During my first volunteer visit, I had heard that had been a history of monthly "Work Party Days" where multiple volunteers would engage in some big projects at the farm. There hadn't been one for the last few months, so this was my first opportunity to participate. I looked forward to it because it seemed like a good opportunity to mingle with some like minded folks, and do some good deeds for the day. And if I got the chance to hang out with my buddies, that would be pretty okay too.
I had neglected to buy any new books on CD, so I was relegated to listening to the radio as my sole distraction during the drive up. Now, I don't want to give the impression that I am not a focused and good driver, because I am, but my recent trips up I5 have involved a deep sense of dread. The way I see it, it is only a matter of time before I start seeing trucks on the road carrying animals to slaughter. I pass fields of cows each time I head north and I know that they are not the pets of some benevolent farmer, or enjoying a bovine retirement in the green hills. I can imagine no more helpless feeling than to see a truckload of animals en route to an untimely death. I remember when I was younger, seeing pigs in trucks in southern California. Actually, if I am honest, at the time I think I remember the smell more than the sight, but that is not important. What is important is that back then I had not made the connection between the image and what it meant. I lacked the insight to see into these animals' future and for all intents and purpose, probably thought nothing of it. At this point in my life, however, it is very different. I know that I would want to do something. Maybe I would try to force the driver to pull over and try to convince him of the error of his ways. Or perhaps I would barter to save some of them and endeavor to give them a life at Farm Sanctuary. Maybe one would be a veal calf who could befriend Whitaker. Most likely neither of those would happen and I will end up with a gnarled pit of despair in my stomach borne of the realization that I cannot do anything legally to help them. And even if I did, there would be more trucks and more victims, much too many for my pitiful resources. I will undoubtedly feel like a loser who has failed to act to make a difference. I am afraid that in that moment when I see that truck, I will sink in a glassy walled pit of despair in which I will feel that all I am doing is for naught, but I won't have the answer in terms of what more I can do. There is just more suffering than my heart can bear and it haunts me on this drive to Orland. Fortunately, I do not see any trucks today, but I know it is only a matter of time before I do.
On the flip-side, I do try to reflect on the positive impacts that I can and have had. For example, there are the people at work who are aware of my lifestyle and stop by to ask for advice, which I share freely. Admittedly, I have a problem recommending humane choices for eggs (Since I don't believe there are any), but once I have expounded on this, if they are not convinced, I choose to provide better options for them. I rationalize an "FSQ", or "Food Suffering Quotient", and I choose to help people to reduce their "FSQ", even if I have to compromise. I have mixed feelings about this since it feels like settling, but I am a realist and I hold out hope that this will be their first steps on a new path. If I were to choose to be the intimidating, fear-mongering Vegan, I may scare them out of taking this meager step. I spend a lot of my time in this ambassador role. My other major successes have been with Lori and my parents. As I mentioned several chapters back (I can't remember which one and I am too lazy to go back and look for it), I went through a very awkward period in my emotional relationship with them when they began to represent the embodiment of animal suffering in my eyes. Their claims that they could not follow me down this path threatened to cause a rift as our paths diverged. While it was hard at the time, it was wise, in retrospect, to continue to remain engaged and share my thoughts and experiences since they have made a difference. For the last month, my parents have been effectively vegetarians. I don't know if they feel as strongly about this as I do, but I do believe that they are doing this out of sincere distaste for the suffering rather than out of empathy for me. That belief makes me happy because I feel as if I have fostered change rather than strong-armed it. As with the folks at my work, I will continue to provide support, stories, recommendations and encouragement to continue along the path to a lower "FSQ".
In keeping with tradition, I arrived early. This gave me the opportunity to meet Melvin. I had read about him the day before in one of the e-mailings that I had received. I wish that I could say that Melvin was surrendered by a loving owner who couldn't afford to keep him in goat luxury anymore, but I can't. Melvin was another victim of man's indifference to those around him. When you read of the cruelty that people show to each other, I guess it is not too shocking that cases like this occur, but it is unfortunate that the perpetrator often receives little more than a slap on the wrist; assuming that there is any punishment at all. Melvin was a real charmer and he was quick to say, "Hi", and give kisses. As with all of the goats, ne all of the animals at the Farm Sanctuary, he is adorable. I think he has a good chance of fitting in perfectly with the herd and with his new ambassador role.
