Sanctuary Tails

Getting to Know Them

By Tara

Tara Oresick, formerly the manager of our New York Shelter, recently became the director of our Northern California Shelter. 

During my time as an intern, caregiver and shelter manager at the New York Shelter, I had the good fortune to work with our national shelter director, Susie Coston. What can I say about Susie? She has a gift. She’s incredibly knowledgeable about the needs and healthcare of the animals, not to mention the dizzying task of keeping a large shelter running smoothly every day, but it’s more than that. Susie and farm animals get each other. The animals trust her. And her observational skills are out of this world. She can walk into a barn and actually smell pneumonia, a foot infection, you name it. Working with her is not only a non-stop learning experience but also a blast. She is one of my favorite people in the world, and if I can be half as good a shelter director as she is, I will feel very accomplished.

As daunting as directing a shelter can be, its mandates stem from the same, simple goal I have always had as a caregiver: try to look at every animal as an individual. This philosophy, which feels so natural to us at Farm Sanctuary, is in fact counter to that of most of the veterinary establishment, whose approach to farm animal treatment often emphasizes the financial value of the animals – what humans can get out of them. Farm Sanctuary is an unusual farm animal veterinary client in that we want to do what our animals need, not what is easiest or cheapest. We bring comfort and quality of life into the discussion. We work to heal animals who would have died or languished untreated in the industry due to the expense or inconvenience of their treatments. Because we are so often operating outside the precedent, we have to rely not only on veterinary wisdom but also, strongly, on our own familiarity with our animals. We work hard to be able to recognize what is normal or abnormal for them, what makes them happy, who they are. When you have been told “what is wrong” with an animal or “what is fixable,” you look at that animal, and you give them whatever you can.

Just like with people, I think it’s best to take the animals as they are. Some will love you, and some won’t, and I do my best to be okay with that. I find that, with patience, I can build trust with most of them. There is nothing more rewarding than seeing an animal who was once fearful learn to feel comfortable. Not every shelter animal develops affection for humans, but if every one of them feels free and safe to be himself or herself, then we are doing our job.

One of the best parts of this job is just sitting and watching the animals, getting to know them – learning who likes belly rubs, who adores chest scratches, who hopes you brought a treat (okay, that’s just about everyone), and who would prefer that you just sit quietly and let them sniff you. Every animal is different. I’m so enjoying making the acquaintance of the ones who call this shelter home, and I look forward to sharing their stories with you!

Introducing Farm Sanctuary’s Animal Acres

By Susie

Last year, we expanded our rescue and refuge network with the addition of a shelter in Acton, CA, just outside of Los Angeles. Now named Farm Sanctuary’s Animal Acres, this facility is currently home to 69 chickens, seven ducks, 19 pigs, two geese, 13 goats, 16 cattle, nine sheep, 23 turkeys, and three horses. Our dedicated caregivers give their very best to these animals every day. We also have amazing volunteers who work at the shelter every week. I love getting to know all the people and animals that make Farm Sanctuary’s Animal Acres a special place. I am happy to share some stories of a few of the special residents here.

Here are some of the new members of the Farm Sanctuary family:

Sabrina, along with her seven newborn piglets, was rescued from a backyard butcher operation, where she and many other animals languished in neglect, forced to hear the screams of their dying companions. Despite her own suffering and peril, Sabrina’s only concern was for her piglets. Although her babies are now grown and live safely with her at Farm Sanctuary’s Animal Acres, she remains ardently protective of them.

Dandypants was brought to Farm Sanctuary’s Animal Acres after he was found running loose in Los Angeles County —  it’s likely that he escaped from a local “live market.” Such businesses, where live animals are selected by customers to be butchered on-site, perpetuate a host of animal cruelties, from miserable living conditions to brutal slaughter procedures. Now safe from such perils, Dandypants struts proudly about the sanctuary grounds, enjoying the company of the other rescued chickens, turkeys, ducks, and geese who call Farm Sanctuary’s Animal Acres home.

