How Best Friends Can Heal Your Wounds: Levi & Romy

Levi & Romy, friends for life, Farm Sanctuary, Watkins Glen, New York

Levi and Romy were two of the first Farm Sanctuary New York residents I had the pleasure of meeting. The pair were sharing a stall in the Melrose Small Animal Hospital which also serves as the nexus of shelter activity. They had just come in separately not long before (their individual rescue stories are below), and though Romy had taken no time at all to bond with humans due to his long convalescence, Levi was still terrified. Romy would come bounding toward me when I entered their area, but Levi hung back; Romy would head butt, hoof, climb, and in other ways let you know of his need and demand for attention, while Levi seemed content to let his friend deal with us bipeds.

Levi & Romy playing with the Postal Peeps in their stall in the Melrose Small Animal Hospital, Farm Sanctuary, Watkins Glen, New York

Romy & Levi, Farm Sanctuary, Watkins Glen, New York

A highlight of my Watkins Glen time was the first time Levi came up to me and started to hoof at my leg - a demand for attention that some of you might be accustomed to receiving from friendlier sheep and goats. Such a dramatic difference from when I first arrived and he would flee in terror. Whether it is a sign of his growing acceptance that the humans around him now are there to help him, or whether he just had a particular nasty itch he couldn't reach and I was a convenient scratcher, this gesture made me giddy. Perhaps it is a testament to the power of friends that Levi slowly started to not only allow people close, but eventually to demand attention himself. Maybe he saw the interaction that Romy had with us and this spurred his healing, and maybe Levi just needed more time to acclimate. 

Levi, Farm Sanctuary, Watkins Glen, New York

Levi is now a bona fide friend to the humans, perhaps inspired by his best friend Romy. Watching the transformation from scared new rescue to loving Farm Sanctuary resident brought me so much joy, and now Levi and Romy get to live out their lives at the newest Farm Sanctuary site: Jon & Tracey Stewarts' Bufflehead Farms in New Jersey. Click here for a ridiculous cuteness overload video of their arrival. When the newest location is open, Romy, Levi, and their new herd will greet humans with the love and joy they have received, and maybe even inspire healing through friendship for visitors.

Levi, Farm Sanctuary, Watkins Glen, New York

Yoga Animalia: Caprine - Levi

Farm Sanctuary, Watkins Glen, New York

Levi was found, scared and emaciated, in Brooklyn. It is suspected that he somehow escaped a live market, as his Kentucky tags marked “meat” indicate he was transported in to the city. How he escaped is unknown and miraculous, as this boy has issues with his back that cause problems with his movement and he may possibly be a fainting goat. However he escaped, Levi found his way into the safety of Farm Sanctuary where his terror has started to abate, and he will receive a loving community to help him come out of his shell.

Levi, Farm Sanctuary, Watkins Glen, New York

Romy, Farm Sanctuary, Watkins Glen, New York

Yoga Animalia: Ovine - Romy

Farm Sanctuary, Watkins Glen, New York

Romy arrived at Farm Sanctuary from a small permaculture farm that raises sheep for meat. He was left in the cold night after born, and, when found the next day, the effort and expense to heal the lamb outweighed his worth to them. Farm Sanctuary was able to get him the veterinary care he needed - several months worth of hospital trips and intensive antibiotic treatments. During that time Romy only had humans as companions, and to this day adores hanging out with people. This sickly lamb has become a loving and happy sheep, lavishing attention on his human and goat friends.

Romy, Farm Sanctuary, Watkins Glen, New York

The Remarkable Moxie of Old Lady Goats

Molly & Maria - two peas from very different pods, Farm Sanctuary's Animal Acres, Acton, California

moxie, noun

1. vigor; verve; pep.

2. courage and aggressiveness; nerve.

I created the above image pair the other day because I missed my Acton crew. I had found a batch of photos from my last few visits to my former home-away-from-home (Farm Sanctuary's Animal Acres) that I had set aside for later perusal and found the delightful image of Maria; I love how it mirrors the photo of my beloved departed Molly.