I asked Leanne if there was anything that I could do to help while I waited for the rest of the group to arrive. She said that Indran was in the Rescue Barn and that I could probably go help him, so I headed over there. On the way I passed Sophia and Lee, one of the new interns. Before reporting to the Rescue Barn, I helped set up chairs in the People Barn so that they could hold volunteer orientation inside. While I was in my typical shorts and T-shirt, it was still a little chilly outside for normal people. Once that was in order, I explained to Sophia that I would be working with Indran since I had been through orientation during my first Farm tour and I had already signed my releases for volunteering.
Indran was pretty much done with raking the floor and just needed to lay down new straw, so I got to work helping him. I hadn't seen Kerrie for a long time since I am normally there on days that she is off and it took me a while to remember her name, or at least to feel confident that I remembered it. There is always that awkward period when you see someone you know, but you can't remember their name, and you don't know if they remember yours or not. She was pretty busy so other than exchanging greetings there wasn't much time to say anything else. Names have never been my forte, but I do think that going to the farm is helping me with it. I am pretty good at the animals' names, and I do better with the people than I would at my normal work.
Shortly after we finished laying down the straw, the volunteer tour was starting. The day was set up with orientation and a tour in the morning in order to help the new people to get acquainted with what Farm Sanctuary is all about. We visited with the turkeys, the geriatric cattle, and ended the tour with the chickens and turkey girls. There were a lot of questions among the group and I think Molly did a really good job of educating them. This is a great opportunity for the message to really register with people when they are in the company of the animals who suffer so much at man's callous hand.
When the tour was over, we headed back to the Main Office to see what was on the agenda for the rest of the day. On the way, a familiar sound announced that Whitaker wanted to make an impromptu cameo appearance on the tour. I think almost everyone in the group had seen him on-line (He is quite famous), but for most it was their first face to face visit. It is really touching to see how these farm celebrities connect with people, and Whitaker was in fine form, doting on his fans with kisses. He posed for pictures with his fan club before we had to move on.
When the time came to be split up into teams, or "work parties", I was assigned to work with Mike. I had seen Mike before at the farm, but we had never been introduced. Interestingly enough, he was aware of me based on the knives. The replacement knives that I had brought in had continued to make me famous among the Orland team. I guess that makes it a great investment. There were about ten of us in Mike's team and we headed up to the Chicken Barn to begin.
At first, I think Mike was a bit overstaffed. Our job for the day was to do a heavy duty cleaning of the coop, and to fill in the various holes that had formed around the inside edges. This meant removing the laying boxes, ladders, and other features, and then raking the straw, filling the holes, and returning all the stuff to its proper place. That was not enough to keep ten people fully occupied, so there had to be some creativity. I was assigned to be the "poop scraper", and I began by scraping the heavy stuff from all of the flat surfaces and onto the old straw. I augmented this by trying to help Mike find assignments for my fellow volunteers. First off, I noticed that the rafters were pretty dusty, so I found a duster with a long handle in the Turkey Barn and handed it off to someone. Then I found a small hand sweeper and provided it to another volunteer for removing things from the flat surfaces that my scraper was ill-suited for.
It took very little time to get the coop to the point where we were ready to fill holes. At first I suspected that the holes were probably the result of over-enthusiastic raking during barn cleaning. From personal experience, I knew that the rakes had a hard time discriminating between straw, poop, and rocks. Every rock that got raked up meant that there was one less rock to fill a hole. There were some holes, that couldn't be explained by this theory. Something had dug these. I suspected rats, but I wasn't sure, yet. In any case, we shoveled gravel from the bucket of a small bulldozer into a wheelbarrow and then dumped the wheelbarrow into the bigger holes. This was my first experience with a wheel barrow full of gravel and dirt. I would like to say that I was a natural, but my first attempt to maneuver it in the coop was not a rousing success, and much of the gravel was unceremoniously dumped short of the hole.