When Bruno tumbled from a moving transport truck onto a busy highway near Palmdale, CA, he miraculously survived the fall and the traffic. He was picked up by local animal control, whose protocol is to give up abandoned cattle for auction, but through coordination between the agency and Farm Sanctuary’s Animal acres, the calf avoided that peril as well. Safe forever from slaughter (and highway traffic), Bruno now spends his days roaming the rolling hill pastures with his fellow steers and receiving chin scratches from visitors.

Remembering Hildy

By Susie

Prevalent in our society are some deep misconceptions about turkeys: that they lack intelligence, that they don’t have personalities, that there can be no kinship between humans and these animals who appear so very different from us. For eight years, Hildy walked up to people bearing such assumptions and completely disarmed them. No one who met this bright, charismatic bird could doubt that turkeys are individuals with minds, feelings, and unique characters – individuals with whom we can have connections, individuals with whom we can share friendship.




Hildy’s life began in a world that denies that fact. Born in an industrial hatchery, she lost the tip of her beak and the ends of her toes to an amputation procedure used by producers to mitigate fighting injuries in the crowded, stressful environment of the factory farm. An infection contracted at such a facility before her rescue left Hildy permanently blind in one eye.

But neither that disability nor the burden of selective breeding, which predisposes industrial turkeys to excessive weight gain, slowed her down. With the special diet and care provided at our shelter, she flourished through the years and remained hale and hearty even as one of our oldest turkeys. She lived a wonderfully full, long life, but eventually succumbed to heart failure, an ailment common among elderly turkeys.

Hildy loved life. No vestige of her past could stop her from enjoying every day. She was filled with curiosity and, on occasion, mischief (she liked to sneak up on piglets when we took them to play in the turkey pasture). She loved the outdoors. She loved the cool air in autumn. She loved treats like yams and squash.

And Hildy loved people. Partial to having her feathers stroked, she would sit with visitors for hours soaking up attention, which her delighted admirers were only too happy to give. Hildy was one of the most gregarious turkeys we’ve ever met. She charmed her flock mates, too, and was a friend to everyone in the turkey barn.




Her best friends were fellow turkeys Kima, Rhonda, and Feather. They all adored spending time together and, when they weren’t at each other’s sides, would call out to one another to stay in touch. The companions loved to wander beneath the willow tree in the yard by their barn.

It will be strange not to see her beneath that tree. Hildy’s passing is a great loss for all her friends, turkey and human alike. But she has left us a consolation, and that’s the memory of how she lived among us: with great joy.







Top photo by Derek Goodwin

Sanctuary Animals at Play

By Susie

Scribbles, William, and Harry have been charming visitors with their playful and sweet personalities. Check out the videos below to get a short peek at what their days are like living at sanctuary. Thank you for helping to make their rescue and lifelong care possible!

Scribbles lives at our Northern California Shelter. You can read his full rescue story here.



William and Harry live at Farm Sanctuary’s Animal Acres. Read about how they were rescued.

Rescued Calves Recovering Nicely - An Update on Tinsel and Holly

By Susie

It was a cold winter’s day in late December when we rescued Holly and Tinsel from a stockyard auction. Because they were too sick to stand, they were left for dead on the auction house floor, yet they still had a will to live. Luckily, Farm Sanctuary’s Emergency Rescue Team was there to step in to provide them with urgent care, although we knew their recovery could be a difficult one. Despite the bustle of the holidays, our members responded when we reached out for help. Your generosity made this lifesaving rescue and rehabilitation possible.

Because Holly was too weak to stand, her brown fur became matted with feces as she was trampled by frightened calves in the crowded pen. Astoundingly, it quickly became clear that Holly’s most urgent ailment was severe dehydration, demonstrating how even her most basic needs were ignored before her rescue.

Tinsel was much sicker and needed emergency IV fluids. Since both calves torn from their mothers far too soon, they were deprived of the vital nutrients to develop a healthy immune system and required blood transfusions at Cornell University’s Animal Hospital. Both were also treated for severe pneumonia and a variety of other ailments that are unfortunately too common for the neglected calves of the dairy industry.

Today, both of these calves are growing stronger.

