"Peace be to this farm and to all who dwell in it. Peace be to them that enter and to them that depart." — 16th century blessing at the front gate of Pigs Peace Sanctuary The fog has not yet lifted when the sounds of contented grunts and snorts are heard on a chilly morning. Here the donated produce from Madison Market Co-op is being distributed. Apples, lettuce, and carrots are providing a happy feast for pigs. Merlin, an enormous pig, cracks open a watermelon and trots off swiftly with a substantial piece in his mouth to enjoy in a corner by himself. Deep in the heart of Stanwood, Washington farm country, Pigs Peace is not the old family farm. This sanctuary is a safe haven of love for pot-bellied pigs and their animal friends. Judy Woods began this magical refuge about eight years ago. Along with her twenty-year-old son Nathan, Judy has rescued and rehabilitated hundreds of pigs. By and by, a whole bunch of other animals needed help too. The current residents, all rescued and fixed, are: 75 pigs, twenty feral cats, six dogs, two llamas, assorted hens and roosters, three ponies, a horse, and Tom the turkey. You could hardly guess it by looking at her fresh country looks, but Judy grew up in Seattle. She became educated about farm animals by hard, firsthand experience when she acquired and fell in love with a secondhand piglet named Fern. Later, the sanctuary began when she learned that the pot-bellied pig fad had a fallout. When the cute piglets became adults, the impulse purchases often became unwanted. The wayward pets were not accepted into animal shelters because they were considered livestock and therefore fell through the cracks. All too often, a family pet was sent to slaughter — or even worse, was abandoned, beaten, thrown from a car, or locked up. There was no one else to offer refuge and compassion to these victims, so Judy stepped in. The first pig rescued from animal control was caught with a "snout snared" cable twine squeezing his nose — the same harsh treatment pigs commonly receive in the auction yard. Since animal control euthanizes pigs quickly (they are not considered pets), Judy was lucky to save this one, who had been found wandering city streets. Judy still works as a nurse on the night shift so she can do her chores during the day. Judy and Nathan are not recluses; they give tours and entertain unique work parties. There is nothing like having kids, dogs, pigs, and chickens running around while everyone pitches in and has a blast. Sort of like an old fashioned barn raising — projects get done in no time. Having five people paint a barn wall takes only twenty minutes instead of almost two hours. When people of like minds work together, it’s a lot of fun. The work is endless but the payback is priceless — it’s in the twinkle in an eye, the wag of a tail, or someone snuggling to be close. Barrie Lynn, a visitor to the sanctuary, recounts her tour: "Judy and I were standing in the yard by the barn and she started calling ‘come here’ in a really sweet voice, kind of like when I call my darling cats. That’s when it happened. A huge pink pig, so big I almost fainted, started running right towards us. I turned to run away, and then I realized this giant being was smiling and almost laughing with joy. We both started hugging and kissing him and he continued to smile and laugh. I never saw pigs act like this; perhaps I never saw a pig that wasn’t threatened with death. He taught me so much. How could I eat a ham sandwich made from this loving animal? Education happens in many ways and here was my teacher. Visiting Pigs Peace changed me in every possible manner and was a bigger event in my life than I could have ever dreamt." That giant pink pig was Oscar. On my visit, I too encountered him. Everyone was in the house, and I went out to my car alone. As I reached in the car door to get some food, Oscar was suddenly there. Oscar’s head and half of his eight-hundred-pound body was in my car poking around. I was pinned to the inside of the door! At first, I was slightly alarmed, but then I began to relax against his clean and massive body as he drooled on the NY Times in the front seat. He felt kind of cuddly, like an enormous dog. I almost felt hypnotized. Eventually, I had to honk the horn for Nathan to come and nudge Oscar out, since he wouldn’t budge for me. Even though I had been to the sanctuary several times before, this episode with Oscar felt like my initiation into a more intimate friendship with the pigs. Like relating to anyone for the first time, it can take a while to understand a species that one has no experience with. It is thrilling when your understanding clicks. Like Oscar, many of the residents of Pigs Peace have big personalities. Some are good house pigs, but others get into cupboards. Some are so intelligent they will create havoc, others are couch potatoes who just like to lie around. Many of the pot-bellied pigs were former house pets, like George. One day, George was in the kitchen watching Nathan make a sandwich with ingredients from the refrigerator. Unfortunately, whenever George gets in the house, he now makes a beeline for the fridge, opens the door, pulls open the vegetable bin, and drags out the lettuce. House privileges are sadly over for George. Thankfully, only Oscar has learned to open the complicated gate leading to the courtyard around the house. The other pigs line up behind him to study his expertise, and once naughty Oscar opens the gate, they follow him out into the courtyard, where they are not generally allowed. Part of the fun around the sanctuary is watching the friendships that form among the pigs. They often hang out in groups of three. Spud, Elissa, and Daisy often sleep right next to each other in the barn. From a distance, you might just notice a big pile of hay. As you get closer, out pop three porcine heads, checking you out and looking nothing short of fetching. But not all the pigs get along so well. Henry and Chloe were a tight pig couple. Then they had a spat and didn’t want anything to do with each other any more. They refused to sleep in the same barn. Chloe started losing weight, even though there was nothing wrong with her. After six months, they reconciled; with domestic squabbles now over, Chloe has gained back the weight. Although most species bond with their own kind, some relationships at the Sanctuary cross species barriers. The miniature collie, Brian, has found his best friend in a pig named Scooter. Brian was tied to a tree for three years before he came to Pigs Peace. Peter, the twelve-pound Pomeranian dog, will stand up against any eight-hundred-pound pig, and they respect him. Esther the pony and Chester the former factory farm pig are tight buddies. Esther will pretend not to notice Chester as he sneaks up behind her. She feigns surprise, and then the pig and pony show begins as they chase each other around playing "you can’t catch me" with