As with many repetitive tasks, like loading moving boxes, there always seemed to be a little bit more gravel that was needed so we made multiple trips until my shoulders and forearms burned from the shoveling and the wheel-barrowing, but it was starting to look pretty good. After watching Mike, I followed his lead with a makeshift giant T-handle that was used to pound the gravel in place before rolling it. It was in the middle of rolling that I saw a flash to my left side. I immediately recognized it as a barn rat. He was scurrying from side to side in the coop, and it became obvious he was looking for his home. My sense of achievement immediately felt a tinge of guilt creeping in. It was a perfect example of how even the best of intentions can have unintended consequences. To most, rats are a pest. In the Vegan world, even pests deserve the sanctity of life. Of course, for me, rats are pretty awesome little critters. I have had pet rats off and on for years, and I am especially fond of them. I would have one or more now if it wasn't for the fact that my attachment is so great and their lives are so short. To go through the heartache every two years is too much for me and I am on hiatus from the rat world. Seeing this little fellow was a nice reminder of why I loved the little animals so much. I watched him closely as he moved about the barn. His tail was cocked toward the tip, probably a sign of it having been broken at some point by a door, or more likely a narrow escape from a barn cat. I started to notice additional rats in the rafters but this little guy seemed to have some problems climbing. As it was, he was totally exposed on the ground. I had to do something. Heading back to the Turkey Barn, I grabbed one of the "buckets" (That's Farm Sanctuary speak for plastic trash can) and another long-handled duster. My plan worked as intended, and I had soon managed to coax my new friend into the trash can with the duster. I had decided that I could not bear to see him running back and forth manically and that it would be better if he found a new home. From my past experience with an inadvertently trapped juvenile possum, I knew that there were some nice comfortable holes in the nearby field, so I helped him relocate. As he made himself comfortable, I headed back to get him a "starter-kit" of grain, seeds, and pellets.
As I said my goodbyes, there was a moment where I wondered if I had done the right thing. Maybe I had just separated him from his family. Maybe he was more at risk now that he was on his own. Maybe he wouldn't like his new cozy hill-side hole. It was another lesson in the reality that there are many situations without easy answers and, in those cases all we can do is our best to apply judgment and hope that it turns out to be the right thing to do.
By now, it was lunch time and the other volunteers had headed to the People Barn for lunch. I was twenty-four hours into a fast, so I decided to sit out lunch. For the next hour it was just Mike and I in the barn, so we chatted a bit about how we had each arrived at this point in time. Mike had previously worked at a law firm before deciding that this was not the right path for him. He had moved on to Best Friends Animal Sanctuary in Utah. For those who have never heard of it or been there, it is an amazing place. Lori and I had visited on a road trip a few years back. We had been inspired by a book that I had picked up for Lori about the founding of the site. The stories had been so touching that we decided we had to see it for ourselves. It is located in Angel Canyon in Utah and it is pretty awesome to behold. The expanse of the sanctuary is inspiring. We had been impressed by the visitor's center and pasture and had figured that was it, but it went on and on. We had particularly enjoyed a visit to Dog Town, where we had met some really great dogs. This was where Mike had worked until he had decided that the place was too big for his tastes. There are four hundred plus employees there and he was looking for something a bit simpler and that had led him here. I really enjoyed my conversation with him and look forward to seeing him on my future visits. There are many times when I wish I had the guts to just say goodbye to what I am doing and make a drastic move. I guess it is a lot easier to do when you aren't married. In fact, I don't know if I have met anyone at Farm Sanctuary who is married to anyone but the animals.
In the midst of our discussion, I realized that our tour earlier hadn't included a visit with Coco, so I asked if it would be okay of I went to say hello. During my normal volunteer visits, I am generally allowed to spend time unattended with the animals, but since there were other people around, I wanted to make sure I was setting a good example and not running around in an anarchic state. Mike was fine with me going to hang out with Coco, so I did. She was a little shy again, but I remembered my trick from last time and after finding come alfalfa in her hay, I had her undivided attention in no time. She was still looking good, but the latest prognosis on her Johne's disease wasn't in yet so she was still chilling with Geraldine and Elton. I think she was a little disappointed that I didn't bring my camera, but I explained that this visit was more about making memories than taking pictures. She seemed cool with that, so we chatted about the weather and how sunny it was today and the latest barn gossip. It turned out there wasn't much of it, but there was one bit of information that I learned that I was saddening. Apparently Jamie was moving on to another animal sanctuary in southern California. In my experience, she and Wendall were among the "constants" on the Farm and I will miss seeing them (Lest the reader have concerns that I am losing it, I will admit that I actually learned this from Indran earlier in the day, but I think it sounded better like this).