We are delighted to see them explore and enjoy life now. As a result of all they endured and the time they spent together regaining their health, they have become best friends. Tinsel adores Holly and looks to her for comfort and guidance in new situations. Holly is more outgoing. While she loves spending time with Tinsel and her other animal friends, she also greets her human visitors with curiosity and affection.

At Farm Sanctuary, Tinsel and Holly are ambassadors for all calves born into the dairy industry. Every visitor to our New York sanctuary who meets them and every person who reads their story can understand why we rescued them and why they matter. Every time a gallon of cow’s milk is purchased, it is because a baby like Tinsel or Holly had been taken from his or her mother.

Because of the support from our members, Tinsel and Holly were rescued from a slow, agonizing death and now they are free to dash across snowy pastures, their eyes gleaming. Their recovery shows us that the same care and consideration we give to cats and dogs can save farm animals too.

Thank you for saving these calves, giving them sanctuary and sharing their story. With your support, we are working toward a more compassionate world for all farm animals.

Remembering Kevin

By Susie

He had a moo like a foghorn. It would sound again and again as he climbed the hill to fresh pasture, summoning his herd. You could hear it everywhere on the shelter in Watkins Glen.

When Kevin arrived here in 1993, little about him suggested he would grow to be so formidable. The vets doubted he would even live. Kevin was born on a small, local farm. When still young, he fell desperately ill. He had pneumonia. He wasn’t taking his bottle and was starving to death. Unable to stand, he had developed huge, painful abscesses on his chest where it pressed against the ground. The farmer sought veterinary attention for him at first but then decided it wasn’t worth the expense. The vet, however, was not ready to give up, and she happened to have another client she knew would want to help: Farm Sanctuary. The farmer was convinced to relinquish the ailing calf to our custody, and the fight for Kevin’s life began in earnest.

It was well over a month before Kevin could stand. Caregivers watched over him perpetually, flushing the wounds on his chest and staying with him through the night to change his IV. Somehow, the feeble calf pulled through and got back on his feet. He grew stronger. He grew bigger. He grew louder. Eventually, he became the leader of the cattle herd, commanding the respect even of several prominent, and giant, steers who had preceded him into its ranks.

Of course, Kevin was no lightweight. At his largest, he weighed between 2,500 and 3,000 pounds. He dwarfed shelter staff and visitors. Yet he treated everyone with the greatest gentleness. He was patient with his caregivers and amazing with guests. Children adored him. And any time you called his name, he mooed back to you. He was also a kind leader to his fellow cattle. In his old age, he even sweetly indulged the antics of upstarts like the young steers Alexander, Laurence and Blitzen, rescued as feeble calves last winter. When cocky, 200-pound Blitzen tried to take on their monumental elder, Kevin took it in serene stride.

Photo of Kevin by Blanche Johnson Baransky

He was no pushover, however, in matters of friendship. For 17 years he was inseparable from his best friend, Larry, another steer of impressive size and graciousness. A few years ago when Larry’s legs began to give him trouble, we moved him to our special needs herd, whose pasture is less hilly. Since Kevin, though suffering from mild arthritis was still quite spry (a fact apparent whenever he noticed anyone approaching with a bucket of apples or a bowl of grain) we decided to keep him with the main herd. Kevin disagreed with our decision. He spent hours every day at the divide between the two pastures mooing and licking Larry over the fence until we got the message and reunited them. This year, when Larry’s arthritis finally became too painful and debilitating to be eased by treatment, Kevin stood steadfast by his dear friend as he passed.

Both had been by the side of their herd mate Cincinnati Freedom when she faced the end of her life several years before. Suffering from terminal cancer and beyond treatment, Cinci lay surrounded by her fellow cattle as we awaited the vet. Kevin stepped forward and began licking Cinci’s face, calming her in her last moments. When the vet arrived, Kevin and Larry even caused some minor damage to her car as they shouldered their way around it to stand protectively over their friend. Kevin himself did not linger for goodbyes. This year he turned 18, the longest lived of any of our male Holsteins, and he remained hale, hearty and outspoken as summer gave way to fall. Though we worried this winter might be a little hard for Kevin, as winter is for many elderly animals, we were prepared to help him through the harsh months ahead. We didn’t get that chance. It was on a beautifully mild and sunny autumn day, early this week, when we went out to pay Kevin his morning visit and found that he had died, most likely of heart failure. Kevin lay peacefully in the pasture with his friend Kirsty by his side. It appeared he had simply fallen asleep, as on any other night, and then was gone. Quietly and gently.

