D e s e r t E x p o s u r e
December 2009
Donkey Rescue
Page: 2And that ain't hay. Lucy's Pasture is operated entirely out of pocket and by donation. Two vets and a farrier visit on a regular basis, and all of the animals are well tended to medically — another expense that the Kappings handle.
They do receive some help from local grocery stores that sell to them at bulk. But it doesn't allow for much.
Mary laments, "If we can't afford them, then we can't keep them."
Adoptions are possible, although infrequent. Mary says that a lot of her informal adoption policy is intuitive, and she asks for a $250 donation. "That way, I will also know if they can actually afford to adopt an animal."
The next stop is an area where the smaller animals — mostly goats — are housed. Several of the 11 friendly dogs vie for attention in the large fenced yard nearby; some of the dogs are also available for adoption, while others are permanent residents.
But first, we try to meet Petunia, the Pig.
Comfortably napping in her own quarters, Petunia fulfills the imagined stereotype of a pig. Large, especially for a potbelly pig, Petunia is not about to get up to invite us in, so she remains splayed out in the clean hay of her shed.
"She was dumped off here and is not for adoption," Mary says. "I like to make her spaghetti."
Nearby are a rooster and the chickens, which net me a bonus — a box of ultra-fresh eggs to take home. There are 12 chickens, and none will ever end up as chicken fingers. Says Mary, "One of them was raised in Candice's bathtub for a while, and one of the 'girls' turned out to be a rooster."
Next are the goats, which outnumber everything else. One is perched on top of one of the sheds, giving us the eye, while some of the younger goats come up for a bit of attention, which they hope will involve food. Upon seeing that I don't have anything in my hands other than my notebook and pen, one young nanny decides to try to have my writing tools for lunch. "And she would eat them both," Mary says matter of factly, as I wrestle with the goat that was so cute a moment earlier.
More vigorous combat is taking place among the geese, one of which is 16 years old and had to be given up by her previous owner, an elderly lady who fell and broke her hip. "She couldn't get around very well after that, so we took it in," says Mary.
One duck in the small flock, which is a mix of ducks and geese, has an injured leg, and is kept in a small pen and shelter by itself. "As soon as they figured out that it was hurt, the others tried to kill it," Candice shares. Survival of the fittest, indeed.
Spike, another duck, so named for the Mohawk haircut-type feathers on top of his head he has always had, is being chased by a another duck, for reasons that only the ducks know.
Some of the goats, with their horizontal-pupil eyes, keep hanging around hoping for a tidbit, and several of them starting butting each other with their small horns. Nannies and billy goats both have horns. The one that tried to eat my notebook still has his eye on it, probably wishing he had a little mayo to make it go down smoother.
All of a sudden, there is a chorus of animal sounds — quacking, squawking, baa-ing and honking. Some of the dogs join in half-heartedly, and Reno comes by to see what the commotion is about. Nothing really, or at least nothing that is visible to humans. The Kappings all have noted sometime during this visit that each of their charges has his, hers or its own personality.
We talk some more after deciding to skip an adventure that may or may not allow us to visit with some of the six barn cats on the Kapping property.
"The day starts at 6:30 or when the light is up. We clean all of the pens every morning, and Bob is here every day, aren't you Bob?" Mary says as she turns to talk to him over her shoulder.
"Almost every day," Reno's human replies.
"There is still a lot to do, I want to build two new smaller barns and finish the other two, along with the new shelters," Mary says.
She confides, "I'd rather be with animals since they can't help themselves. Now that the [two-legged] kids are grown, I can really be a 'nut,' and I don't know what I'd do without it now. It's just kind of evolved, and it has all of these personalities."
While we look at Wendell one more time, as he tugs on his mom's teats, Mary makes sure Winn is within earshot, then adds, "I'd sell my husband just to get enough money to feed the donkeys."
Lucy's Pasture could use your help. You can donate online at www.lucyspasture.com or mail your tax-deductible donation to: 4745 Franklin Rd SE, Deming, NM 88030. Fun T-shirts are also available for sale, and there is also a flea market at the ranch the first weekend of each month. Call for details, 546-8399.
You are also welcome to visit, but please call first. Group visits from young and old are also encouraged.