Tag: rescue

Rescued Rooster Found His Flock—and Is a Huge Snugglebug

by Laura Lee Cascada, posted in Farmed Animals, Rescue

What do you get for an animal lover who already has everything she needs? A rooster sponsorship, clearly.

That’s what went through my mind during this past holiday season when I stopped by a pop-up for Grateful Meadows, a Virginia-based animal sanctuary and cozy B&B run by my friends Tori and Jonathan, and saw this face peering up at me from one of their holiday cards on the table.

This stunning redhead, named Lucia (“Loo-sha”), comes from a not-so-extraordinary background. Like thousands of birds who are unlucky enough to be born as males in the backyard chicken movement, he wasn’t considered particularly useful. So, like many others, Lucia was dumped and abandoned.

In the larger, industrial egg industry, male birds don’t have it any easier. Because only females are needed to lay eggs, newborn male chicks are killed just because of their sex. In the US, it’s estimated that about 260 million male chicks are suffocated, gassed, or macerated (picture: a giant blender for baby birds) to death each year.

Worldwide, this number surpasses six billion chicks every single year.

And then there’s cockfighting, a blood sport that’s illegal yet still prevalent across the US. For this gruesome game, breeding, training, and even steroids are used to amplify roosters’ natural fighting instincts. Before a fight, breeders will cut off a rooster’s combs to prevent tearing during the fight and pluck out most of his feathers. The birds are also outfitted with sharp spikes on their feet, exacerbating injuries.

These bloody matches often end in death.

But, fortunately, Lucia’s path took a different turn. Enter Grateful Meadows into Lucia’s life a little over a year ago. And just as much as they’ve changed his world and gifted him with a permanent loving home, he’s changed theirs.

Says Tori, “We’ve learned that chickens can purr like kittens when being pet. We’ve learned chickens make a distinct excited sound when they find something tasty.”

Lucia’s favorite sound? The cock-a-doodle-doo, of course. But his family has picked up on dozens of other noises he makes to convey his feelings and desires.

Perhaps as expected, Lucia acts as the sanctuary’s security guard, on alert for any visitors. He loves to put on a tough show. “But underneath those beautiful feathers,” admits Tori, “he’s all about snuggles.”

Every day, Lucia proves to everyone who meets him that roosters, often seen as aggressive and obnoxious, are actually loving, generous spirits.

Roosters are fiercely protective of their families and even do a dance known as “tidbitting” to alert other chickens to food. (Maybe we’d all do well to look to Lucia for a lesson on sharing.)

Speaking of food, Lucia’s faves? “Watermelon from the garden, grapes picked off the vine, and on occasion [he’ll] indulge in a very berry smoothie,” according to the Grateful Meadows website.

Ultimately, the biggest lesson we can learn from Lucia is perhaps one of the most important and challenging of our lives: Question stereotypes, and dig deep beneath the surface.

Hopefully, with feathered cuddlebugs like Lucia taking the internet by storm, roosters’ bad rep will soon fly the coop.

Now at Grateful Meadows, Lucia shares the roost with a motley crew of other rescued animals: a hungry potbellied pig named Winnie, who eats everything; comedic donkey brothers Archer and Marley; a loyal dog named Baelyn; and others. Birds of a feather don’t always flock together, it seems, as this hodgepodge of species has come together into one big, happy family.

It is there, tucked between sprawling country fields, that these lucky rescues have found their nesting place. It is where, put simply, “the warm welcoming embrace of a retreat center” meets “the safety, peace, and compassion of a sanctuary for the animal residents.”

Lucia stole my heart from the moment I saw his photo on the table that winter day, and now he’s stolen yet another in the friend I gifted with his sponsorship.

To help spread the wingspan of Grateful Meadows’ work for animals, you can join me in sponsoring Lucia, Archer, Marley, or any of the other residents: Just visit this website.

All photos courtesy of Grateful Meadows.

Meet a 2-Year-Old Pig the Size of a Milk Jug. Where He Came from Will Shock You.

by Laura Lee Cascada, posted in Companions, Farmed Animals, Rescue

Meet Beacon. Hunched over, timid, and hardly bigger than a gallon of milk — you’d think he was just a piglet. But Beacon was two years old when he was rescued and given a chance to truly live.

