Bales of joy | ia magazine

Sanctuary resident Matty poses for a closeup.

Writer: Kyle Heim
Photographers: Kyle Heim and Laura Wiederholt

Deep in the heart of rural Iowa, a farm unlike any other in the state offers a peaceful home for more than 100 residents.

Iowa Farm Sanctuary is a safe haven for dairy calves born too small to be sent to slaughter, turkeys who survived a tornado at a factory farm, goats who suffered frostbite during Iowa’s unforgiving winters, and many others who’ve experienced hardship yet carry on with unmistakable resilience.

Spend enough time around the rescued farm animals and you’ll see a melting pot of personalities that shine brighter than the afternoon sun that frequently scorches the property in Oxford every summer. It’s a place where friendship and empathy flourish, where it’s not uncommon for a goat to befriend a cow (I’m thinking of you two, Joey and Auggie), and where a volunteer grieving a loss may seek the comfort of Buddy, a tripod cow who is not only surviving but thriving.

The residents’ stories have brought visitors to tears and volunteers to lifestyle changes. One even inspired a Newsweek article: “Bull born with three legs melts hearts as he enjoys the ‘life he deserves.’”

When I first arrived for my volunteer orientation in July 2022, I didn’t know the differences between a Holstein and Jersey cow, couldn’t differentiate between hay and straw, and thought “muck” was something that happened in rugby. Or was I thinking of ruck?

As I fumbled with the latch on the entrance gate, little did I know I was walking into what would become a sanctuary of my own.

Less than an hour later, I was scooping, or mucking, cow pies larger than my head, brushing goats and feeding animal crackers to the sheep.

I’d soon meet one of my best friends, Tay, and for the first (but certainly not last) time in my life, bond with a cow as fiercely as I had with the dog I had growing up. Tay’s initial greeting was unlike any other I’d ever received — covering my entire left arm in slobber.

Many of my early volunteer days ended with a trek to co-founders Shawn and Jered Camp’s backyard, where I’d help Tay get a drink from the hose.

When summer 2023 rolled around, I was often stationed on Sundays as an animal ambassador with the backyard crew, including Tay. I shared her story with anyone who would listen — about how she’d been born at a dairy farm and needed specialized care, that she was missing part of her jawbone, that two of her legs had misaligned and underdeveloped bones.

While she would block the pathway and box out a miniature zebu named Angel, trying to coax as many treats as she could from visitors, I would explain how she used to share a princess tent with her adopted sister, a sweet little piglet named Theo.

I’d tell stories about the summer campout, where she waited around the picnic tables to lick up leftover Cinnaholic crumbs.

On most days, after the visitors cleared out, Tay would sometimes lie down next to me and gently lay her head in my lap while she chewed her cud before dozing off.

The staff knew her bone structure would become problematic as she grew, that her time at the sanctuary would never be enough.

This past spring, we named the walkway around the property Tay’s Trail, in honor of the resident who paved a path of kindness and love at IFS. And while she’s no longer a member of the backyard crew, I still share stories about Tater Tot and all the joy she brought to the world.

Iowa Farm Sanctuary volunteer Kyle Heim spreads fresh bedding in a stall for a cow named Auggie.

THE WORK NEVER STOPS

In the two years and counting that I’ve been volunteering, I’ve watched a group of goats and sheep settle into a life of sanctuary after being rescued from a Washington County farm that Shawn Camp described at the time as a “boneyard.” By her estimate, more than 1,000 animals had likely died there over the years, with their remains scattered all over the property.

I asked sanctuary manager Katie Valentine what she wishes she could tell all the animals she helps rescue. “That the worst of their life is behind them, and that we’ll do everything we can to kind of erase those memories for them as much as possible,” she said. “They don’t have to worry ever again about lack of food or lack of safety.”

Many of those saved from Washington County in November 2022 arrived starving, needing urgent medical care, clinging to life. Some had parasite loads far worse than any of their doctors had seen, some beyond what the vets believed were survivable.

I saw Jacqueline and Jill both arrive pregnant, before they gave birth to three babies. Jacqueline had the twins, Peter and Mary, while Jill had Tristan. And thanks to those two moms, I got to bottle-feed a lamb for the first time in my life.

On a sunny May afternoon, I watched with tears as the nearly six-month quarantine lifted for the residents rescued from Washington County. That day, BJ, Al, Russ, Ed, Lilly and Junior finally got to explore the rest of the property and interact with the other IFS residents.

I cried again when I found out the news that Peter had to be euthanized at just 14 months old after undergoing surgery to correct a small intestinal obstruction. During the procedure, the surgeons discovered that his intestines were beyond repair.

