The next chapter
I walked through the gate of PSGR's original farm, looking for something to invest my time and heart in. I had just walked away from a 10+ year career in event planning and left a long-term relationship that in every way felt like going through a messy divorce. I didn't know what I needed or wanted at that time in my life. But I found it inside those gates.
I quickly became the volunteer that was there all the time. Driving over an hour each way from Seattle to spend as much time as I could at the rescue helping in every aspect. It took me years to be ready to go to the slaughterhouse with Barbara to save goats. I used to wait back at the rescue to help with intake, too scared to go. I didn't think my heart could handle it. But when I finally did go, I learned just how strong I could be when I needed to.
I started developing relationships on behalf of the rescue to help us save lives. I remember, like it was yesterday, filling my Prius with over a dozen newborn babies from a dairy I found on Craigslist. Making the 3-hour drive with Nicky and Nitro in a tote behind me, chewing on my hair, and cementing a place in my heart and the future of PSGR.
My event planning background went to work, and the rescue hosted its first event. I took over posting on social media and started our Instagram account. I had never done social media, but I loved telling the stories of our rescues.
Our social media following grew. Our support grew. We partnered with Rebuen's Brews in Seattle for the original "Baby Goats and Brews" event that caught the attention of tens of thousands of people. The rescue was growing far beyond anything we could have imagined.
Barbara bought a second farm. I left my Seattle apartment to rent the house at the second farm and manage, as a volunteer, what was known as “Baby Goat Central”. What started as Nicky & Nitro and a dozen other goats, quickly became 70-80 goats at any given time. I still worked full time so I could pay my bills and rent the house. I essentially paid to live at and manage the farm for over 8 years. I know it sounds crazy, but to me, living there and running that farm was the most fulfilling thing I had ever done.
Barbara retired from her corporate job, and we were rescuing and adopting out at a higher volume than we ever had before. Then came the phone call none of us saw coming.
I have a few very distinct memories of the week that Barbara was hospitalized before her passing but much of it is a blur. I do remember those who stood beside me and PSGR and supported us, unwaveringly, through everything we were dealing with. Those people are still a part of PSGR today. I also remember those who made an incredibly difficult time, only that much harder. I felt a weight lifted as we moved on from that time and that space just over a year later.
We sold both farms to purchase our new farm. The rescue was entering a new era. One that has taken me some time to find my way in. As rescuers, I think we all must arrive at a place, in our own time, in our own way, where we make peace with not trying to do it all, be it all and save them all. If you don’t, this life will drown you. I have been learning how not to drown.
A lot has changed in 25 years but so many things haven’t. PSGR was built on a love of goats. On giving a second chance to pet goats who have ended up on the front lines of slaughter. On taking in newborns to spare them from ever facing that fate. On saying yes to special needs and medical cases to give those animals the only chance they have and to learn and to help advance goat health knowledge. It was built on developing relationships with people, in all aspects of the goat world, so that we can save the lives of those most at risk.
I don’t know what all will fill the pages of the next chapter of PSGR, but I do know that what has been on every page the past 25 years will be there, saving and changing the lives of as many goats as we can.
Holding Peach, one of the goats we rescued on my first trip with Barbara to save goats from the slaughterhouse