alternative squeals and neighs. Judy’s blue eyes flash as she tells riveting stories of each animal’s rescue. "You can’t just say you love them, and do nothing," she explains. At times, Judy has visited auctions to rescue animals who would otherwise be sold for meat. It was in Eastern Washington that she purchased the Morgan/Quarterhorse mix she named "Pilgrim" — he was slaughterhouse bound for human consumption in either Japan or France. Pilgrim was very shy but sought Judy out as she gave treats to the sixty other, mostly-older horses destined to be turned into horsemeat. A former rodeo horse with spur scars, Pilgrim didn’t even know what a treat was. The going rate for horsemeat was high that week because the mad cow disease story had just broken, and animals other than cattle were more expensive than usual. Judy really stretched her budget to buy him. Pilgrim is a handsome and imposing horse with a bold white strip marking his head. However, with rodeo memories still lingering, he is unsure of himself and becomes agitated if approached the wrong way. Judy also rescued a sweet pony named Annie from the auction block. An unknown assailant had harmed her by poking out one eye and breaking her leg. The number of animals who are brutalized is many times greater than the number of abused children, spouses, and elders put together. There is little legal recourse since the act must be witnessed for prosecution to occur. Nathan helped save hundreds of chickens abandoned last year by the notorious Amerson "factory" Farms (since shut down). Deprived of light, heat, and food, they wasted away for weeks waiting to die until someone finally called a humane group. Because the need was so great, Judy and Nathan arranged for cages and a truck to emancipate four hundred chickens from a football-field-sized building. Nathan trudged in his high top boots through six-inch-deep liquefied manure to pull out the pathetic, barely living victims huddled in rusting wire crates. The rest of the thousands of chickens were already dead. Rats ran everywhere. The fragile chickens were terrified. All had their beaks sheered off, and their combs were so grotesquely swollen that they covered the chickens’ faces. Some could not stand. The Poultry Tribune wrote: "We have discovered chickens literally grown fast to their cages … the flesh of their toes grew completely around the wire." No matter what their condition, any chickens still alive were taken back to Pigs Peace, where they received refuge and rehabilitation. Many of them were later placed in good homes. These were factory hens, who, even if "healthy," didn’t know how to drink from a dish (they had water bottles), didn’t know to peck the ground for food (they had stood on wire slats), never stretched their wings to groom (there wasn’t room for this at six in a tiny cage), and didn’t know they could go inside at night (to the barn that was their new home at Pigs Peace). Miraculously, the resident chickens seem to "teach" the new arrivals what to do, and in time the new gals caught on. According to the Guinness Book of World Records, the longest dog incarceration belongs to Word, the little black and white Lhasa Apso who once "lived" at Seattle Animal Shelter. He was present when his sister nipped at a woman (not even breaking the skin) and was considered an accomplice — guilty just for being there. Word’s former owner contested his classification as a vicious dog (he was due to be destroyed), and the litigation went on for eight years. Finally, a negotiation was reached, allowing Word to be released to Pigs Peace, away from the general public (you can’t see him if you visit). At the animal shelter, Word was severely depressed. Today twelve-year-old Word runs, jumps, and barks with exuberance. He has a certain gleam in his eye, like someone who came from the mean streets and now knows the good life. Factory farms are particularly brutal on pigs. Last year, Judy bravely visited one in Eastern Washington. She had to enter the biosecure environment through three locked doors and change all her clothes to tour the 1,000-pig farm. The foreman, knowing about her love for pigs, graciously allowed her in. She tried to touch the pigs, but they cringed because they associate human contact with pain. Most of them had looks of "learned helplessness" as they stared off blankly in their metal cages with perforated floors. The nursing females were in sow crates and were not allowed to turn around. Many countries in Europe have outlawed factory farms, and most do not allow sow crates. Judy was able to buy a few pigs; they now blissfully reside at Pigs Peace. She paid for them on the scale at 26 cents a pound, the going rate for sausage that day. Last summer, Judy got a frantic call from Loma Linda medical research facility. Three pigs had completed their experiments and needed a place to go. A kind researcher had bonded to these pigs and was desperate to get them a home. Usually, they are killed when the research is over. Pigs are commonly used as research animals because their hearts and lungs are similar to human organs. No other sanctuary was willing or equipped to take them, so Pigs Peace accepted them. When they arrived, they were hesitant to come out of the trailer. They didn’t know how to eat real food, had never seen trees or pigs in freedom, touched grass, or been outside the bleak, stark hospital environment. These pigs were even more divorced from normal behavior than the factory farmed ones. But as they grew accustomed to their new home, they began running and jumping gleefully. The day the pigs arrived, a good friend of the sanctuary died. Mitzi Leibst dedicated her life to animal advocacy and fought against the use of animals in research. Two of the three pigs were placed in homes, and the one who stayed was named in her honor. Now, many months later, Mitzi will come running when called. But she still exhibits classic trauma behavior, being affectionate one minute, then shutting down with a look of terror on her face the next. At the facility, she had more contact with people than factory farm pigs do. Sometimes, they treated her kindly, petting her and giving her treats. The next minute she would be hauled off for who-knows-what experiment. Perhaps in time and with love, Mitzi will forget her past and fully embrace her brighter future at Pigs Peace Sanctuary. Pig’s Peace Sanctuary gives tours to the public and school groups by appointment only. However, the animals are there to be looked after and made friends with, not just looked at. Volunteers are always welcome and highly appreciated. All donations go to help rescue and provide a safe home for unwanted, abused, or neglected animals. You can even sponsor a pig. For further information, please go to: <www.pigspeace.org>. To request a free newsletter, write to Pigs Peace at P.O. Box 295, Stanwood, WA, 98292, or email your address through the website. |