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 Kathy Stevens is the
director of Catskill Animal Sanctuary (CAS) in
New York. After reading just a few
pages of her book, Where the Blind Horse Sings, I
thought, "Wow, here's someone who really understands original
play." When I finished reading Kathy's book I read it a second time
just to be sure I didn't miss anything.
After reading her book, you
can tell that CAS is a remarkable place with an incredibly dedicated
staff, loving animals and an atmosphere that we should all pay attention
to in our world of conflict and confusion.
I look forward to the opportunity to visit CAS and meet Kathy.
Until then I am left wondering (as play often leaves me) if this
type of relationship is possible at a sanctuary for rescued and abused
farm animals, what else is possible in our daily relationships. If Kathy
is right, and "the world is hungry for kindness," then how are we
alleviating that hunger?
Many thanks to Kathy for agreeing to this interview.
DC:
Why do the animals that come to your sanctuary respond so
strongly to your love?
KS: For the same reason that
people do! If I've learned anything at all in the last seven years
(we opened CAS in 2001), it's that animals and humans are so much more
alike than most humans have a chance to realize. Animals are
deeply emotional beings, and when they arrive here, generally physically
starved and psychologically broken, of course they're going to respond
to good food, cozy shelter, warm voices and gentle touch.
Just like abused children,
it takes some longer to trust than others, but as long as we don't rush
them, and all that we're offering is love, well then...it's just a
matter of time.
A lot of people refer to
Catskill Animal Sanctuary as "a sacred place." As soon as you
get out of your car, you feel the love here. It's palpable.
"It's even in the dirt!" a volunteer once said. I really
believe that many of the animals who've been here a long time have
become healers themselves, even if only because they're so happy and
confident and full of themselves and eager to interact that the new,
needy animals see this and understand....
DC:
The love you give to your animal friends every day at Catskill
Animal Sanctuary (CAS) involves risks (for example: getting head butted,
bit, or simply frustrated from the unkind treatment of animals by some
people. How much of this is
a challenge and how do you meet that daily challenge?
KS: There's not a lot of
physical risk. Our philosophy is simply to allow each animal to heal in
his own way, on his own terms, and at his own pace. So if an animal is
threatened by physical closeness, we'll give him his space. At most what
we'll do is sit quietly in the stall with him, conveying through our
patience--and the fact that we've gotten down on the ground, making
ourselves physically vulnerable--that we're certainly not a threat.
Animals understand this.
Regarding the abuse
inflicted on animals, one simply can't focus on it. We can't hold
anger within ourselves. If we do, we're not going to do the animals any
good. I try to let anger move through me really quickly, and then
focus both on the extraordinary people who reach out to help, and,
naturally, on these animals. Participating in their healing is a
wonderful way to stay grounded in what's positive.
DC: Touches and kisses
seem as much a part of the medical regimen at CAS as pills and proper
nutrition. Can you talk
about that?
There's not a lot to say
about this. I simply think it's important, I love doing it, I see how
the animals respond! For some--perhaps most--touch is too much in the
beginning, and we give those animals the room they need to trust. But
they quickly come around, and soon not only enjoy soaking up
touch...many touch us as well--the goats nestle their heads into our
thighs, the cows lick our faces, the horses nuzzle our cheeks...it's
lovely.
DC:
What is the most important lesson you have learned from the
animals you care for at CAS?
KS: Oh this is an easy one!!
As I write in the epilogue of my book, in ways that matter, we're all
the same. Seven years ago, I certainly would not have expected that a
dying cow would lick my face over and over until he took his last
breath, or that a lonely former cockfighting rooster would DEMAND to get
in bed with me, or that a pig would come to me for consolation after a
goat butted her, or that a once violent ram would turn guardian of the
entire farm.
This stuff happens
routinely. When we see it, if forces us to understand that they're so
much more like us than the world knows. And that knowledge, of course,
makes what we do to them all the more horrific. If a chicken is
"just a chicken," for example, then maybe we don't care that
every year in the
U.S.
alone, nine billion suffer the kind of cruelty and horrific death that
most of us wouldn't wish upon a diabolically evil human being. But if
they're intelligent, emotional animals, then perhaps we might begin
rethinking our complicity in their suffering.
DC: In
your book you write that "the world is hungry for kindness." Do you
believe that this hunger can ever be satisfied in our time?
Is there one act of daily kindness you would recommend to every
person reading this interview to alleviate that hunger in our world?
KS: I certainly think that
on an individual level we can each alleviate that hunger. Reach out.
Look a stranger in the eye. Volunteer for a charity whose mission
speaks to you. Tell your partner, every day, that you're happy she/he is
in
your life--and if you aren't, then GET OUT! Do the same with your
children, your animals, your friends. Shrink your footprint
on our desperately fragile planet--how hungry Earth is for a little
kindness! If you really want to have an impact, stop eating animals.
Dare to touch, dare to smile, dare to live beyond your own narrow world.
You've only got one shot at life: good LORD, make it count!
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