It was early one February morning when I received a text from Karen, the founder of Kindred Spirits Care farm, a nonprofit farmed animal sanctuary and rescue located on multiple properties throughout Los Angeles county. A woman in a facebook group had reached out about a tiny newborn lamb, born just two nights ago. The pint-sized infant was born on a horse boarding property, where the property owner used one pasture to raise his own sheep and goats for slaughter. A “backyard butcher” is what the woman called him, claiming that he didn’t provide quality care for his herd and didn’t know much about the behavior and needs of the animals he was raising.
One heavily pregnant ewe who should have been kept in a deeply bedded stall as she went into labor to protect her fragile baby had given birth in the freezing morning on the frosty, barren dirt of the pasture she lived on, and her baby, in shock from the biting cold, was unable to stand up and nurse. “It’s natural selection,” the backyard butcher had shrugged when she asked about the bleating, hungry baby and his mother, who despite how hard she tried could not get her shivering baby to stand. This lamb was no good to him anyway; he was abnormally small and frail, thus he served no purpose.
He told the woman, who was distracted from caring for her horse out of concern for the lamb’s wellbeing, that the coyotes would pick him off tonight. She was no expert in lamb care, but she couldn’t help wrapping the baby up in warm blankets and bringing him home to bottle feed overnight. After just two nights his wobbly, frail legs were stronger, proving that there was nothing wrong with this lamb besides his rough early start. Now this caring individual was faced with two options: return the lamb to his mother, only to risk him being left to die should his legs give out again and face eventual slaughter should he survive, or make the unfortunate decision to keep him from his mother and seek placement with a knowledgeable sanctuary that could provide him with the nourishment and medical attention he needed. She chose the latter.
Kindred Spirits happily agreed to take the lamb, and only needed transport. I called my friend Mary, who has been on dozens of rescues with me, and picked her up before the end of our phone call.
When we arrived at the boarding facility, the woman who had saved our little lamb’s life made it clear the property owner didn’t like people snooping around his animals- I rolled down my window, she handed me a warm bundle wrapped in blankets, I passed it to Mary in the passenger’s seat, and we were off.
Because I get to work with baby animals so often, I often find myself desensitized to cuteness; sometimes it feels like I have built up a tolerance to it, and am so purely concerned with caring for the animal at hand that I forget to consider how “cute” they are.
But when Mary unwrapped the mass of warm blankets on her lap, we both squealed in the pitch that children do when they see kittens and puppies for the first time. Jasper (the name the lamb was later given) only weighed a few pounds, and could easily be held with one hand- his hair (Jasper is a hair sheep, which have hair instead of wool, are often mistaken for goats, and are much smaller than most other breeds of sheep) was fuzzy and soft to the touch, his eyes were deep blue and cartoon-like in size, and he wore splatters of red freckles all over his face. His tiny, squishy pink nose was shaped like a perfect heart, and his gangly long legs were twice the height of his body. His meek “baa” was more like a whisper, and his baby breath smelled like warm milk.
He was without a doubt the most adorable thing either of us had ever seen.
Kindred Spirits owns multiple properties, and one of their most ambitious goals is to transform schools previously involved with the 4H and Future Farmers of America programs, institutions which teach grossly outdated animal welfare and care models and offer children the opportunity to raise animals for auction and slaughter. The property Jasper was going to was a farm adjacent to a high school, used for raising animals for slaughter for decades. With Kindred Spirits having stepped in, the small property became a haven for a handful of rescued animals, and rather than preparing animals for slaughter, teenagers interested in a career with animals could learn to provide quality care for them, many of whom had special needs or medical issues. Those interested in agriculture could grow fresh veggies and produce for their families in the expansive garden that Kindred Spirits had created.
Students interested in veterinary careers rejoiced in this change, because unlike 4H and FFA programs, Kindred Spirits provides individualized veterinary care tailored to each animal’s unique needs. It was truly a win-win situation. Tiny veal crates with uncomfortable slatted floors were destroyed to make room for garden space, and a large shed which had once served as a slaughterhouse for birds and rabbits had been converted into an infirmary for sick or baby animals. Jasper was the first animal to set foot in the shed after its conversion. We picked two girls from the animal care class to come learn how to bottle feed, and carried baby Jasper inside.
There were still blood stains on the floor of this place from the throats of fully conscious birds and rabbits which had been slit by students in years past, but now here we were with a newborn lamb, full of life and vitality, teaching two students how to nurture, love and care for an animal.The symbolism of it all was incredible. They beamed ear to ear when their turn
came to take the bottle, and they were so gentle with him as they helped him fill his belly with warm milk. What a better way to honor the lives of the animals who died here, I thought, than to ensure the survival of a precious rescued infant? And what better learning opportunity for kids interested in careers with animals than to watch a lamb grow, only to know that their hard work and dedication will live on for the 10-15+ year complete lifespan of an animal they helped raise?
In that moment Jasper was a symbol of change, a beacon of progress in a world inevitably bound to become kinder, gentler, more loving, inclusive and considerate. He may not have known it, but he would become a teacher to countless individuals, an ambassador for a species far too often overlooked and forgotten in the animal welfare world.
The man who left him to die in the cold may not have seen any value in Jasper, but we saw a value that was priceless: the ability to impact the next generation of animal caretakers and advocates simply by being himself.
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