Vacation Re-Run Post
It’s there every time I enter the barn: a love so palpable that I often feel my heart will explode. My partner and I founded Catskill Animal Sanctuary, a haven for abused and abandoned farm animals, in 2001, and what surprises me most six years into the work is not what callous people do to animals, not the long hard days, not the uncertainties inherent in rescue work. A volunteer once commented to me, “There’s so much love here it’s even in the dirt,” and yes, she was right. CAS breaths love. That is the biggest surprise.
It is unlikely I would have read that introduction to the engaging, well-written, and totally enjoyable book (okay, I want to say heart-warming, but am a little hesitant to use such a worn cliché) Where the Blind Horse Sings:Love and Healing at an Animal Sanctuary by Kathy Stevens if my sister Jill hadn’t given me a copy.
My sister and I are alike in many ways: we both eat more rapidly than a starving pack of dogs, money slides away from us faster than ice from roofs during sudden thaws, and we will both take up and research a new interest as though we were the first in the world to discover . . . you name it. The difference is, while I was probably Googling best skin serums, Jill found her way to the Catskill Animal Sanctuary where she now gives massages to nine hundred pound pigs with names, and washes hundreds of tin bowls used for feeding rescued and now pampered farm animals. It’s Jill who gave me the above book, written by the founder and director of the Catskill Animal Sanctuary, Kathy Stevens.
My sister is a good and caring person. I may also carry the helper gene—but sadly, while her generosity extends to animals, I’ve always been a bit afraid of them. Thus, here is one more reason I am blessed to have her in my life: she helps me remember why humanity should care for and treat well all animals. In this book the author quotes Milos Kundera, author of The Unbearable Lightness of Being: “True human goodness, in all it’s purity and freedom, can come to the fore only when it’s recipient has no power. Mankind’s true test consists of its attitude towards those who are at its mercy: animals.”
Each chapter in Steven’s book tells the story of another rescued animal. Rambo is an Alpha sheep who lets the staff know when another animal is in trouble. Paulie, a former cockfighting rooster, once ready to cause pain by sinking his talons, now eats lunch with people and accompanies them on errands. Franklin, a depressed pig, after years of neglect must be coaxed away from the known-comfort of his own filth—a goal finally and joyously met by the ever-patient staff. Buddy the titled blind horse, immobilizes by fear after being penned for years in barbed wire that would pierce him with every movement, is taught, through the author’s love and patience, to discover the joy of walking free.
Where the Blind Horse Sings reminded me that humanity might mean looking outside of humans to build our belief in goodness and perseverance. It reminded me how differently each person may experience joy. And it reminded me, how smart my sister is, to find such a good and special place where she can spend time healing pigs and other creatures, great and small, back to their rightful place in the world.
Get this for someone who loves animals. Absolutely buy it for anyone who doesn’t.
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