He was born February 6, 2016. “That date is also the date I got married in 1996,” says his new mom, Anna Hoffman of Ohio, “which couldn’t be more of a sign that lady fate knew what she was doing bringing Beacon into my life on a date that represents dedicated, loyal, everlasting love.”

Prior to his adoption, Beacon lived in an aquarium.

Yes, a glass tank.

At just days old, he was sold to a man with good intentions but basically no knowledge on what raising a piglet would require. So when a vet told him to feed the piglet just 1/8 of a cup of food in the morning and 1/4 of a cup in the evening, that’s exactly what he did.

For two years, Beacon ate 3/8 cup of food daily and drank from a guinea pig water bottle hanging from the side of his tank.

For two years, he only knew those glass walls.

For two years, he was known as Bacon.

Anna knew that changing his name would only cause more unnecessary stress and confusion. So, she settled on a name that was quite similar phonetically, yet so deeply different at its core: Beacon, which “seemed fitting because [she] truly believe[s] he is and will continue to be a Beacon of hope and light for all unwanted, neglected fur babies out there.”

Of course, as he settled into his new home, there were many uncertainties: his fragile health, his timid personality, his future. But his new family was determined, patient, and kind. They slowly increased his feed; offered him a comfortable place to sleep; introduced him to grass and sunshine; and even provided him with a friend, their potbellied pig, Charlotte.

At two years old, Beacon should have weighed 50 pounds or more (because “teacup” pigs are not a real thing), but he was only 11 pounds — hardly 3 pounds more than a gallon of milk. His hooves were overgrown, his back was curved, and his sides were sunken in.

And such is the plight of thousands more like him, sold by breeders who say they will stay petite if you don’t “overfeed” them. But while these pigs might not weigh in at 50 or 100 pounds, it’s not because they’ve been bred to be the Chihuahuas of the porcine world.

They, quite simply, are starved. Their bellies shrivel in, and their bodies consume every ounce of body fat, desperate to stay alive. They are the faces of the “teacup” pig industry.

But, for the lucky Beacon, at 11 pounds and suddenly living a life of luxury, the only thing to do now was grow, and grow he did.

And while he grew, Beacon learned that he could snuggle. Graze. Gorge himself on apples.

He learned that he could be loved. And trust. And roll over for belly rubs.

He even learned that pools aren’t so scary.

And Beacon learned that bliss is just one butt scratch away.

Most importantly, he learned that no matter how bleak life gets, there is always hope. And now, via his Facebook page, he’s inspiring others every day with his determination, zest for life, and quirky personality to find some light in even the darkest of places — and to never let it go.

Follow Beacon on Facebook to keep up with his amazing journey as he grows, romps, oinks, and squeals with his forever family by his side. 

(Photo credits: Beacon the Piggy of Light and Hope, Anna Hoffman)

Esther the Wonder Pig

One Green Planet: How Esther the Wonder Pig Helped Save the Lives of 10 Pigs from North Carolina

by Laura Lee Cascada, posted in Farmed Animals, Rescue

This article was originally published by One Green Planet. (By Laura Lee Cascada)

We all know and love Esther the Wonder Pig, the “micro pig” who fell into the arms of Canadian couple Derek Walter and Steve Jenkins and then kept growing, and growing, and growing. At 650 pounds, today she fills Facebook, Instagram, and our hearts with photos of her wearing cupcake pajamas or barely fitting on the couch.

But perhaps Esther’s magic is most evidenced by her ability to spread compassion with every oink, a phenomenon her dads have termed the “Esther Effect.” And the Esther Effect is in full force over at the Facebook hub of her thousands of loyal soldiers: Esther’s Army. Kicked off in 2014 as a fundraiser for Happily Ever Esther, Steve and Derek’s haven for rescued farmed animals, Esther’s Army has evolved into an advocacy and rescue powerhouse, having helped stop pig wrestling events and find homes for hundreds of animals in need.

