My cell phone rang and as I looked at the name on the screen, I braced myself. JUDY.  Judy was a friend, a fellow animal lover and a rescuer.  When she called me, it was usually a request for help and it generally included some element of animal rescue drama that put me outside of my comfort zone.  In the years since we met, I assisted her with many horse rescues and fostered a feral dog about ready to have puppies.  I was involved with a number of her risky ‘missions’ that involved animal neglect or out an out abuse.  Judy rarely called unless it was a desperate plea for help on behalf of an animal. Despite my hesitations, I found it nearly impossible to say no when she asked.

I made myself wait to pick up the call until I imagined the word NO, blinking in neon somewhere behind my forehead.

This time she started the conversation with a story, not a request for help.

“You have to come see my latest rescue.  It is a pig.  He’s adorable. I heard about him and drove 3 hours down off the mountain to purchase him.  The owner was planning to have him put down.”

Judy had talked about getting a pig for years, she was so excited that I couldn’t get a word in. I sat down with my coffee at the kitchen table and listened to her tell me about this adorable pig. The story came out like a long run on sentence.

“She was a pig breeder, breeding those little tea cup pigs and she was planning to keep him to be a “stud” pig because of his coloring.  Wait till you see him, he is pink and white and black.

Anyway, the breeder took him away from mama pig and kept him separate from the others and bottle fed him in a cage. Poor thing, he was all alone with no mama and no holding.  Then something happened and his back legs got all crossed. The breeder got worried that the leg issue might be hereditary, so as soon as he was able to eat, she put him in the pen with some other pigs. Big pigs.  So, there he was, legs crossed, less than half the size of every other pig, fending for himself. When I got down there he was covered in bite marks, his butt backed in the corner so he could defend himself.”

“That is awful!” I managed to squeeze in while she took a breath and sip of whatever she was drinking.

“Poor thing, he was so tormented, I could barely touch him. You know those little pigs are supposed to be handled, bottle fed and treated like a baby. That is how they are turned into pets.  He didn’t have any of that, so first I had to win his trust with food.  And slowly, I have been getting him to the stage that he lets me hold him, and bathe him. Lee, he is just like a baby now.  I took him to a chiropractor in town to see about his legs and he fixed him.  No more crossed legs!  All his bite marks are healed and he has hair, he didn’t have any when I first got him.  And the sounds he makes, I swear he coos when you rock him. And he is already litter trained.”

I was already in love with the little guy and I realized I didn’t know his name.

“What is his name?” I asked.

“Mr. Pickles” she answered.  “Everybody thinks it is Piggles … but it is Pickles like the things you eat!” she laughed.

“How big is he?” I asked trying to picture him.

“Only 10 pounds”

I tried to imagine a 10 pound pig only 2 pounds heavier than Chi Chi our chihuahua.

“I am still trying to get him trained to walk on a leash.  Lee, I am spending 2 hours a day on this pig.  He really needs a lot of TLC.” Pleading start to creep into her voice.

“How jealous is Jim?” I was half joking. Jim was her husband and worshiped her. He was in construction and I pictured that he was already remodeling their house to include the perfect place for Mr. Pickles.

“It is killing Jim. I have never seen a grown man so jealous in my life! We had a huge argument about it last night…” she paused. She sounded mad and a bit scared.

I didn’t know quite what to say. All I could think of was the parade of rescued dogs and cats that she had fostered in the few years since we met and how patient Al had seemed about it all.

“This morning he gave me an ultimatum, it is either him or the pig!?!” Her words were wrapped in sad desperation.

I was stunned.

“I am calling to see if you will take Mr. Pickles.”  Now she was crying.

My hard and fast NO, became ‘Yes, of course.’

And that is how Apple Hill Farm, became the next home of Mr. Pickles, the pig.

This story, is Part One of Three, and will be continued in the next blog post.

The post A Pig Rescue Story appeared first on Apple Hill Farm NC.

Mr. Pickles arrives at Apple  Hill Farm.

