Meet Joe, Buttercup and Gary, San Francisco’s smallest goat-landscaping business

There are very few things these days that can’t be purchased on Craigslist.

For sale in the Bay Area right now: a gently used one-hour parking sign, the jaw bone of a juvenile bull shark, a 2009 Beneteau 49 sailboat for the low price of $209,000 “ON Y VA!” the listing declares). And, for one Bernal Heights resident, goats. 

For months, Joe Corcoran had been staring down the overgrown yard in the back of the building on Cortland Street that serves as his barber shop before inspiration struck.

“It randomly occurred to me one day that I should get goats,” Corcoran said.

He began searching Craigslist, casually. Three months ago, Craigslist delivered: An estate sale was happening in South San Jose, and goats, among other things, were on the market. Corcoran jumped in his Dodge Durango and, for just $450 in cash, he drove home with two goats the same day.

“They were pooping everywhere,” he said. 

Corcoran knew nothing about owning goats, but he had a previous foray into chicken-keeping, and he felt confident that he could google anything else he needed.

“They’re like gerbils,” Corcoran said, gesturing at the goats. “There’s not much to do except not overfeed them.” 

There are two of them: Buttercup, a small, warm-brown female goat with thick black stripes running down her face, and Gary, the larger of the pair, a neutered male with deep, ruddy brown hair.

Corcoran released them directly into his yard, which he called “a jungle.” Buttercup and Gary got right to work. In four days, the yard was cleared. 

A few weeks into owning the goats, Corcoran got a knock at the door. “I was so scared,” he said. “I thought it was a cop.”

It turned out to be an inspector with San Francisco Animal Care and Control, called in by a neighbor concerned about the new residents. 

Corcoran showed the inspector his flock, and she declared it legal. “‘This is a great space for goats,’ the lady said,” he said, recounting the conversation. Having goats in San Francisco is legal — barely. Under Section 27 of the San Francisco Health Code, families are allowed to keep “not more than two female goats” without a permit. 

On a recent afternoon, dressed in a patterned fleece and a dusty pair of sneakers, Corcoran passed through the back door of Cork’s barbershop and headed down the stairs to check on his goats. His two dogs, Bucky and Choco, followed him.

Bucky, a blue heeler herding dog, chased the goats in circles around their trough of water. Choco, a chihuahua, trailed behind.

“The goats will headbutt Choco,” Corcoran said. “He’ll run away, but he’ll come back.”

Buttercup and Gary had eyes only for Corcoran, following him around the yard. As he talked, Gary rubbed up against his leg and nibbled on his belt. Corcoran disciplined him with a gentle tap on the nose and smiled slightly. 

“I’ve always wanted a farm. I want horses. I ride horses during the week; I go volunteer for a lady in Montara,” he said. “I’m from New York, but I always wanted to be a cowboy.” 

Corcoran hails from as far away from cowboy country as one can get: Rochester, New York, where it rains or snows for a third of the year. In 2025, the city’s temperature fell below freezing for more than two months of the year. But Corcoran says he has always harbored the dream.

“My grandma would get us cowboy everything,” Corcoran remembered. “And a cowboy needs a farm.”

His journey has had detours: first a deployment with the U.S. Navy to Japan, then six months living on the road with his cousin in a camper van.

Three years ago, Corcoran moved to San Francisco to study history at City College of San Francisco, with the goal of one day going to law school. In 2024, he got the idea of opening a barber shop. That led to renting the space on Cortland, a storefront with an apartment above and a wild, out-of-control backyard.

Goats have a reputation for eating everything. They are uniquely partial to leaves and bark, making them excellent for clearing out wild or overgrown green spaces. After his own yard was clear, Corcoran started buying commercial grass pellets for his goats, but then thought: Why not open their services up to others?

He didn’t post on Craigslist, but did put up a sign in the window of the barbershop, “Goat Rental!!” it read. “$200 Landscaping. $150 Party Rental/Hangout.”

So far, Buttercup and Gary have had four gigs, Corcoran said — all yard work. He drives the goats to their job site and leaves them there until the greenery is gone. So far, it takes between three and six days.

“Whatever they don’t eat, I’ll just come in and clear myself,” he said.

Corcoran is far from the first entrepreneur to enter the goat rental market in San Francisco. A least three other companies in the area rent goats to clear land or to attend parties. During the pandemic, some rented out their goats as guests on video calls.

Most of these companies have whole herds of them, and contract with CalTrans and local parks to clear large areas of overgrown vegetation, especially on steep slopes that are difficult to get at otherwise. Corcoran’s herd is a whopping two goats large, and he advertises through two posters pasted in the front window of his barber shop.

“We’re kind of a family business, I guess,” he said. 

Local law makes it unlikely that Corcoran’s herd will expand, but he likes to imagine the possibilities.

“I want to get an intact one, so the girl [Buttercup] can start producing milk,” Corcoran said dreamily. He estimates he could keep “at least 12” goats on his property.

“It would be awesome if we could have a whole herd out here. The more the merrier,” he said. 

Corcoran still hopes to have his own agave farm in the San Joaquin valley one day. He’ll have cows, maybe horses and, of course, a few goats.