Many of our residents actually arrive from other sanctuaries some of which have run into difficulties of one kind or another or they reach out to us because they have taken on an animal that is not best suited to their set up. We haven’t come across one rescue or sanctuary not run by a big hearted individual or two or three who work every hour they are given, are sincere, generous in all aspects, and totally devoted. Unfortunately however, for all their wonderful qualities there are some that run sanctuaries, or at least start running them, that can end up causing more grief and suffering to their charges than helping them. It may be that they are just too kind and generous to know when they must say no to a new animal, it could be that they spend all their time tending their wards that they neglect raising the funds to continue, or perhaps worse neglect to look after themselves. Kindness is a wonderful trait and there is not enough of it around, but unchecked it can also be a profound weakness.
I firmly believe that in running a sanctuary you must know and keep tabs on your limitations, in particular your financial ones, your space ones and your time limitations. To fail to observe and respect any one of these can put indue pressure on yourself and the sanctuary and ultimately the worst to suffer will the vulnerables for whom the home was created. Perhaps the hardest word to pronounce is ‘no’, to turn down a request to take in a new creature, but in fact ‘no’ can be the most loving, caring and responsible word if it ensures the safety and health of those you are already caring for.
Too many sanctuaries close, sometimes for reasons completely unavoidable and hard or impossible to predict, sometimes we have seen them close because they haven’t been able to say ‘no’ early enough.
The spring after we started Pen Y Bryn Kelly saw a post on Facebook about a pig sanctuary that was having to close – I can’t quite remember their reason. It was a typically desperate plea for help in rehoming their porcine inhabitants and Kelly was taken by the sincerity. She duly (without telling me at the time) dropped a message to say that we would love to help but could only take two small pigs. She soon got a return note saying that that was fantastic and that they definitely had two small brothers of lovely natures that would be perfect.
Kelly isn’t one to take anyone completely at their word so she asked for measurements and some photos, which she received.
Shortly after this I was put into the picture.
Kelly doesn’t bat her eyelids, at least not at me, when she wants something, but she does know how to play me and even when it’s obvious I am still seduced by her act.
‘Ah,’ she sighed one evening as we were both sat at the kitchen table, ‘have you seen this post about the piggie sanctuary?’.
‘No,’ I replied, ‘what pig sanctuary?’
‘Oh, it’s so sad, they’re having to close and they desperately need homes for all their little piggies.’ She went on innocently.
‘Hmmm,’ I mused, ‘It would be a lot of work to sort out a space and shelter for any pigs and I’m absolutely knackered from making the paddock and I need to make another chicken run.’ It was half statement, half ponder.
‘Yes, yes I know,’ Kelly absently countered, ‘I was just saying how sad it was, they’re going to go to slaughter if no one takes them in.’
‘It would be a lot of work,’ I repeated, ‘And I don’t know anything about pigs.’
‘I know, but you’re so good and the new run could wait and we had pigs when I was a girl, you’d be fine, but honestly I just mentioned it because it’s so sad.’
‘Well, maybe if there were just a couple of small pigs?’ I suggested.
It was what she was waiting for.
‘There are,’ Kelly enthusiastically informed me, ‘two small brothers, very tame, pot bellied.’
‘Oh, really? How small?’
‘Just about up to my knee, they’re called Merlin and Midnight, really lovely natures, here I’ve got some photos on my phone.’
My suspicions were aroused.
‘How do you know so much about them if you’ve only just seen the post and how come you’ve got photos of them?’
Kelly blushed slightly and turned away so that I couldn’t see her smiling, knowing that I had worked out her game.
‘Well, I saw the post last week actually and just said to them that maybe, possibly, there was a chance that we could help them if they had two small piggies.’ (I really hate the way she adds ridiculous endings to nouns – like piggies, doggies and worst of all sockies! What I hate even more is when I find myself doing the same thing).
‘Pigs’ I stated sternly.
‘Piggies,’ she answered.
‘Pigs’ I repeated.
‘Piggies’ she said in a tone to put the matter to bed. ‘Anyway they said they had these two adorable boys that had been bought by a lady as piglets thinking they were micro pigs, when it turned out that they weren’t she gave them to the sanctuary. Merlin and Midnight, lovely names don’t you think? Here look at these piccies.’ She was gabbling and I knew there was something that either I was missing or she wasn’t telling me. I looked at the pictures. They were slightly out of focus photos of two small black pigs, they looked inoffensive enough.
‘Ok, I’ll have a think about it. I just need to get my head round where they will go and what I need to do.’
Kelly smiled and rose from the table to collect my empty cup of tea and kissed me gently on the cheek, then she turned and moved towards the sink.
‘Thank you,’ it was a half whisper, ‘But don’t think too long, they’re coming next Saturday.’
It wasn’t unusual to be ambushed like that and I have done my fair share of ambushing too, we do work together and ask each other’s advice most of the time but neither of us are scared of making an independent decision and then dealing with the consequences afterwards. Inevitably we work things out between us and the animals are always put first.
I had to put up some sort of grievance though as we are meant to make important decisions together. I flounced around a bit pouting and scowling, but in all honesty I was excited and even though the extra work concerned me I knew that I would find the time somehow or other.
