Rescue & Adoptions

In Loving Memory

Joy

When she first arrived, the buzz was palpable. Word spread like wildfire among staff that a red-haired, knobby-kneed, 5-week-old lamb had come to live at Farm Sanctuary's New York Shelter.

Different names for the newcomer were bandied about. Multiple trips to the shelter office where she was housed were made by doting staff members. Digital photos were "ooohed" and "ahhhed" at. We couldn't get enough of the baby lamb.

But her circle of friends didn't expand beyond our property line. We didn't introduce Joy to the world, or put her in any of our adoption programs or publications. She wasn't on public tours, she wasn't available for press coverage. The truth was simple and tragic: Joy didn't make her grand entrance into the public sphere because she wasn't expected to live.

Joy was born with a serious heart condition called Tetralogy of Fallot, a combination of four separate heart defects. For those living with Tetralogy of Fallot, the bottom line is grim. The heart is so disabled that not enough blood reaches the lungs to pick up oxygen, which means oxygen-poor blood flows through the rest of the body.

In addition to Tetralogy of Fallot, Joy had multiple other concerns. She was born on Good Friday as one-half of a pair of twins; her sibling died a day after birth. Joy was unable to process milk, and, as a result, had been rejected by her mother. She was also unable to digest milk replacer or other milk and soy milk products.

Joy was brought to Cornell University Hospital for Animals shortly after she was born. Though they loved her, Joy's previous family could not provide her with the time or treatment she needed. A Cornell veterinarian contacted Farm Sanctuary to see if we'd give the young girl a shot at life. We did.

At our shelter, Joy experienced no dearth of attention. During the day, a steady flow of staff members stopped by and spent time with her, often taking her outside on lunch breaks where the curious girl would nip the heads off of dandelions. Though small, these moments gave her a precious glimpse into the life of a normal, healthy lamb.

In the evenings, staff members would take her home to keep her company-and, living closer to Cornell, could rush her to the hospital if need be. Joy took many trips to the hospital, getting treatment for multiple ailments, but at the same time, getting stronger every day. She even grew little horns and gave us hope that she may get better. Through it all, she never lost her spirit-she was always up and happy-rising from her resting position on the floor of the shelter office when people came into the room.

Joy's last trip to Cornell's vet hospital came in late June. An X-ray showed that her heart had enlarged to the point where she couldn't breathe, coughed constantly, and couldn't lay down. She was euthanized in the arms of a staff member.

Though she was with us for only a few short months, Joy showed so clearly how one life can touch so many-getting to the crux of what Farm Sanctuary is all about. We work to ease the suffering of all farm animals. Each life matters. And each should be afforded the consideration and respect that fact demands.