are often fatal for the weak, infirm, or pregnant goats. “We feel sad when they’re taken; we’ve raised them from birth. If they have kids, you’re constantly reminded of the loss. Leopards are sneaky, but they also have to eat.”

We walk on the precarious and steep terrain, following the animals rushing to fill up on soft buds and berries. While dead leaves crunch under my feet, making me unsteady, and thorny branches tug on my clothes, Jagdamba and Sunita are as surefooted as their animals. This is not my first time in the forest with them, yet I struggle. Mostly, I catch glimpses of their backs as they follow their goats, and I, them.