Going Country

Since my first post about Nevin's Farm, the animal shelter where I am volunteering, I have gotten a bit more experience 'workin' on t' farm'. I thought I would give a little update about my time there.

Horse stalls are a lot like people's apartments. Some are neat and tidy with all things unmentionable pushed into corners or buried out of sight (definitely not reflective of my apartment!). Ducky's stall is a great example of this. Ducky has some draft horse in her, and as you may imagine, she is a big 'un. As such, I was expecting a big messy stall to go with her size. Lo' and behold, her stall looked almost spotless except for the far back corner of her stall where all of her waste was deposited and fastidiously covered with shavings. It was so easy to clean! This was in stark comparison to those stalls where you have to watch where you step and weave your way through piles of trash. Now, I hate to be sexist, but naturally these stalls belong to the stallions (typical male!). Food and poo were everywhere, and their stalls have to be completely gutted everytime I am there. I think we have all run into apartments like this at one point or another.

Nevin's farm has a lot of people stopping by just to see the animals with their kids. Kids love watching the animals, which means I generally have an audience if I am working out in one of the pens. In general, I tend to forget people are even there, but there are definitely times when I am reminded of their presence. These times tend to be a source of embarassment for me, such as the first time I had to herd geese into the adjoining pen. I'm pretty sure geese are not smart animals, but I was beginning to suspect some hidden intellect since they seemed to be doing their best not to go where I wanted them to go. There I was crouched low to the ground, my arms flung out to my sides, trying to herd the geese into the next pen while simultaneously shuffling behind them, snapping my fingers, and clucking at them. My frustration with the geese was only heightened by my awareness of three moms with their small children lined up along the fence watching my goose two-step with open amusement. Although this still better than the time I passed by a mother and her son just after I had finished mucking out stalls, hauling hay, and cleaning the chicken coop. The son turned to his mother and asked, " Why is that lady so dirty?" Children are so (sometimes brutally) honest!

All in all, I am really enjoying my time at the farm. The animals amaze me constantly. Some of them have experienced nothing but pain and misuse all of their life. Yet give them good care and kind attention, they forgive and forget. The staff is great; all of them lovely people to work with. I'm just glad I can be a part of it.