Judy brought Mr. Pickles to the farm, with a crate, toys, blankets and a wardrobe of sweaters.  She sat in a chair in the store with Mr. Pickles in her lap and a cup coffee on the desk next. We peppered her with questions to make sure we knew everything to make his transition as smooth as possible.  And then there was silence between all of us as Judy worked up the nerve to say goodbye.  Tears were shed and promises made to come back and visit, before she got back into her car to leave.  And with zero pig experience and an hour of training, we entered the world of pig rescue. 

Mr. Pickles transitioned  well, accepting us quickly, a testament to all of Judy’s hard work and time. For the first few months, he went home with a team member every night both for warmth and companionship.  It was the best way we knew to keep the momentum in healing his past trauma and build on his acceptance of humans.  Having rescued many other animals, we were confident that for him, love was the key.

The breeding of tiny pigs is an inexact science, some pigs end up staying small but many end up 100 pounds or larger.  A strict limited diet is key, to keep them from growing beyond their leg capacity, while genetics decide the ultimate outcome. Our goal was for Mr. Pickles to be a ‘pet pig’, able to live inside and walk on a leash, knowing full well that we might end up with a ‘barn pig’.  However it ended up, we had the space and we knew he would be well loved.

Lessons in Halter Training a Pig.

On warm winter days,  we continued to work on his halter training, closing the barn doors, and using food, the best motivator for a pig.  He would go anywhere in the barn for a piece of carrot or a cheerio, his little hoofs making a clip, clip, clip noise on the concrete floor and his tail wagging. We set up an empty stall for him to explore with an old raised sand box filled with dirt for rooting around with his nose.  He picked a corner for his liter box and spent long hours snuffling around for pieces of hidden food or napping.  At night we brought him inside to my office to his crate and blankets.

As spring rolled around, confident in our pig training and taming abilities, we looked forward to expanding to leash walks outside the barn. Not for long though.  A walk outside with Mr. Pickles was a one way street to wherever HE wanted to go, usually a place that had food — grass, the scattered grain outside the chicken coop or the weeds in the soft soil of the garden. Any attempt to change his direction was met with loud, shrieking pig noises that brought the horses charging at the fence to see what was happening. Treats that we had used in the barn were useless in this outside world. Eventually we sectioned  off  a part of the garden, where he could just be a pig for limited time periods as a way to  successfully walk him on leash to a source of food.  Then we tried every training trick to walk him back to the barn.  Most walks dissolved into full blown pig tantrums and we ended up carrying him back to the barn kicking and screaming, literally.

Learning to Listen. 

Finally, we surrendered our ‘pet pig’ plan and Mr Pickles became a ‘barn pig’. During the day he stayed in his stall where he was happiest.  He had continued to grow in weight, size and at 20 pounds outgrew his crate or any desire to come inside at night, so we let him sleep out in the barn. He still loved attention, though. When I came out to give carrots to the horses every night, I wrapped Mr. Pickles in his blanket and picked him up. I stood in his stall, rocking back and forth while I sang lullabies. Eventually, he stopped cooing and became restless. Then I laid him down on his bed.

As fall approached, during the day he ‘talked’ excitedly to anyone who came near, loved back scratches and rolled over for a belly rub. He wagged his tail often signaling that he was one happy pig. At night though, he didn’t want to be rocked any more and he was only willing to be held for a short period of time. It was like he had a love tank and we had somehow filled it. A bittersweet moment, as we shifted our interaction to meet his need. When I came out at night, I greeted him singing “his” song, to the tune of Rubber Ducky, “Mr. Pickles you’re the one, you make tuck in lots of fun. Mr. Pickles I am awfully fond of you!”  And tucked him in with a piece of carrot and a kiss, just like the horses.

It wasn’t the outcome we hoped for, but we had transitioned Mr. Pickles through a new home and out of the trauma of his first home. Animal rescue is a mixture of meeting physical needs, providing love and listening to the needs of the animal. And in that way, Mr. Pickles was a whole pig, no longer in active ‘pig rescue’ and ready to move on to finding his purpose here on Apple Hill Farm.