The grief of his loss was immediate here at the Farm Sanctuary, and I know it will reach far beyond. Kevin touched everyone he met: cattle, humans – everyone. He was an amazing leader, teacher, and friend. No more will that magnificent foghorn of a moo reverberate over these barns and pastures. But in all of our hearts it will continue to echo.

Update on Sonny and Fanny with a special video trailer

By Susie

A heartfelt thank you goes out to the 256 members who joined Farm Sanctuary’s Monthly Pledge Program in response to our recent rescues — more than 100 over our original goal! Your generosity and dedication to rescued farm animals have allowed us to provide Fanny and Sonny with the care they need to enjoy the rest of their days at Farm Sanctuary. Both of our bovine friends are on the mend and adjusting to their new lives with new friends.

After being forced to over-produce milk for years in the dairy industry, spending most of her time standing on concrete floors covered in manure, Fanny is enjoying the simple luxuries of thick bedding and grassy pastures. Though Fanny will always have arthritis, a ghost of her previous life, she is eager to start fresh with her new herd. Fanny was separated from the other cattle while caregivers assessed and treated her but would call out hourly to her future herd mates over the fence. Last week Fanny’s desire for companionship was fulfilled when she joined our “special needs” herd, and she could not have been more excited, jumping and running through her new pasture.

Our beautiful little Sonny still struggles with a weak immune system caused by the severe neglect he suffered before his rescue, but after emergency surgery and weeks of TLC, he is adjusting well to his new home. It’s impossible not to fall in love with Sonny’s sweet personality; he just loves neck rubs and will lean in and make sure you are getting just the right spot while peeking up at you through his long lashes. Sonny is also beginning to explore the new world that is his pasture, eating grass and, running and kicking up his heels with joy. It warms our hearts to watch Sonny improve and grow.

Stories like Fanny’s and Sonny’s give faces to the billions of animals suffering in the food industry annually. That’s why we are so excited to introduce you to a new trailer for an upcoming feature film called The Ghosts In Our Machine. It features the rescue story of Fanny and Sonny and will continue to document their progress over the next year, getting to know them as individuals. We are thrilled to be a part of this great work.

Check out the preview featuring Sonny and Fanny below!

Queenie

By Susie

Inside, the scene was truly nightmarish: Shoppers at the “live market” selected the individual animals who they wanted butchered. In such markets, animals may be slaughtered in full view of one another, with little concern for humane treatment or sanitary practice. The combination of animals confined to filthy, crowded cages and the unsanitary slaughter floor conditions created a breeding ground of disease and bacteria at Astoria. Live chickens were kept without food and water and were made to sit in excrement-covered cages among the bodies of their dead friends, who had succumbed to a strain of avian flu the type lethal to birds-not humans.

Many animals knew their last, torturous moments in this hellish place. But one fortuitous day in August, a cow we later came to know as Queenie would not go the way of countless others before her. Driven by the fear of the canes, sticks and electric prods, which are commonplace in live markets and stockyards, Queenie made the choice any animal would if given the chance. Strong, powerful, and rightly distrusting of humans, she shook her oppressor’s grasp and ran for her life.

Alone in a world completely alien to her, amid strange sights and blaring sounds, she sprinted for blocks, attracting the attention of surprised and jeering onlookers as she dodged traffic, pedestrians and eventually police cars on the busy New York streets. Her flight to freedom was finally brought to a halt when police shot her with a tranquilizer gun.

Queenie’s getaway, though cut short, did not go unnoticed; her story attracted national media attention and won her the support of thousands who were inspired by her resilience and bravery. Calls from individuals concerned with Queenie’s fate flooded both the Center for Animal Care and Control and Astoria Live Poultry.