Coco was definitely in a "pay to play" mood, so when I couldn't find any more alfalfa, she was off to do her thing, and I figured I should probably get back to volunteering. As it turned out, Mike was ready to visit the pigs so we did our quota of belly rubbing. Even though I have had the chance to do this on many occasions now, I still marvel at how much they seem to enjoy it. Their legs stretch out as they try to provide access to the whole length of their bellies. Their eyes close and they seem to be in bliss. It is very peaceful and it is easy to lose yourself in the moment.
Bonnie and Waylon were next door to the pigs in the little outdoor run that borders the "pig house". I find it so touching that they are always together. Ever since the first time I saw them last year, I have never seen them more than ten yards apart. I don't know how even the most skeptical person could see this and not realize that these two beautiful creatures share a real bond and affection for each other. There wasn't too much time to hang out, but I scratched Bonnie and Waylon's chins and kissed their noses to say hello.
The rest of the volunteers were done with lunch and started to arrive at the Chicken Barn. In order to avoid the earlier problem of overcrowded work conditions, I asked Mike what other tasks he had. As luck would have it, cleaning Coco's barn was next on the list and I figured that I would do that. One of the other volunteers, a lady named Angela from Ireland, offered to help. We had chatted a bit earlier in the day during the tour. When it comes to the animals, I can't help but share some of my stories about my visits, whether solicited or not. Luckily she had seemed pretty receptive, and we had chatted off and on the rest of the day. This was her first visit to the farm and I convinced her that it wasn't a proper visit without a visit with my girl Coco. Fortunately, between the two of us, we made quick work of the clean-up and, since we had extra time, I asked if she wanted a formal introduction. Coco was standing by her pile of hay, trying to pick out the pieces of alfalfa that were mixed in. The fact that she is a goat of discerning tastes worked in our favor since I was able to find several sprigs of alfalfa and share them with Angela. Coco wasn't at all hesitant to say, "Hi", if there was food involved. We split our time between Coco and Geraldine to make sure they both felt loved. I have grown really fond of Geraldine in my recent visits and I may have to add another sheep to my family at some point. If Coco ever gets to rejoin the goat herd, I have to believe she will miss her sheep friends.
When it was time to say goodbye, it turned out that the rest of the volunteers had finished their assignments as well and they were hanging out with the pigs. Seeing that, I didn't feel as guilty about spending time with Coco instead of working. Angela had never met the piggies before, and it was fun to see someone else experience that for the first time. Like me, she was amazed by how big they were and how eager they were to lay down for belly rubs. Such amazing creatures!
By now, Whitaker had decided to make another appearance. He announced his presence with his characteristic moos, and I decided to break away from the group and go see him. For the first time all day, I broke the rule a bit in front of the other volunteers and jumped the fence to get closer to Whitaker. He was willing to be petted for a little bit, but he was clearly feeling a little feisty and he began to play head-butt (His head, my butt) games before long. Not wanting to have an unfortunate scene in front of volunteers, I decided that maybe I would enjoy our visit a bit more from the other side of the fence. The poor little guy just doesn't understand how much bigger he is than the rest of us and I know he means no harm, but his play can be a bit rough. He finally obliged to give me a lick and I kissed his nose before preparing for my departure.
Since Lori was gone for the week visiting her parents in Tucson, we had a friend stop by to let Heidi out. In spite of this, I still felt bad about leaving Heidi alone all day, so once the work was done, I excused myself and started the drive home. As the Farm faded into the rear view mirror, I reflected on the day. It had been a good one. I had met some cool new people and felt renewed once more from the time with my friends. As one of the volunteers with the most experience, I had the experience of feeling like an insider; A feeling that I hope to experience on a more permanent basis at some point in the future. Plus, I hadn't been mounted by Whitaker so I had that going for me.