This is Part Two of a three part series. If you missed Part One, click here to go back and read how Mr. Pickles came to Apple Hill Farm.https://applehillfarmnc.com/pig-rescue-p1/

The post Mr. Pickles gets rescued appeared first on Apple Hill Farm NC.

Spring has come to the mountains and one after another the plants have bloomed.  The crocus started early, followed by daffodils, soon after that were the apple trees and this week the rhododendron have taken front stage.  Yellow azaleas are just beginning to show while the lilacs prepare to bloom. After a long slow winter, spring seems too fast.  I want each bloom to stay longer.

For us at the farm is also the time of mothering.  We have 2-week old chicks peeping in the barn. Already their feathers are starting to come in, creating new designs and colors.  Sugie, an angora goat, gave birth earlier this week to a gorgeous grey and white male, Nugget.  This is her last, as she’s at the age where it is kindest to let her retire.  For the first time, she needed help during the birth. For a few days we helped give Nugget a strong start by milking her and bottle feeding him.  He is now nursing from Sugie all on his own.  Boy, are we grateful!

Meanwhile, we are anxiously checking and waiting on our other pregnant goats (Lucy, Wendy, and Gretel) to give birth.  All three are young and experienced Nannies.  And if that is not enough to send us all into a fit of baby goat bliss, Bonnie, our Great Pyrenees,  is due with puppies in the next week.  There is nothing cuter than fluffy white puppies.

It is an honor and continued source amazement to be a part of the birth of animals. It never ceases to take my breath away.  Life creating new life in its own time and way.  Our newly hatched eggs took only 21 days to incubate, Bonnie will be pregnant for just 8 weeks before she gives birth and the goats gestate for 5 months before their kids are born.

In the midst of this season, I am very aware of time.  As the waiting for labor stretches the minutes long, the parade of blooms speed up the days and in the moments of witnessing birth, time stands still.  Life is full of wonder.

Wishing you a happy spring and Mother’s Day, 
Lee Rankin
Writer, founder of Apple Hill Farm, & unapologetic entrepreneur

 PS. If you don’t already follow us on Facebook or Instagram … now is good time to join in. We promise we will fill your feed with cute baby pictures!

Agritourism Works!

The post Mother’s Day on the Farm appeared first on Apple Hill Farm NC.

The post Love to Play appeared first on Apple Hill Farm NC.

Seventeen years ago, at the Kentucky State Fair, my life was forever changed when I came eye to eye with a tall fuzzy animal I had never seen before, an alpaca. Time stopped as I stood mesmerized. In front of me, in a stroller was my dozing son Will, only one at the time. I was 39, living in my hometown of Louisville. I was a breast cancer survivor, a cookbook author and a solo Mom.

That moment signaled the beginning of a journey that led us to the mountains of North Carolina to start an alpaca farm. From 3 female alpacas, we are now a family of over 100 animals that include llamas, angora goats, horses, ponies, chickens, dogs, cats, a pig and special human team that care for them.  Beyond breeding and selling animals, we offer guided walking tours to educate and tell the story of Apple Hill Farm and our animals. Our farm store is filled with a wide array of soft, touchable yarn, socks and other products made from alpaca fiber.

Be Present. 

Why the title “Be Present”? Because being present is a thread that runs through it all.  I was present when I first locked eyes with an alpaca.  I was present to the feelings of wanting to start over.  I was present through each turning point along the way.  Being present is the grit that got me here, through all the tough moments.  Being present is how I learned to be a mother and a farmer.  And all these years later it is the moments when I am present that I witness the beauty, awe and wonder of life on a farm.

So take a deep breath and relax in your body. Listen while I tell you stories of our animals, of mothering, of the power of alpacas and of family. I promise to leave you more present, engaged and inspired.

Come, be present with me,

Lee

The post Welcome to Lee’s Blog appeared first on Apple Hill Farm NC.