A Compassionate Army

This fall, Esther’s Army was faced with its biggest challenge yet, according to Monica Lynn, who spearheads the group. A couple in North Carolina had purchased 10 young pigs to raise them for food but quickly had a change of heart and could no longer envision their new porcine friends as bacon on a plate. That’s when they contacted Esther’s Army for help.

The troops answered the call, searching from coast to coast for the perfect home to keep these 10 bonded pigs together. But finding that home seemed impossible — especially because most of the pigs were Yorkshires, just like Esther herself (imagine: a combined 6,000 pounds of full-grown pigs). To top it off, the farmer and his wife were running out of funds, the pigs did not have proper shelter, and cold weather was on the horizon. If a home wasn’t found soon, according to Lynn, the pigs could have ended up on the chopping block.

Esther the Wonder Pig
Photo by Courtney Zawisa

Just in time, Esther’s Army’s pleas were finally heard by Lorelei and Ron Pulliam of Ranger’s Refuge, a sanctuary in Virginia for over 150 pigs. But Ranger’s Refuge — in the midst of its own fundraising efforts to move to a larger property — had reached capacity, filled with discarded former “teacup” pigs. Fortunately, the Pulliams had recently helped Debbi Torres of Moyock, North Carolina, establish her own budding sanctuary, Over the Rainbow. Torres had five empty, grassy acres and a barn, but to foster these 10 pigs until Ranger’s Refuge was ready, she would need the help of an army.

On October 5, a shockwave rippled through the ranks, as news broke internationally of an overturned pig truck at a slaughterhouse outside Toronto. Locals from the advocacy group Toronto Pig Save gathered in vigil, awaiting the fate of the survivors. On the scene were Esther’s dads Steve and Derek, who offered up their sanctuary to no avail. None of the pigs were spared.

In the midst of tragedy, Esther’s Army couldn’t give up hope for the pigs in North Carolina. So the army sprang into action once more, raising over $2,500 for the pigs’ care within 24 hours. Then, the next hurdle presented itself: transporting 10 pigs across the state to their new home. That task piqued the interest of one particular soldier, Wikolia “Vikki” Sgro-Konopka of Virginia Beach, who had been left feeling hopeless in the aftermath of the October 5th crash. Piecing together a transport team helped restore Vikki’s faith in Happily Ever Afters — erm, Esthers.

A New Home for the Pigs 

On a cool fall evening, a small crowd gathered to welcome the pigs to their new home. As the gates to the trailer opened, we all finally set eyes on 10 wide-eyed pigs huddled together. This time, it took just a small army to encourage them to set foot on solid ground. “If they don’t want to do something, they’re not gonna do it, no matter what. It has to be their idea,” said Torres, chuckling, of the infamously stubborn beings.

Esther the Wonder Pig

 But they made it off that trailer, and today, Bonnie, Clyde, Anita, Andrea, Krista Lynn, Rob, Derek, Jenny Bee, Tom, and Steve can be found chasing each other through the fields and exchanging curious glances with Spot, their 1,000-pound friendly neighbor.

Esther the Wonder Pig

The pigs’ journey isn’t quite over, as the Pulliams push forward with their urgent fundraiser to bring these — and the rest of their pigs — home forever. But for now, says Debbi Torres, “I just wanna love my pigs and see ’em all happy and munching on grass and rolling in the mud.”

And, thanks to Esther’s Army, the next Happily Ever Esther may be just around the corner.

Mr. Bagel - The Every Animal Project

This Little Furball Is on a Big Mission

by Laura Lee Cascada, posted in Companions, Rescue

(Story by Laura Lee Cascada / Photographs by Steve Byun, @chinnybuddy)

Mr. Bagel - The Every Animal ProjectThis ball of fluff is Mr. Bagel. Despite how it looks, he’s not a gargantuan field mouse from some alternate universe of adorable creatures with big eyes and even bigger ears. He’s a chinchilla from regular old planet Earth.

But before you run out to your local pet shop and scoop up a chinchilla of your own, Mr. Bagel has a word of advice for you: Stop!

Over the last decade, unwanted chinchillas have filled shelters from coast to coast, an unfortunate consequence of those cartoonish ears and bushy tails, which lure children in until boredom sets in and their pet is cast aside in favor of a new sparkly rainbow unicorn.