I grumped for about an hour and then we started to chat about what we were going to do, where the pigs would go and how we would make it work. I looked again at the photos and judged for myself the size of the pigs from the measurements that Kelly had been sent. Then I thought I would ease my workload by buying a ready made pig arc rather than construct one. A lot of new housing we purchase is made from reconstituted plastic by firms like Solway, Nestera and Shaneco, all great companies with a similar ethos. Solway did a lovely range in pig arcs for kune kune and pot-bellied pigs. I deliberated for a good hour or so and then chose one that I felt was more than suitable for the size of the boys now on the way to us.
I worked pretty tirelessly for the next few days pounding new half round posts into the ground to map out a new paddock in our orchard. I then wired them together with livestock wire, made gates from old pallets, dug out a small wallow for them and then with perfect timing rolled the pig arc from the top of the drive where it had been dropped off by the courier, to the new pig enclosure. Not for the first or last time I was exhausted preparing for incomers, but along with the exhaustion always comes satisfaction and a good level of excitement. On this occasion I was particularly self-congratulatory because I had finished everything a whole day before the new area would be put to use. For any bluster that I may have given out at the beginning I had managed to pull off the operation in good time without any major mishaps.
The pigs were due to arrive early afternoon of the following day. I had been informed during the week that there were some possible problems with the transportation – the sanctuary owner had at first had trouble finding anyone that could transport the pigs to us, but that had been sorted and everything was on schedule.
All Saturday morning we were nervous with anticipation. Whenever anything new is due to join us, and it really doesn’t matter what it is, we both feel a sense of trepidation, a nervousness of rejection or that us and our sanctuary will be judged inadequate – either by the incoming animal or the humans that are bringing it. The nervousness is born from a fear of failure and also a fear of rejection. We have full confidence in ourselves to do our utmost and our very best for anything and everything that comes to stay, but in the first few moments, minutes, hours and effectively until the following morning, we feel that sense of personal vulnerability. The fear of us losing something in the first few hours is terrible and tangible. Getting through successfully with a live new resident for twenty four hours is massive.
Just after two in the afternoon my phone rang. The buzzer at our gates had been pressed.
‘Hello,’ I answered the phone.
‘Hello mate, got some pigs for you,’ The voice came back through my phone, though I could actually hear him from where I stood by the garage.
‘Lovely,’ I replied as casually as possible, ‘come on in,’ I pressed the number on my mobile phone that would open up the gates and went to stand in front of the garage to direct them in. As I did so Kelly emerged from one of the aviaries where she had been cleaning out the guinea pigs.
‘Is this them?’ she asked.
‘Yep,’ I replied, and then as the large Range Rover drove down the drive I said, ‘that’s a bit overkill isn’t it? A horsebox? I thought they’d be in the back of a car or in a small trailer, not a horsebox.’
‘Well,’ Kelly started to explain, ‘she did say that she had had trouble finding anyone that could bring them and even then whoever this is that’s brought them had never transported pigs before, probably all they had was a horsebox and they didn’t want to mess up their car.’
A hefty, bearded young man bejewelled with piercings opened up the car door and jumped out of the driver’s side. Sidling out of the passenger door was a very heavily pregnant young lady.
He spoke with a thick West Country accent.
‘Alright mate, got some pigs for you.’
‘Yes, great, thank you, have any problems?’ I replied still looking curiously at the size of the horsebox, they had probably been rolling around in there for the entirety of the journey, banging from one side to the other as they inevitably couldn’t have stayed on their small feet.
‘Nah, all fine, bit of a bugger getting them in there in the first place, but once in, no problems at all. First for me transporting pigs.’
‘Yes so I heard, well shall we get them out?’
He looked at me questioningly.
‘No worries, where are they going?’
‘Just down this path, behind the garage and into a small paddock.’ I replied gesturing in the direction.
‘Righto, and what’s your plan for getting them down there?’ he asked. I was slightly taken back, but I figured he was just being meticulous about the plans.
‘Well I thought I would carry them down.’ I stated feeling it was an obvious answer.
‘Carry them? You’re not going to be able to carry them mate.’ He gave me a look that suggested that he thought I was an idiot.
‘Oh, well then I guess we can just let them out and usher them down.’ I suggested.
‘Mate,’ he said, ‘I’ve never transported pigs before, never handled them or dealt with them, but I don’t think you’re going to be able to just shepherd these pigs anywhere.’
‘Well then what do you suggest?’ I asked, getting a little irritated.
‘Have you got a pony halter?’ He questioned.
‘A pony halter?’ I exclaimed. ‘Well yes we do, but I can’t believe we’re going to need that, it would be far too big.’
All this time Kelly was paying little attention to our conversation and instead chatting idly to the fella’s partner, but clearly she was now getting bored.
‘What’s going on Pete? Are we going to get these pigs out? I can get a bucket of food if you like.’ She decided to get involved in the conversation.
‘Can you go and fetch the pony halters and ropes?’ I replied, ‘this chap seems to think we should use them.’
‘What? You’re not going to need those, they’ll be far too big.’ She replied a little exasperatedly.
‘Listen mate,’ the man chimed in, ‘why don’t you get into the horsebox, take a look and see what you reckon?’
‘Good idea,’ I agreed, ‘best show me the way.’
I swear that I perceived a twinkle in his eye and a slight half smile on his lips as he led me to the side of the box where there was a door. He put his hand on the handle and beckoned me towards it, then with one hand on the door and the other hand hovering behind my back as if ready to push me forwards, he opened it slightly.
‘There you go mate, jump on in and take a look.’
He nudged me enough that I stumbled through the opening and into the box then immediately shut the door behind me.