I worked with both old lady goats for five years - Maria is the kindly, grandmotherly type that will bake you cookies (not really, but she will gladly eat any vegan cookies you make!), and Molly fell more on the cranky spinster side. Maria helped Elle, both rescued from the same backyard butcher case, raise Cocoa and Nilla who were born to Elle at the sanctuary; we sometimes speculated that Maria could be their actual grand-doe. Molly on the other hand only put up with a baby Prince because she was so savvy she realized baby goat = treat payday. Maria is one of the greeter goats at Acton. Molly's greeting was a contemplative cud chewing with her back to you and her gaze yonder up the hill. Maria got pushed around by the other goats; Molly did the pushing.

Thinking about these old lady goats got me remembering some of the others I have met on this journey, and I am excited to introduce you to them. But first, a close-up of Maria's perfect, beautiful, old lady goat eye:

Maria - about those cookies..., Farm Sanctuary's Animal Acres, Acton, California

When I visited Animal Place I met Charlene and Laura - two old lady goats who have had the rare blessing of growing old together. This loving couple arrived from separate neglect and abuse cases in 2004 and bonded with each other at the sanctuary - twelve years of love! Watching them nuzzle, Charlene intently snuffling Laura's coat while Laura regally stood ruminating, it was clear how much these two ladies care for each other. All of the many times I visited Animal Place and I never once got a Charlene nor a Laura snuggle because these girls were too busy snuggling each other!

Charlene & Laura - excuse us human, we are busy, Animal Place, Grass Valley, California

I spent at least a third of my photographing time whilst at Green Acres Farm Sanctuary trooping around the goat pasture, ostensibly capturing portraits of the gaggle of goat friends, but really just following Fauna. In several ways she reminded me strongly of Molly, who had passed just two months prior, but Fauna is uniquely her own independent spirit. I hung out with her and crawled about, capturing her portrait (a challenge since she is a pygmy goat and not that high off the ground), and hoping for a modicum of attention from this wee old lady. I managed to snap a lot of photos of her eating, which she did intently, seemingly ignoring the movements of the rest of the goat herd, content to let me trail after her and make ridiculous gushy noises of endearment, while we forged our own path into the acres of green grasses. At some point her belly filled and Fauna then deigned to let me snuggle her and capture her radiance in proper portraits.

Fauna - ready for that close-up, Green Acres Farm Sanctuary, Silverton, Oregon

Fauna - the grass was greener until the goats got it, Green Acres Farm Sanctuary, Silverton, Oregon

Curly Sue wasted no time in making sure I knew she was the most important caprine to be photographed. I have quite a few close-up and much-too close-up photos of this gregarious old lady of Sanctuary One. Vying for greeter title with the brothers Freddy and Friday, Curly Sue has them beat however in my book due to the ineffable charm that comes to the refined and experienced goat gal. I also just learned that Curly Sue has since my visit been adopted into a loving home with a private individual who was owned by a lonely old goat girl, and so now Curly Sue has a sister-in-crime with which to live out her twilight years.

Curly Sue - coming in for the extreme close-up, Sanctuary One, Jacksonville, Oregon

Curly Sue - posing for her good side, Sanctuary One, Jacksonville, Oregon

These elder caprine beauties are powerhouses of personality, charm, and attitude, from the elegant to the intense to the aloof. Moxie - these old lady goats rock it.

Molly - the old lady goat that started it all for me, Farm Sanctuary's Animal Acres, Acton, California

Avery: Ridiculous Cuteness Overload in a Wee Goat Body

Avery, Farm Sanctuary, Watkins Glen, New York

Today's sanctuary resident feature is provided so that you can have a joyous Monday ooh and ahhh over the cutest goat on the planet. Probably arguable, but one must admit (or face censure from legions of adoring Farm Sanctuary supporters not to mention a giant raspberry from me) that Avery is nigh absurdly cute. Maybe even cuteness incarnate. Okay, so all baby goats are cuteness incarnate, so enjoy the cuteness happening here on the Yoga Animalia Project blog! And for more cute goat pics, go to the Caprine gallery here.

Avery, Farm Sanctuary, Watkins Glen, New York

Yoga Animalia: Caprine - Avery

Farm Sanctuary, Watkins Glen, New York

Avery was part of a loving family that attempted to provide for the baby goat, but they could not afford the veterinary bills at Cornell University when Avery became gravely ill. The medical condition that afflicted Avery would have killed him without treatment, but because of their strong relationship with Farm Sanctuary, Cornell vets reached out to the sanctuary who took him in. After his life-saving procedure, Avery arrived at the Watkins Glen location where he quickly showed himself to be a slightly oddball goat, doted upon by the humans around him.

