The one year "Search for the meaning of it all" is officially wrapping up. I could think of no better way to close it out than by making a trip to the Farm. Out of respect for my belief that Lori wants to see me during the weekend, I decided to volunteer on Friday and Saturday so that I could spend Sunday with her. I am all about compromise!
Since my last trips have involved feeding the new calf, now named Elliot, on account of arriving early, I decided that I needed to be there at six in the morning. This is a full hour earlier than normal, but it is worth it. Unfortunately, there was no one else there at that time of the morning, so I waited in my car for about ten long minutes until another car arrived. I recognized Leanne immediately, with her car full of dogs, but I wasn't sure if she recognized me. She looked at me with a blank stare. I knew it had been a couple weeks since I was here last, but I like to think I am more memorable than that. It turned out that the cause for the blank look was the fact that I was there on a Friday and not a Saturday. I guess it is like getting on a plane and seeing an anteater in the cockpit. You recognize immediately that it is an anteater, but the fact that it is out of place makes it hard to register. I can only imagine that I was the "anteater" in this case.
In the Main Office, I noticed that I wasn't on the schedule, so I think that it was just expected that I would be there on my normal days. No matter, because soon that was rectified. While the schedule got sorted out, I kept myself occupied by cutting up some fruit and vegetables for Gobbell. When Leanne emerged from the Treatment Room with a big bottle of calf formula, I knew it was time to get up close and personal with Elliot. He had grown quite a bit in the last two weeks, but his penchant for head butting hasn't changed. Scratch that, it had changed, but only in that he has gotten stronger and more aggressive. He finished his bottle quickly and proceeded to try to collapse the thick plastic by continuing to draw a vacuum. I wanted to spend some more time with him, so I sat down and let him go to town sucking on my fingers, wrist, and arm. He is nothing if not persistent. I wish I shared his optimism. As he suckled on any portions of exposed skin, he continued to do his head butting. As I deflected his blows using my arms to deflect his charging head, I pictured myself creating a new martial art with this philosophy as its central tenet. It made for some fun for both of us, and I was happy to find some basic postures that afforded a lot of protection as he slowly wore himself out.
When Mike K. arrived, it was time to climb out and get ready to head up to the Chicken Barn. Since we weren't totaling it, we made quick work of the inside and outside. While we cleaned, one of the roosters, Elton, kept watch and made frequent "Cock-a-doodle-doos" which sounded more like "Cock-a-doodle-arghs". His style reminded me of an aging 80's heavy metal singer (Yes, I'm talking about you Vince Neil and Don Dokken) who can't quite hit the high notes any more, but whose dogged determination strives to make up for it. The fact that he looks like he has a long mullet of blond hair/feathers only works to complete the visual. Whatever he was doing, it seemed to be working for him given his harem of young chicken groupies.
Mike and I continued on to the Turkey Ladies' Barn and had an enjoyable conversation. Mike is very reserved and under stated in most cases, but when we started talking about doing what you love, the talk flowed. I really like Mike. When I first met him, I really had a hard time getting a feel for him because he was pretty quiet. However, once he gets warmed up and talking, he is amazingly profound in his selection of words and his grasp of the world around us. He has the type of quiet air that belies a wealth of wisdom and I have enjoyed the opportunities that I have had to tap into it. When he talked about his two year stint in the Peace Corps, I was even more impressed. While I wouldn't go back and change my life at this point, there are times when I wish I had been involved in more constructive and character building activities like this when I was younger. Selflessness is the measure of the man and to adorn oneself in it is to shine like a beacon among those who care only for themselves.
When Mike and I were done, I proceeded to the other tasks on my list, such as raking the rabbit yard, cleaning the red van, and sorting the linen cabinet. I made a quiet note to myself that, if I were to look for more things to donate, linens need not be among them. While several of the "towels" were long in the tooth and well beyond retirement age, there was still an ample population of young and ambitious towels in the workforce.
