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I have learned many things from working with pigs; they are indeed among the smartest animals around and they are indeed among the most sensitive. As a result, when pigs become frightened or scared they will panic and quickly whip themselves up into a feverish frenzy.
While September 7th 2013 stands as an important date on our political landscape with Australians going to the polls to determine which party will govern our fair country, many do not realise that we are already voting, each and every day of our lives.
“Tiny, she’s shiny. She looks so neat above her feet we call her Tiny shiny.” That was the little rhyme my parents had made up for a sweet little grey and white tabby cat that held centre stage in my earliest years.
When I was in grade one my teacher’s name was Miss Fit, no that’s not a joke. In fact it took me some years to realise the irony despite my dad always interjecting with the words ‘is she?’ whenever I mentioned her name.
The year was 1975 and the scene was the Victorian Football League Grand Final between Hawthorn and North Melbourne.
If you had asked me a little over ten years ago where I would be today, I strongly doubt I would have said, ‘Rescuing and caring for farm animals and spreading a message of kindness with the world.’
Just ten short years ago something happened in my life, something that would change everything. That something was not so much a some thing as it was a some one. That someone was a gentle pig I came to love and adore and whom I named Edgar Alan Pig.
With Australia recently ‘celebrating’ International Dairy week, the largest international dairy cattle sale and show in the southern hemisphere, many could be forgiven for thinking the dairy industry a benign and modest trade, simply responsible for passing on the ‘product’ from its ever-obliging and happy cows.
Our recent rescue of 752 battery hens is now one month on and when watching these girls at dusk, I cannot help but be taken back to my nautical days of navigating the ‘treacherous’ waters of the children’s beach at Long Jetty in NSW.
In 2003, a creature came into my life and he tugged both on my heart strings and on his lead like no other.
Behind Humphrey’s sad sunken old eyes lies a gentle goat, perhaps even a friendly goat if given half the chance.
He loved going for walks on a lead, answered to his name and loved belly rubs. He would patiently listen to me for hours on end, never interrupting save the gentle rub of his nose against my leg. He was my muse, my confidant, my best friend.