Spring has come to the mountains and one after another the plants have bloomed.  The crocus started early, followed by daffodils, soon after that were the apple trees and this week the rhododendron have taken front stage.  Yellow azaleas are just beginning to show while the lilacs prepare to bloom. After a long slow winter, spring seems too fast.  I want each bloom to stay longer.

For us at the farm is also the time of mothering.  We have 2-week old chicks peeping in the barn. Already their feathers are starting to come in, creating new designs and colors.  Sugie, an angora goat, gave birth earlier this week to a gorgeous grey and white male, Nugget.  This is her last, as she’s at the age where it is kindest to let her retire.  For the first time, she needed help during the birth. For a few days we helped give Nugget a strong start by milking her and bottle feeding him.  He is now nursing from Sugie all on his own.  Boy, are we grateful!

Meanwhile, we are anxiously checking and waiting on our other pregnant goats (Lucy, Wendy, and Gretel) to give birth.  All three are young and experienced Nannies.  And if that is not enough to send us all into a fit of baby goat bliss, Bonnie, our Great Pyrenees,  is due with puppies in the next week.  There is nothing cuter than fluffy white puppies.

It is an honor and continued source amazement to be a part of the birth of animals. It never ceases to take my breath away.  Life creating new life in its own time and way.  Our newly hatched eggs took only 21 days to incubate, Bonnie will be pregnant for just 8 weeks before she gives birth and the goats gestate for 5 months before their kids are born.

In the midst of this season, I am very aware of time.  As the waiting for labor stretches the minutes long, the parade of blooms speed up the days and in the moments of witnessing birth, time stands still.  Life is full of wonder.

Wishing you a happy spring and Mother’s Day, 
Lee Rankin
Writer, founder of Apple Hill Farm, & unapologetic entrepreneur

 PS. If you don’t already follow us on Facebook or Instagram … now is good time to join in. We promise we will fill your feed with cute baby pictures!

Agritourism Works!

The post Mother’s Day on the Farm appeared first on Apple Hill Farm NC.

Mr. Pickles arrives at Apple  Hill Farm.

Judy brought Mr. Pickles to the farm, with a crate, toys, blankets and a wardrobe of sweaters.  She sat in a chair in the store with Mr. Pickles in her lap and a cup coffee on the desk next. We peppered her with questions to make sure we knew everything to make his transition as smooth as possible.  And then there was silence between all of us as Judy worked up the nerve to say goodbye.  Tears were shed and promises made to come back and visit, before she got back into her car to leave.  And with zero pig experience and an hour of training, we entered the world of pig rescue. 

Mr. Pickles transitioned  well, accepting us quickly, a testament to all of Judy’s hard work and time. For the first few months, he went home with a team member every night both for warmth and companionship.  It was the best way we knew to keep the momentum in healing his past trauma and build on his acceptance of humans.  Having rescued many other animals, we were confident that for him, love was the key.

The breeding of tiny pigs is an inexact science, some pigs end up staying small but many end up 100 pounds or larger.  A strict limited diet is key, to keep them from growing beyond their leg capacity, while genetics decide the ultimate outcome. Our goal was for Mr. Pickles to be a ‘pet pig’, able to live inside and walk on a leash, knowing full well that we might end up with a ‘barn pig’.  However it ended up, we had the space and we knew he would be well loved.

Lessons in Halter Training a Pig.

On warm winter days,  we continued to work on his halter training, closing the barn doors, and using food, the best motivator for a pig.  He would go anywhere in the barn for a piece of carrot or a cheerio, his little hoofs making a clip, clip, clip noise on the concrete floor and his tail wagging. We set up an empty stall for him to explore with an old raised sand box filled with dirt for rooting around with his nose.  He picked a corner for his liter box and spent long hours snuffling around for pieces of hidden food or napping.  At night we brought him inside to my office to his crate and blankets.