When we were alerted to her plight by Farm Sanctuary members, we immediately contacted the animal control agency and offered to provide Queenie a safe, permanent home at our New York shelter. We anxiously waited for hours before the slaughterhouse owner finally decided to relinquish custody of Queenie to the city.

Queenie arrived at the shelter to a hero’s welcome: As she jumped from the trailer, she was met with cheers from the sanctuary staff and loud “moos” from the cows in her new herd. And Queenie certainly was a hero: Her escape resulted in fines for Astoria Live Poultry and fueled the public outcry that ultimately led to an investigation and the subsequent closing of the market. Queenie’s act of rebellion won not only her own freedom but also that of 150 neglected chickens, who were surrendered to Farm Sanctuary after the market closed its doors.

On Thursday, August 18, it was the 11th anniversary of Queenie’s arrival at our New York Shelter. After all these years, she is still a plucky lady. Her wariness towards humans is what saved her life, and she hasn’t forgotten the cruelties that befell her and the other live market animals at the hands of humans. For this reason, she doesn’t take kindly to everyone she meets. Since Queenie and I came to Farm Sanctuary at the same time, however, I think we have a bond, a kind of mutual respect for one another. I can bring any visitor into the main herd, and she will accept them.

Queenie is highly alert and very aware of her surroundings; she is certainly one of the most intelligent cows I’ve met. She displays her incredible problem-solving ability by figuring out ways to avoid hoof trimming (she actually manages to squeeze out of the trimmer’s chute) and fly spraying -- which, though both procedures are necessary for her health and comfort, are two of her least favorite things. However, she loves her herd, her best friends (fellow escapees Maxine and Annie Dodge), and her permanent home, a place she will never want to run away from.

It is amazing that, knowing only fear, pain, and cruelty, Queenie still had the drive to run free. But when I look back at her story, I am reminded of the sad truth that the only difference between Queenie and the animals who were killed that day at the market, and every day in slaughterhouses around the world, was attitude and luck. She had no more a will to live than any animal, human or nonhuman. When we read about the individual who manages to escape a nightmarish fate, we must remember that the animal whose survival we are rooting for is no different in her desire to live from the millions behind the slaughterhouse walls. As we see every day here at the sanctuary, each and every animal is an individual with a unique personality and a deep emotional life. Queenie is a face for the billions of faceless animals who won’t get a lucky break but are no less unique, special, and deserving of love.



Photos by Derek Goodwin and Blanche J. Baransky

Trial by Fire

By Susie

A year ago, on a stretch of interstate in Indiana, a transport truck carrying 34 cattle crashed into another vehicle and burst into flames. Eighteen cattle perished in the wrecked trailer. Others found a way out only to collapse on the road and lie slowly dying from their wounds. A second truck soon arrived to take the survivors to their original destination – the slaughterhouse. All still on their feet were rounded up – all except one. A 2-year-old Holstein bull horribly burned but determined to live, took off running. He led authorities on a 12-hour chase before he was finally captured and taken to a local animal shelter. With area residents campaigning for his life to be spared, custody of the bull was relinquished to Farm Sanctuary, and our Emergency Rescue Team rushed him from Indiana to the Cornell University Hospital for Animals.

There he stayed for over a month. The bull, who we named Jay, was covered in burns from head to hoof, some down to the muscle. Having demonstrated tremendous will through his escape, Jay proved his mettle again during his long hospitalization, remaining in high spirits despite his painful injuries.

The affable personality of our new friend, now a steer, burgeoned further at the sanctuary, where we continued his treatment. Though he had to stay in a private stall to heal during his first months, he made many friends over the wall, exchanging sniffs and kisses. When he was well enough, we were able to give him some outdoor time but, because his skin was still so fragile, had to coat him with plenty of sunscreen. We let him out into the small pasture beside his stall, where he would run along the fence he shared with the other cattle, mooing to them and bucking playfully when he saw the whole herd.

Male cattle intended for beef are typically castrated (making them steers) at a young age. Since Jay and the others in the truck with him were still un-castrated males (or bulls) at around two years old, we suspect that they had been raised and kept as donors for artificial insemination, the predominant method of impregnation on dairies – and yet another manifestation of the industry’s reductive insistence on efficiency, which demands that participants isolate useful parts and products of an animal rather than deal with the whole creature and his natural behaviors. Likely raised in an artificial insemination facility, Jay was probably never allowed out on pasture before coming to us. He was clearly delighted to be outdoors.

