A message from the sanctuary president

Summer 2006

Monty siding in the barn, looking very relaxed.
Monty is able to put his past behind him, but he still retains the scars from his mistreatment.

Dear Friends,

What would you feel if your legs were bound and you were left by the side of the road? Would it be fear? Would it be pain as the ropes cut into your legs? Would you tremble? And if you were rescued, would you ever be able to trust again?

On the cover of this newsletter is Monty, a male Nubian goat. Monty was a jumper. He always sought the greener grass by repeatedly jumping the fence. To stop his wandering, his owners tied his right rear leg to his left front leg with bailing twine. He was found laying by the side of the road. The twine was cutting into his legs. He still bears the scars almost seven years later, and they will always be there as a reminder of his past.

Monty was the first goat to join my troop of animals at the yet-to-be-formed Lighthouse Farm Sanctuary. At first, he was kept separate from the other animals. It made it easier for me to clean his wounds and ensure that he didn’t have anything contagious. He was given plenty of food, water, and shelter, but he called out constantly. There were other animals nearby, so he wasn’t necessarily lonely, and he had been by himself before. Yet, he called and called—soft, almost inaudible cries.

Eventually, the time came when he could join the other animals. When his gate was opened, I expected him to quickly run out to the pasture. Instead, he followed me to the chicken coop that I was cleaning. He didn’t want to come into the coop; I think he just wanted to be near me. Maybe he was somehow saying “thank you.”

Some people would think that I am projecting human emotions onto an animal. They would say that animals do not feel or perceive— they are not sentient. If that were true, why would Monty seek the comfort of a human being after being treated so badly by a human before? Wouldn’t he prefer to stay as far away as possible. Why risk it? I would like to think that Monty knew that staying behind the fence would be the safe, risk-free thing to do.

Monty and many of the other animals who suffered at the hands of humans have decided that there can be good things awaiting them if they stand in front of the fence instead of behind it. Yes, they can risk a lot if things don’t work out, but they also stand the possibility of gaining so much more—more than just food, water, shelter and veterinary care. They can experience the positive side of people, a kinder, gentler side. A side we don’t always see.

The Lighthouse Farm Sanctuary can be just the catalyst to help remind us of this other side of human nature. The animals at the Sanctuary offer me comfort and remind me to lighten up a little (okay, maybe a lot). And each time the world rears its ugly head, I seek the comfort of the farm. It helps me open the gate just a little further...stand up a little bolder in front of the fence...risk just a bit more. Most of all, it helps me offer and receive comfort.

If you need a little boost, why not join us for Gentle Thanksgiving and Sanctuary Celebration on November 18 from 1 to 3 pm. Remind yourself of the kinder, gentler side of life.

With much gratitude,

Wayne S. Geiger, President