As spring rolled around, confident in our pig training and taming abilities, we looked forward to expanding to leash walks outside the barn. Not for long though.  A walk outside with Mr. Pickles was a one way street to wherever HE wanted to go, usually a place that had food — grass, the scattered grain outside the chicken coop or the weeds in the soft soil of the garden. Any attempt to change his direction was met with loud, shrieking pig noises that brought the horses charging at the fence to see what was happening. Treats that we had used in the barn were useless in this outside world. Eventually we sectioned  off  a part of the garden, where he could just be a pig for limited time periods as a way to  successfully walk him on leash to a source of food.  Then we tried every training trick to walk him back to the barn.  Most walks dissolved into full blown pig tantrums and we ended up carrying him back to the barn kicking and screaming, literally.

Learning to Listen. 

Finally, we surrendered our ‘pet pig’ plan and Mr Pickles became a ‘barn pig’. During the day he stayed in his stall where he was happiest.  He had continued to grow in weight, size and at 20 pounds outgrew his crate or any desire to come inside at night, so we let him sleep out in the barn. He still loved attention, though. When I came out to give carrots to the horses every night, I wrapped Mr. Pickles in his blanket and picked him up. I stood in his stall, rocking back and forth while I sang lullabies. Eventually, he stopped cooing and became restless. Then I laid him down on his bed.

As fall approached, during the day he ‘talked’ excitedly to anyone who came near, loved back scratches and rolled over for a belly rub. He wagged his tail often signaling that he was one happy pig. At night though, he didn’t want to be rocked any more and he was only willing to be held for a short period of time. It was like he had a love tank and we had somehow filled it. A bittersweet moment, as we shifted our interaction to meet his need. When I came out at night, I greeted him singing “his” song, to the tune of Rubber Ducky, “Mr. Pickles you’re the one, you make tuck in lots of fun. Mr. Pickles I am awfully fond of you!”  And tucked him in with a piece of carrot and a kiss, just like the horses.

It wasn’t the outcome we hoped for, but we had transitioned Mr. Pickles through a new home and out of the trauma of his first home. Animal rescue is a mixture of meeting physical needs, providing love and listening to the needs of the animal. And in that way, Mr. Pickles was a whole pig, no longer in active ‘pig rescue’ and ready to move on to finding his purpose here on Apple Hill Farm.

This is Part Two of a three part series. If you missed Part One, click here to go back and read how Mr. Pickles came to Apple Hill Farm.https://applehillfarmnc.com/pig-rescue-p1/

The post Mr. Pickles gets rescued appeared first on Apple Hill Farm NC.

My cell phone rang and as I looked at the name on the screen, I braced myself. JUDY.  Judy was a friend, a fellow animal lover and a rescuer.  When she called me, it was usually a request for help and it generally included some element of animal rescue drama that put me outside of my comfort zone.  In the years since we met, I assisted her with many horse rescues and fostered a feral dog about ready to have puppies.  I was involved with a number of her risky ‘missions’ that involved animal neglect or out an out abuse.  Judy rarely called unless it was a desperate plea for help on behalf of an animal. Despite my hesitations, I found it nearly impossible to say no when she asked.

I made myself wait to pick up the call until I imagined the word NO, blinking in neon somewhere behind my forehead.

This time she started the conversation with a story, not a request for help.

“You have to come see my latest rescue.  It is a pig.  He’s adorable. I heard about him and drove 3 hours down off the mountain to purchase him.  The owner was planning to have him put down.”

Judy had talked about getting a pig for years, she was so excited that I couldn’t get a word in. I sat down with my coffee at the kitchen table and listened to her tell me about this adorable pig. The story came out like a long run on sentence.

“She was a pig breeder, breeding those little tea cup pigs and she was planning to keep him to be a “stud” pig because of his coloring.  Wait till you see him, he is pink and white and black.