With my first day on the Farm wrapping up, I headed to the hotel to get cleaned up before going for a bite at the Farwood Grill. I am always impressed by the kindness of strangers and this was on display at tonight. The waitress was extremely friendly in a motherly sort of way and it was a great way to end the day. Much as I use my dollars to vote for the Vegan menu at the Farwood by frequenting it during my visits, I chose to let them vote for me again in the form of a nice tip. While I realize that the waitress was effectively getting paid to be nice to me, she was going above and beyond and that deserves recognition.
I had made arrangements with Kerrie to start extra early the next morning so I put in my wake-up call for five-fifteen before calling it a night. Carolina double-checked to make sure I didn't mean an hour later and I reassured her that I really wanted to get up that early. After finding nothing in particular to watch, I set the volume low enough to serve as background noise and drifted off to sleep.
In the morning I was pretty much synchronized with Kerrie and Mike, who arrived just minutes after I did, and I eagerly volunteered to feed Elliot. He was on his best behavior, which is setting the bar kind of low, but it is always a pleasure to spend time with him and he let me hug on him for a bit. I continue to marvel at how anyone could look at Elliot and see anything other than a baby who needs to be cared for and nurtured. As I watched him prance around his pen, I said a quick prayer of thank you that a place like this exists for him.
The rest of the morning was a bit of a blur as I tried to set a pace that would allow plenty of animal time. It was mostly Barn cleaning, with a sprinkle of animal medical checks thrown in for flavor. I even got to help clean the People Barn which was a new one for my repertoire. Fortunately there weren't too many droppings to deal with there and it was mainly just sprucing up for the weekly tours. This involved a little mopping, but was mainly cobweb removal. I always feel bad about this since it is basically destroying their homes, but it was necessary; especially the black widow who had taken up residence in the rafters above the bathrooms. I hope she enjoyed her new home near the fence-line. Also on the eviction list were a number of tree-frogs. These were the last creatures I would have expected to see in the arid climate of Orland, but they were there in the bathrooms, the mop bucket, and anywhere else that provided shade and a hint of moisture. I am proud to say that we administered our relocations without any casualties.
I came to the last task on my list before noon and it was to clean the pig troughs. This was another new one for me and after pondering it, I decided that my best bet was to remove them from their mountings one by one and carry them over to the fence for scrubbing and hosing down. I hadn't counted on the cotter pins that hold them to their mounts being so stubborn. It seemed that either this task hadn't been done in a while, or the previous cleaners had used a different approach. I considered trying to clean them in place, but this presented a problem since they couldn't be drained to allow a proper rinsing. It turned out that I was able to get all but one of the troughs removed, and I improvised with the last one. Every time a trough was touched, I could see the pigs ears perk up in the barn where they were napping. A few decided that it would be a good idea to come check out what was going on, but they were disappointed that no food was involved. For a while I became the observer as I watched a couple of them examining the hose nozzle with their snouts. As they would push it into the ground, it would let loose with a brief burst of water. They seemed to enjoy this, but couldn't quite master it. I decided to give them a hand and rewarded them with quick shots of water to the mouth in a farm version of a seltzer bottle. I guess I could write this up and porcine dental hygiene, but they seemed to like it much more than I enjoy my trips to the dentist.
After double and triple checking that there was no more work that needed my attention, I chose to accept today as Karmic reimbursement for a recent visit which was cut short before I could spend time with my friends. With the noon sun roasting away overhead, I sought out Coco and Melvin for some quality time. They were standing close to each other in the pasture which made me regret that I didn't have my camera. I look forward to the day when you can just take pictures with your eyes because invariably the most memorable and sweet scenes catch me unprepared. Once Melvin saw me, he came ambling over to say hello. Coco looked up to see me, but continued to nibble at the hay that was in front of her. Not wanting to disturb her concentration, I decided to spend time with Melvin first and headed for the barn, knowing that he would follow me into the shade. He did without any hesitation and was soon chowing down on the apple slices that I had brought in my pocket for him and Coco. The felt of his lips would brush against my fingers as he gently picked each piece from my grasp. At one point he got a hold of my finger, but he was so soft that I hardly noticed before he recognized his mistake. Before long he laid down and I decided to join him. With my right arm over his side and my left arm rubbing his neck, we enjoyed a respite from the heat outside.