Finally, after three months, Jay was well enough to join the herd. He immediately began rough-housing with the other steers, a way that cattle establish rank. His confrontations were mostly playful, and it appeared that he wasn’t interested in being high in the pecking order. He really just wanted to be part of the group. That group included another young Holstein named Lilli, who immediately caught Jay’s eye. He fell madly in love with her, and the two remain best friends.

During the winter, we keep the cattle off the high pasture, which can become precariously icy. In the spring, they are allowed to return. As Jay walked up the hill among his herd mates for the first time, he mooed with excitement, adding his voice to the chorus of our most outspoken cattle, Hazel, Travolta, Moo, and Ashley. Arrived in the wide, lush pasture, he began to buck and frolic with all his new friends. He was in heaven.

This week we celebrate the one-year anniversary of Jay’s arrival. He is an amazing animal. He persevered through terror and pain most of us can’t even imagine, and though he still has scars from his ordeal and requires daily sunscreen treatments to keep his skin from burning in the areas where hair will never grow back, he has came out the other side happy and generally healthy. I am awed not only by his escape from the devastation of the accident and his physical recovery from its profound wounds but also by his emotional resilience. Like many of his fellow rescued farm animals, Jay has overcome a traumatic past to live a rich life and to enrich the lives of those around him. He has come to be defined not by his vulnerability to pain but by his capacity for joy.

 

Pig Pals Get New Home

By Susie

If you ask the folks working at Farm Sanctuary’s New York Shelter who some of their favorite animals are, there’s a good chance you’ll hear the names Riley and Petunia. These two cheerful pigs spent several months sharing a cozy stall here, becoming the very best of friends. Whenever their gate opened, they would rush over to greet their visitors, sniffing them curiously and vying for affection. Much of their time was devoted to rooting through the ground in search of treats (even a rock was an exciting find) or lazing in piles of straw. Whatever they were doing, they were most happy simply being together. And thanks to one of our interns, who has offered them a home for the rest of their lives, that’s how they’re going to stay.

Because Riley would never be fit to enter our main pig herd, we were concerned about finding an appropriate living arrangement for him. The neglect Riley suffered prior to his rescue left him with blindness in his right eye and a permanent head tilt. Pigs live in complex social hierarchies, and having ailments like these would make it tough for Riley to find a spot in a herd of much larger pigs. For a while, he lived with two other young pigs, Bob Harper and Kim Gordon, but when the time came for them to join the adults, Riley couldn’t follow. Fortunately, Petunia, whom we rescued in February, had recovered from surgery for an intestinal hernia and was ready to start making friends. Petunia was just four pounds when she came to us, small enough to fit in one hand. Though she’s grown tremendously, she’s still only about half the size of Riley, and just a tiny fraction the size of some of the other pigs. Not only is she too small for the main herd right now, but she also might need more surgery for her hernia. Surgery on small pigs is always a tough choice to make – it’s dangerous, because they grow so fast (up to a pound a day!) that they could rip their sutures. Hopefully the hernia will correct itself as she grows, but if she did need surgery, it might keep her from being able to stay with the main herd. As long as she’s sharing a place with just her best bud Riley, however, she’ll never have to worry about a thing.

On July 9, Farm Sanctuary staff chauffeured Petunia and Riley to the West Virginia home of their adopter. Seemingly unruffled by their long journey and arrival in strange, new surroundings, the two immediately made themselves at home and greeted their new family warmly. During her internship with us, Riley and Petunia’s adopter developed a strong relationship with them, and under her care, they’ll never have to spend a day apart from one another. Here at the New York Shelter, we came to love these happy little pigs. We miss them terribly, but we’re elated that they’ll never again have to face the horrors of abuse and neglect into which they were born. For the rest of their days, they’ll be playing together, rooting through the rich West Virginia soil, basking in the sun, and simply enjoying the good life.