During the pandemic lockdown, I began spending a lot of time at Indraloka, an animal sanctuary that is home to more than 200 farm animals of all species. Back then, the sanctuary was relocating from way out in the boondocks of rural Northeast Pennsylvania to a 100-acre farm a mere twelve miles from downtown Scranton, where I live. We moved the animals little by slowly and for the first month or so, residents of the main barn included the sheep and goat herds, an alpaca named Sandy, and two large elderly pigs, Duncan and Nugget.
I loved those early days at Indraloka’s new site. Many evenings I was alone with the animals. I would muck stalls and then set up my camera and do yoga poses with the sheep. I’d wash out water bowls, pass out snacks, and then lounge in a haystack cuddled up with Duncan and Nugget. I also gave virtual tours of the sanctuary — Goat to Meetings — to groups of corporate executives, attorneys, tech bros, teachers, extended families, and others who were isolated and trapped indoors while working and socializing remotely.
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On the tours, I told the animals’ stories. Rosie, our little black lamb, was saved by a man who witnessed his neighbor deliberately drive his John Deere tractor over Rosie’s mom, killing her. Sunita, our exotically beautiful ewe who looks like a cross between a deer and a sheep, escaped a factory farm, hiding in the woods. It took humane police and animal welfare volunteers three months to coax her into allowing them to rescue her. Elderly Mira, a sweet, friendly goat, was rescued from a hoarding situation. Her hooves were so overgrown and infected from the filthy barn floors, that she was unable to stand or walk. She maneuvered herself by crawling on her knees and she’d been doing that so long that callouses had developed and she was no longer able to straighten her legs.
Mira’s story, like all the others I told, ended happily. She received the medical treatment and physical therapy she needed and look at her now. She’s thriving!
But Duncan and Nugget — their backstory was different. They came to Indraloka from a loving home. A farmer asked his neighbor, Paula, to help with two newborn piglets after their mom died. The piglets needed around-the-clock care, bottle feedings, and constant observation. Paula was a second-grade teacher and since there is no daycare program for piglets, she brought them to class with her. Duncan and Nugget grew up loving people, especially children.
A few months later, the farmer called to say he’d be dropping by to pick up the pigs. By then, they were too large to go to school. Paula asked what the farmer intended to do with them. He told her they would be slaughtered. Paula called Indraloka and later that evening, Duncan and Nugget arrived at the sanctuary.
On the Goat to Meetings, Duncan and Nugget were the biggest hits, even bigger than the goats and goats were viral on social media back then. If Duncan and Nugget were in the middle of a snooze when I arrived with my iPhone, all I had to say was, “You have visitors. It’s showtime.” Both pigs would lumber to their feet and dutifully gaze into the camera.
“Is he smiling?” I heard that question at least once daily.
Eventually, the Goat to Meetings petered out. The sanctuary moved more animals from the old location to the new one. The horses arrived. Then the birds — chickens, turkeys, peafowl, guinea fowl, ducks, geese, quail.
One day, I showed up to clean, and there in the first quadrant of the main barn were two mini pigs, Chandra and Mazzie.
I lost my mind over the cuteness.
I mean, all pigs are adorable. But mini pigs are next level.
At that time, both Chandra and Mazzie were special needs pigs. Chandra had been found wandering the side of a highway with metal wire and rope embedded around his torso. He was emaciated. Rescued from extreme cruelty and neglect, Mazzie had suffered trauma to his back that left his spine deformed, causing partial paralysis. He was unable to use his hind legs. He was in kidney failure, and it didn’t look good for the tiny black pig. But Mazzie became another miraculous story. With proper medical attention and lots of physical therapy, he was able to walk again.
Both Mazzie and Chandra were understandably cautious around people. They’d both suffered tremendously at the hands of humans. On the first day I met them, at the urging of my cousin Johnny, who’d helped found the new Indraloka location, I gently touched Chandra on his little pot belly. He flopped over for belly rubs.
That was four years ago. I have spent countless hours lying in straw with Chandra, giving him belly rubs. Chandra is my closest friend at the sanctuary. While I love all the animals at Indraloka, my connection to some is deeper than it is to others. And my connection to Chandra is the deepest of all.
Chandra’s trust in me has helped me let go of some of the distrust I have in myself. Chandra is helping me heal from the shame I feel for things I’ve done in the past. Self-forgiveness is hard. I’m mad at myself for the choices I’ve made, for things I’ve said, for things I did and failed to do. On some level, I believe I don’t deserve my own trust. But Chandra trusts me. This mini pig who has been through so much trauma and abuse because of humans and who, wisely, is wary of people, trusts me.
Chandra believes with all his heart he is safe with me. One of the ways Chandra’s trauma manifests to this day is he is terrified of the shovels and rakes we use to clean the barns. When he sees those tools, he screams in fear and runs. I remember the day, caregiver manager Ryan watched me muck Chandra’s stall, with Chandra following me around as I raked and shoveled. Ryan marveled that Chandra did not have a trauma response to my using the tools. Chandra knows rakes and shovels are not dangerous for him when I use them.
Chandra is helping me see that maybe I can trust myself with something that used to be dangerous for me — money. I misused money. I earned it at times without integrity and I spent it often unwisely. This was in the long ago past. But I continue to punish myself in the now for what I did and didn’t do with money.
Through Chandra, I am beginning to see that maybe it’s safe to allow myself a bigger, more prosperous life. Maybe if I rebuild the life I lost, the income I’ve lost, this time I won’t waste it. Maybe I have become the person Chandra believes I am.
Some people go to therapy to develop a deeper understanding of themselves. I go to Indraloka. The beloved animals there are helping me find myself and my way through this hard, messy, beautiful, maddening, lovely life. I am so deeply grateful that Indraloka exists a mere twelve miles from my home.
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