I wasn't exactly asleep and I wasn't exactly awake when I heard a voice nearby. It was Jess with the Farm Tour group and they needed to open the gate that Melvin and I were blocking. I felt a little embarrassed, but this was overcome by the enjoyment of the time that I had with Melvin. I led him outside and we watched as the tour group visited with the goats and the sheep. Many of them seemed to get a kick out of watching Melvin follow me around like a little puppy and I relished his attention. We visited with Edwin and Whitaker across the fence and Melvin seemed generally interested in these giant "goats". I watched him nose to nose with Whitaker across the fence and wondered if they commune like this when I am not there. It wouldn't be the first odd inter-species pairing I have seen in my time on the Farm. I imagined Whitaker as Melvin's bodyguard, mooing at the more dominant goats to take it easy on him unless they wanted trouble. It made for a cute image at least.
After finding Coco, and competing for her time against a sprig of green grass that had somehow managed to elude the sun and the other goats, I headed back toward the Main Office for what would be my last visit of the day, and my book. It was not a long walk, but it felt like one today. Earlier in my visit, I had been advised that one of the animals would have to be euthanized the coming week. This thought had weighed heavily on me throughout the trip, but as I made my way to what I knew would be my final goodbye, it was particularly heavy.
When I saw Norman in the Geriatric Cow Paddock, he was lying down as he had been for most of my visit. He was having difficulty moving, so I grabbed a bucket and filled it with water from the large trough further up the hill. He was uninterested in the water at first, but took a keen interest in the apples that I had brought with me. I had been sneaking him apple slices for the last two days and he had come to expect them from me. He gobbled them down one by one and passed the interval between treats by licking my knee. As I brushed the fur on his sides and back, I had to wonder if he knew what was coming. And if he could sense it, could he understand why? My hands moved to his cheek and my face pressed against his nose in an attempt to bridge the gap between our species and our ability to communicate. In the seconds that passed in this position, I prayed for him to know what I knew. I wanted him to know how much we all loved him and how much it pained everyone to make the decision to end his suffering. I told him that I was sorry that I could not be there to be with him when it happened on the following Tuesday, but that I knew he would be surrounded by the very caretakers who had celebrated his life in their actions every day. With a start, he began to stand up and briefly faltered as his legs took up the weight of his massive frame. As I moved back in to pet him, I saw the painfully bowed rear legs and the bandage on his hoof that had been carefully applied by Kerrie and Mike earlier this morning. Beyond that, I saw my first visit with Norman and the day I introduced Lori to him at the Thanksgiving for the Turkeys. I saw the memory of him in the herd along with Hank and Lester every time I pulled in to the Farm. I saw our visit at the Hoe Down when I had the chance to introduce him and his friends to many of the visitors, and their wonder at his docility and gentleness despite his stature. I have used the term "ambassador" a number of times while writing my story and I knew that I was in the presence of a great one.
Now that he was one his feet, he was keenly interested in the water I brought and I refilled the bucket twice over to sate his thirst. Afterwards, he lay back down and I pressed my face once again to his, nose to nose. Like any final moments, I knew that there would not be a perfect closure or ending and after ensuring that he was comfortable, I said goodbye to Norman for the last time and walked sadly to my car.
If fate does ever allow me to work for Farm Sanctuary, I have no doubt that these moments will be the most difficult part of the job for me. However, if this past year has taught me anything, it is that life is not about the beginning or the end, but about what happens in between. Norman's imminent passing was a time for sadness, but he had been given the best gift that any of us can ask for which is a life that included love and dignity. This gift came from visitors and volunteers like me, but it was given every day by the wonderful caretakers at Farm Sanctuary who embody compassion and humanity in all of their work. This is a sacred charge to uphold and it is a beacon that casts away the darkness of pain and shines as an example to the world and challenges that they take notice. I will miss Norman, but I will not miss the opportunity to make a difference in the present and future residents of Farm Sanctuary.
Goodbye sweet Norman.