Anyway, the breeder took him away from mama pig and kept him separate from the others and bottle fed him in a cage. Poor thing, he was all alone with no mama and no holding.  Then something happened and his back legs got all crossed. The breeder got worried that the leg issue might be hereditary, so as soon as he was able to eat, she put him in the pen with some other pigs. Big pigs.  So, there he was, legs crossed, less than half the size of every other pig, fending for himself. When I got down there he was covered in bite marks, his butt backed in the corner so he could defend himself.”

“That is awful!” I managed to squeeze in while she took a breath and sip of whatever she was drinking.

“Poor thing, he was so tormented, I could barely touch him. You know those little pigs are supposed to be handled, bottle fed and treated like a baby. That is how they are turned into pets.  He didn’t have any of that, so first I had to win his trust with food.  And slowly, I have been getting him to the stage that he lets me hold him, and bathe him. Lee, he is just like a baby now.  I took him to a chiropractor in town to see about his legs and he fixed him.  No more crossed legs!  All his bite marks are healed and he has hair, he didn’t have any when I first got him.  And the sounds he makes, I swear he coos when you rock him. And he is already litter trained.”

I was already in love with the little guy and I realized I didn’t know his name.

“What is his name?” I asked.

“Mr. Pickles” she answered.  “Everybody thinks it is Piggles … but it is Pickles like the things you eat!” she laughed.

“How big is he?” I asked trying to picture him.

“Only 10 pounds”

I tried to imagine a 10 pound pig only 2 pounds heavier than Chi Chi our chihuahua.

“I am still trying to get him trained to walk on a leash.  Lee, I am spending 2 hours a day on this pig.  He really needs a lot of TLC.” Pleading start to creep into her voice.

“How jealous is Jim?” I was half joking. Jim was her husband and worshiped her. He was in construction and I pictured that he was already remodeling their house to include the perfect place for Mr. Pickles.

“It is killing Jim. I have never seen a grown man so jealous in my life! We had a huge argument about it last night…” she paused. She sounded mad and a bit scared.

I didn’t know quite what to say. All I could think of was the parade of rescued dogs and cats that she had fostered in the few years since we met and how patient Al had seemed about it all.

“This morning he gave me an ultimatum, it is either him or the pig!?!” Her words were wrapped in sad desperation.

I was stunned.

“I am calling to see if you will take Mr. Pickles.”  Now she was crying.

My hard and fast NO, became ‘Yes, of course.’

And that is how Apple Hill Farm, became the next home of Mr. Pickles, the pig.

This story, is Part One of Three, and will be continued in the next blog post.

The post A Pig Rescue Story appeared first on Apple Hill Farm NC.

Seventeen years ago, at the Kentucky State Fair, my life was forever changed when I came eye to eye with a tall fuzzy animal I had never seen before, an alpaca. Time stopped as I stood mesmerized. In front of me, in a stroller was my dozing son Will, only one at the time. I was 39, living in my hometown of Louisville. I was a breast cancer survivor, a cookbook author and a solo Mom.

That moment signaled the beginning of a journey that led us to the mountains of North Carolina to start an alpaca farm. From 3 female alpacas, we are now a family of over 100 animals that include llamas, angora goats, horses, ponies, chickens, dogs, cats, a pig and special human team that care for them.  Beyond breeding and selling animals, we offer guided walking tours to educate and tell the story of Apple Hill Farm and our animals. Our farm store is filled with a wide array of soft, touchable yarn, socks and other products made from alpaca fiber.

Be Present. 

Why the title “Be Present”? Because being present is a thread that runs through it all.  I was present when I first locked eyes with an alpaca.  I was present to the feelings of wanting to start over.  I was present through each turning point along the way.  Being present is the grit that got me here, through all the tough moments.  Being present is how I learned to be a mother and a farmer.  And all these years later it is the moments when I am present that I witness the beauty, awe and wonder of life on a farm.

So take a deep breath and relax in your body. Listen while I tell you stories of our animals, of mothering, of the power of alpacas and of family. I promise to leave you more present, engaged and inspired.

Come, be present with me,

Lee

The post Welcome to Lee’s Blog appeared first on Apple Hill Farm NC.