Horror stories abound on the Internet, such as the tale of a chinchilla who was accidentally sat on by his child guardian and that of his replacement, who was fed such a poor diet that she took to biting out her own fur.

Mr. Bagel is one of the fortunate chins–rescued about 8 years ago in San Francisco and currently living out his days in style with his guardian, Steve Byun, in Southern California. Steve reports that Mr. Bagel enjoys the run of the house, but of course, never fails to make his way back to the cage to do his business.

Truth is, like any companion animal, chinchillas require specialized care and years of devotion. Their diet must be filled with chewable delicacies to wear down their ever-growing teeth–which can actually grow at a rate of up to a foot per year!  And don’t dare throw them in the tub for a rinse-off, which can leave them sick with matted fur.  Rather, chinchillas prefer to bathe desert-style–in lots and lots of dust.

Over the last several years, Mr. Bagel has become not just the star of his own household, but also of the Internet. Through his Instagram page and other social media channels, Mr. Bagel (via Steve’s photography skills) shares his life. There, you’ll find dozens upon dozens of photos of his feathery tail and heart-melting eyes–along with a few of him clutching a tiny chinchilla-sized shopping cart or donning a wizard hat.

Boo! #MrBagel #chinchilla

A photo posted by Mr. Bagel the Chinchilla (@chinnybuddy) on

He even has his own online shop. Because who wouldn’t want a bagel with their coffee?  And Mr. Bagel will never forget his roots, as a portion of proceeds goes back to helping homeless chinchillas.

Mr. Bagel Says No to Fur - Every Animal ProjectBefore you go, Mr. Bagel has one last message for you. Winter’s just around the corner, which means it’s nearly time to break out the winter coats. Chinchillas are known to have the softest fur you’ll ever touch, which means, you guessed it, chinchilla fur coats. But it can take up to 150 of these little puff balls to churn out one fur coat, and that process is reminiscent of a horror film whose protagonists are hundreds of thousands of gentle beings who look like they should be starring in a warm and fuzzy Pixar children’s movie instead. But on factory fur farms, these guys are confined to tiny wire cages and driven mad before being violently killed for their fur.  It’s a far cry from Mr. Bagel’s luxurious estate.

So let’s all say “no” to fur this year and instead indulge ourselves with this photo of Mr. Bagel napping atop a stuffed animal–along with over 1,000 other gems right here.

How #MrBagel deals with Monday’s 🐭💤 #chinchilla

A photo posted by Mr. Bagel the Chinchilla (@chinnybuddy) on

 

Teddy - Wags 4 Hope - The Every Animal Project

This Shaggy Dog Beat Heartworms–Now the Art He Inspired Is Saving Others Like Him

by Laura Lee Cascada, posted in Companions, Rescue

(By Laura Lee Cascada / Photographs by Annie Blumenfeld)

Annie Blumenfeld - Wags 4 Hope - The Every Animal Project
Annie Blumenfeld with dog, Teddy

Meet Teddy. Four years ago, he bounded into Connecticut teen Annie Blumenfeld’s life and changed it forever. Now, in 2016, Teddy spends his days watching chickens and roosters peck around the neighborhood, eagerly awaiting his next adventure with each walk and car ride. He lives a life of luxury, preferring to take his water from a glass–with plenty of ice cubes, thank-you-very-much.

But before his happily-ever-after, Teddy’s story was bleak. In a shelter in Texas, this shaggy, tail-wagging dog was slated to be euthanized because he had tested heartworm-positive, plagued with a serious parasitic infection of the heart, lungs, and surrounding vessels–all because somewhere along the way, he hadn’t received a simple monthly preventative. As the cost of treating heartworm disease can range from $600 to $2,000 (compare that with the cost of prevention, often equalling out to just a few cups of coffee each month), the only option for many overwhelmed, underfunded shelters like Teddy’s is a final, irreversible one: death.