The highs and lows can feel overwhelming at times, but the work never stops.

And just when I started to feel like nothing else could surprise me, I found out the sanctuary’s miniature horse, Mo, gave birth to a little mini-Mo in the early morning hours on April 21. Mo had arrived as a foster the previous fall, and nobody realized she was pregnant. After all, a lot of the residents added a little extra padding once they settled in at IFS.

But during his morning checks in the barn, Jered Camp found Mo in one of the stalls with the newborn Luxe right beside her.

HOW IT ALL STARTED

Shawn and Jered Camp have been rescuing and caring for farm animals ever since they bought a property in Marengo off Craigslist and moved there in May 2016, welcoming their first rescued residents later that summer.

“Jered and I had just built a new-construction home in North Liberty, and we had been vegetarian for years and years,” Shawn Camp said during the annual IFS spring “Pig-nic” in May. “About six months into living in this new home, we decided to go vegan, and we’re like, ‘We need to do more than just change our diet; we need to rescue farm animals.’ Well, we couldn’t do that in a duplex, despite the fact that I was Googling if I could have cows in the city limits.”

A pair of month-old piglets were the first animals IFS rescued. While Marley, who began having issues with arthritis in his joints when he was 2, has since died, Monkey celebrated her 8th birthday in the summer and remains the oldest pig at the sanctuary, which relocated to the larger 40-acre property in Oxford in 2020.

On the opposite side of the farm from the pig barn, the sanctuary’s oldest resident, Otis, turned 20 this year, a significant milestone considering the average lifespan of sheep is about 10 to 12 years.

Instead of walking to the backyard after chores, my volunteer shifts these days typically end with a visit to the misfit pasture. With several animal crackers in hand, I’ll call out to Larry, the sheep who often grazes at the far end of the pasture.

He’ll turn, see me and start running in my direction, knowing it’s time for a treat. We typically meet in the middle, and as I kneel down and release my grip on the animal crackers, he begins chowing. Watching him support his weight with just three legs, I’m reminded of his story — how a little over a year ago when he was a baby lamb, his mother stepped on him and crushed his back left leg, how his injured leg eventually fell off completely, and how it wasn’t long before he lost his mom and became an orphan.

Before he finishes his last animal cracker, I sneak in one last pet and an “I love you,” before he returns to his previous activity.

As I turn and leave for the day, I always find comfort knowing it won’t be long before I return.

Volunteer opportunities at Iowa Farm Sanctuary

Iowa Farm Sanctuary offers a wide range of opportunities for volunteers, from more physically demanding routine chores to laid-back Sunday strolls in the summer.

Routine chores

Volunteers work alongside the residents, cleaning stalls, filling water tanks, sweeping aisles and laying fresh bedding. It’s a workout without a pricey gym pass, and it’s a good excuse to get dirty.

“Volunteers will clean a few of the stalls in what we call the misfit barn. The misfit barn houses primarily residents with some sort of disability, whether they’re blind or they’re missing a limb or they suffered frostbite,” sanctuary manager Katie Valentine said. “We always encourage volunteers, once they’re done, to go hang out with the residents, get to know them, learn their stories, kind of build connections with them, establish relationships and learn about where they came from.”

Volunteers can sign up for routine chores Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays and Saturdays. Shifts begin at 10 a.m. and typically end around 1 or 2 p.m.

Bedtime chores

Volunteers who sign up for bedtime chores get to lead the residents into their stalls at night for dinner and bedtime. While most of the animals eat hay, residents like Auggie, a cow born with hypotrichosis, a rare genetic condition characterized by a lack of hair and teeth, gets a special mash.

Bedtime chore availability varies from month to month. Shifts start about an hour before dark, so around 4 or 4:30 p.m. in the winter and 7:30 or 8 p.m. in the summer.

Sunday strolls

From late May through early October, the sanctuary opens to the public for strolls around the property from 1-4 p.m. on Sundays.

Volunteers arrive at noon to cut up produce donated from Hy-Vee, which guests can purchase to feed to the residents. Volunteers are posted throughout the property to share stories about the animals and where they came from.

“It’s a really good interactive, educational experience to come out here and visit and to meet the residents,” Valentine said. “That’s another volunteering opportunity. … You just come out here, sit in the sun for four hours and hang out with animals. It’s a good gig.”

Other opportunities

Other ways to get involved include planning with the garden committee, fundraising and helping out during events. Iowa Farm Sanctuary hosts a spring Pig-nic in May, its first big event of the season, followed by Buddy’s Bonfire campout in July, and Carl’s 5K and a Halloween Stroll in October. Find all the details at iowafarmsanctuary.org.

A few of the Iowa Farm Sanctuary residents, pictured below.