One of the Postal Peeps and Avery goofing off, Farm Sanctuary, Watkins Glen, New York

Avery with his namesake, Farm Sanctuary, Watkins Glen, New York

Avery with intern Alex, Farm Sanctuary, Watkins Glen, New York

Sanctuary Spotlight: Something of a Homecoming - Farm Sanctuary, New York

Full Moon at Farm Sanctuary, Watkins Glen, New York

I arrived at the Watkins Glen, NY birthplace of the farmed animal sanctuary movement at night. I had trekked through trees protesting my RV's passage, dirt roads that simultaneously shrouded and announced my transit, and a rather terrifying stretch of single-lane country road where deer could spring into my path at any moment. When my nerves settled with the pings of Katie Kowhugger's engine, I squinted to see the property on which I found myself - and I was awestruck. I had parked in the Farm Sanctuary visitor area, and in the wan August moonlight I could only make out a few buildings and a few moving shapes I would later learn were Nikki pig and two of her children. My desert eyes were flabbergasted at the moonlit suggestion of green growing wantonly everywhere I gazed. Four years I had heard stories of this place, and I was a trifle overwhelmed that I was finally there and had made it on my own. It looked like paradise, and I could only see a fraction of it.

By morning light I beheld the meander of fences framing towering red barns; the green expanses revealed varieties of hue and shade – trees and grass-carpeted hillocks and tall meadow flowers. The Visitor Barn before me dwarfed my expectations. What I assumed correctly to be the B&B cabins daintily blinked up at the rising sun with their guests. Lowing from nearby told me that one herd of cattle was readying for the day. The moving shapes I saw the previous night resolved into individual pigs exploring their meadow. A faint bustle of activity on the hilltop distance, in front of the only building not rouged but standing like a solidification of soft yellow sunlight, turned out to be the Melrose Small Animal Hospital and the staff heading out for the day. Behind me the front of the sanctuary was embraced by forest with only small pockets of human activity. There was magic everywhere my gaze traveled.

Farm Sanctuary, Watkins Glen, New York

Luke, most perfect of all canines

Part of the magic for me of Farm Sanctuary are the humans with or for whom I used to work. That was highlighted when my former boss Susie Coston, National Shelter Director and the human with whom the care of all beings non-human resides, drove up with Education Director Samantha Pachirat and the two canine companions that own Susie, Orville and Luke, the later of whom I refer to as one of, admittedly many, canine boyfriends. Orville wasted no time in nearly flattening Susie in his rush to escape the car, take a snort of my familiar scent, and then bound up and into Katie Kowhugger to lay claim to this new territory. Luke was a skosh more of a gentleman and at least let me snuggle him. Seeing these friends on their home turf was delightful, since I had only previously had the pleasure of their company at one of the California locations.

Many of the caregivers that work at the New York location are also humans with whom I feel fortunate to have worked, whether remotely or when they would come to assist at the Acton location where I used to be. Seeing so many faces I know, plus meeting many about whom I had only heard stories, was a joyous celebration after my cross-country travel and challenges. Despite having been absent Farm Sanctuary life for more than a year, I was welcomed in to the New York location as family, something I did not know that my heart had been longing for until it happened.

Ashley, Farm Sanctuary, Watkins Glen, New York

In the quest of the Yoga Animalia Project I did not anticipate just how the lack of a stable base would affect me, the stress and anxiety it would cause; settling in for what I intended to be not more than a week but which became three weeks in Watkins Glen, I was able to discover a seed of home across the continent. Being able to pitch in and help with health checks, cleaning, or photos was a balm to my frayed nerves. The camaraderie and support from people for whom I hold so much respect and love was a gift.

But it was not only the humans that offered this support: the residents worked their magic upon me, creating new friendships and bonds I look forward to sharing in the coming month. Adding to this was the very place – all that green in the late summer sun radiated into my very being, allowing me to look out at the hills where the sheep grazed, the wallows the pigs created to cool off, the patches of curious ground the chickens inspected, the little trails the goats forged through tall and dense grass, and see it with eyes heavy with appreciation and gratitude. It was here at Farm Sanctuary in Watkins Glen, New York, the first sanctuary stop on my easterly travel, that the challenges of the journey paled in comparison to what I beheld: a vision of a more compassionate world.

Chuck, Farm Sanctuary, Watkins Glen, New York