Fortunately, just days before that fateful walk, Teddy was scooped up by Houston Shaggy Dog Rescue (warning: click the link, and be prepared to be overwhelmed with adorable pictures of furry mops with bright pink tongues and barely-visible eyes). His treatment began right away: over a month of cage confinement as an arsenic-based poison flowed through his system. As dying heartworms are dislodged from the heart area, excessive movement can cause fatal blockages of arteries. So dogs must remain still, giving their bodies time to break down the parasites. This treatment period can be grueling, leaving dogs feeling lethargic, feverish, and coughing. But Teddy survived it.

Now, meet Annie. When she learned of the painful process Teddy had to go through before he could join his loving family, her heart broke. Annie did some research and found out that animals with heartworm disease rarely stand a chance in shelters because of the high cost and length of treatment. Around that time, a piece of her art, a painting of a sheepdog, was featured in a local art show. There, a woman approached her and asked to buy the piece–and if she could paint other dogs. The wheels of 14-year-old Annie’s clock started turning. She became a teen on a mission.

Wags 4 Hope - The Every Animal ProjectAnnie thus founded Wags 4 Hope, a 501(c)(3) organization dedicated to spreading awareness of heartworm disease and relieving the burden of shelters’ veterinary bills. To fulfill her mission, Annie sells custom-painted portraits of dogs, cats, and even the occasional pig and then donates the proceeds to shelters and rescue groups all over the world. And to help spare other dogs from the horrors that her dog, Teddy–and others who are not so lucky–endured, she speaks out about the importance of heartworm prevention in big and small ways.

Her efforts recently paid off in one gigantic way at the Connecticut State Capitol, where Annie worked with lawmakers and rallied citizens for over a year to pass H.B. 5422, a bill that would add a checkbox onto Connecticut’s dog-licensing application for guardians to indicate whether their dog is on heartworm prevention. While not mandating the use of a heartworm preventative, the bill aimed to raise awareness of the disease and prompt guardians to look into this easy step to protect their dogs.

On the first go-round, the bill failed to pass. But Annie persisted with Teddy and hundreds of citizens by her side, and Connecticut became the first state with a heartworm awareness message on its dog license form. The Department of Agriculture ordered 100,000 copies of the form, which is available statewide and online.Wags 4 Hope - The Every Animal Project Annie has now set her sights even higher, hoping that other states will follow suit.

Today, after four years, Wags 4 Hope’s art continues to make waves and raise money for shelter animals online, where its Facebook page has garnered over 6,000 likes (help it get to 7,000!). Annie’s even recently launched a line of chic clothing featuring her artwork in partnership with Vida. You can become a part of Annie’s vision by visiting the Wags 4 Hope website and supporting her work.

In the meantime, Teddy’s story marches on, proving day after day that one dog–and his inspirational human–can change the world.

Patchouli at Farm Sanctuary - The Every Animal Project

Patchouli, Rooster Reject

by Laura Lee Cascada, posted in Farmed Animals, Rescue

When I met Patchouli at Farm Sanctuary’s Watkins Glen, New York shelter, home to over 500 rescued animals, in mid-2014, I was amazed that I managed to capture a photograph of him at all. As the jet-black rooster darted around visitors’ feet, our tour guide shared the beginnings of his story.

A shipment of chicks had been sent out to a customer by a hatchery but was found some time later in transit bearing the words “return to sender.”

About half the animals in the shipment, marked as containing 100 hens, had died. But Patchouli was among the living. It was thought that as a rooster, he might have just been thrown in as packing material.

Shortly after birth, I’ve read, chicks have the ability to outsmart human babies in “peek-a-boo” and apparently have a better grasp on physics than I can claim, preferring realistic drawing plans over impossible ones.

I have no doubt that Patchouli, in his unfathomable tiny yellow chick form, aced these and other developmental milestones. And in his striking adult form, he maneuvered over the landscape sharply, with purpose, as if announcing his majesty’s reign to foreign invaders. His story might have begun in a dark, cramped box, but he surely got his happily-ever-after in the rolling hills of Upstate New York.

Puppy from Na'alehu - The Every Animal Project

The Pup from Na’alehu

by Laura Lee Cascada, posted in Companions, Rescue

It was late one evening in the spring of 2015 as a carload of us–my wife, Rachel, and I, along with two friends–were making the long trip back from Hawai’i Volcanoes National Park to my parents’ home in the Ka’u District halfway around the Big Island. We’d just hit a straight stretch of road outside of the quaint town of Na’alehu when my eye caught a glimpse of a small white blob slinking along the right-of-way. I slammed on the brakes, feeling fortunate in the aftermath that we were the single car on the road.

The white blob was barely bigger than a coconut with two pointed ears, one hopelessly failing to stay upright. We quickly scooped this young pup up, inhaling a scent reminiscent of death and risking a major onslaught of fleas. We couldn’t leave him, so young and vulnerable. There was one option. We’d come to visit my parents in their newfound retirement for just two weeks, and apparently, we had forgotten to bring a gift. This wormy and homeless pup would have to do. We drove onward as I played out the scenario that was to unfold in my mind.

You can’t seem to go anywhere without picking up a dog, they sighed, just as I’d imagined.

Pup from Na'alehu - The Every Animal Project

The next few days were filled with howling. And poop. And more howling. And even more poop. And as I walked from my room to the shower each morning, a shark-let gnawed at my ankles until they felt raw.

It became clear that this pup had no home. But, not quite thrilled about the prospect of spending endless bright, sunny days mopping up diarrhea, my parents pledged to get him in with the local rescue and out the door as soon as possible.

Each morning, as our troupe prepared for the day’s outing, we’d turn our backs just long enough to find this pup, now named Niu (and eventually renamed Pip), sprawled out atop our backpacks and lunch coolers. At night, as Rachel rocked in an old wooden chair, he gradually ascended her torso and wrapped his tiny body around her neck. On a hike, his lanky legs failed him over the rocky terrain, so he was quickly swaddled in a makeshift sling, a.k.a Rachel’s hoodie. There wasn’t an object that couldn’t be made a bed. He just seemed to fit, always.

When Rachel and I returned to Hawai’i this month, Pip was still there. I suppose that, somehow, he had just seemed to fit his way right into our family. Not much had changed, really, except that this tiny coconut had matured into a 70-pound barrel. His howls had been upgraded to barks, and, fortunately, his bowels seemed to have been tamed. That ear, the one that always seemed to droop, had finally learned to stand tall.

For the first few days, surprisingly, Pip seemed to have no recollection of us. He hovered in corners and darted out of rooms when we came near–perhaps confirmation that his mother had been a stray. Rachel learned that she could approach him with her back turned toward him and then slowly slip a hand out for him to sniff. I tried my luck, somewhat unsuccessfully, at bribing Pip with treats; I’m sure he saw right through these thinly-veiled attempts at bonding. Sometimes I even managed a few pats on the head before he turned around and recognized me as the patter. It was hard, but inevitably, we knew our only hope was to respect his space–essentially, to leave him be.

So, ignore him, we did. Soon he began to test the waters, slowly climbing the stairs to our room and poking his head in just long enough to catch some sniffs before our eyes locked on him, and then–danger, retreat!

Near the end of our visit, all hope seemed lost. We simply weren’t going to be friends. It wasn’t meant to be. We’d admire Pip from afar; he’d stare back at us with mounting suspicions. But one day, as we sat around the table for lunch, Pip scampered between pairs of legs. A wet tongue began to brush against my knee. And it licked and licked and licked.

I wish I could say that it was all peachy keen from that point forward. It wasn’t. Pip still kept his distance; we continued to make peace offerings. Little by little, we seemed to get closer and closer. By the end of the trip, I managed to plant a kiss on his forehead. We hadn’t become best friends, but we’d started to test the friendship waters. Next time, I know he’ll be ready for us, and we for him.

P.S. If you have a dog with social or separation anxiety like Pip, check out this great guide to eliminating fear in your dog from Natural Wonder Pets. In addition to their K9 Calm formula containing organic calming herbs like chamomile and passion flower, they offer a step-by-step guide to changing your interactions with your pup to promote confidence in him. One piece of their advice that’s really worked at home (and with Pip) is to act like your departure and arrival are simply no big deal and to wait to greet your pup for several minutes after getting home. Dogs are so in-tune with their guardians that when we act like coming and going isn’t a huge ordeal, they start to take notice. For that gem and more, click here.

(Note: This post contains affiliate links.)