“On behalf of everyone who’s ever exhibited impulsive behaviour, you have to admit that my personal brand of spontaneity is pretty harmless. I’ve seen people get themselves in all sorts of trouble as a result of impulsivity. But me? This morning I decided that I simply MUST learn how to build a house for a goat.
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And you know when you have your heart set on something? When you know it’s absolutely the right thing to do, even if you don’t know why? Well, that’s how I’ve been feeling about the animal shelter.
Ever since I read about it.
Two days ago.”
– Me, about five days before I left for the sanctuary.
Who knew it could be so rewarding to get headbutted by goats, stalked by a cockatoo, and chased by an escaped pig? (Don’t worry, guys, I came prepared for the stubborn pig chase wielding a dustbin lid as a shield – it seemed like a suitable way to balance out my lacklustre armour of gumboots and pyjamas – and the pig in question seemed to enjoy being tempted back to his paddock with bread.)
Despite the sporadic incidents of being pursued by playful pigs (who are truthfully incredibly affectionate animals), I ended up living at the animal shelter for five months. During that time, my eyes were opened to the intelligent and unique personalities of the 200+ animals onsite. But, more than anything, I saw the tireless efforts of long-term volunteers, who would frankly go with less themselves to give animals a better life; it was a crash course into the meaning of selflessness.
Although admittedly, despite my initial intentions, I’m not sure I ever actually learned how to build a house for a goat. Since I’m dyspraxic and thus have the motor skills of a slug carrying a pineapple*, permitting myself to wield a hammer and power tools without proper training and supervision would cross me over to the ‘troublesome’ edge of impulsivity that I always try to avoid. Maybe one day I’ll learn – and I promise to wear better protective gear than gumboots and pyjamas when I do.
*This is a joke. Dyspraxic people are very capable of doing everything from building stuff to solo travelling the world, depending on the individual, and nothing like slugs at all. Just don’t ask if we can ride a bike. (Dyspraxic people, not slugs. I have no idea if slugs can ride bicycles.)
Content warning – please note that this post briefly mentions animal death and digging graves.
If you want to learn what it’s like to be an animal sanctuary volunteer – or enjoy my chaotic memories of volunteering and animal tales in New Zealand – this is the post for you!
Though if you just want to scan through this post to see the cute photos of headbutty goats and playful pigs and stalker cockatoos, I can’t say I’ll blame you.
Want to hang out with animals without such a big commitment?
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My experience as an animal sanctuary volunteer
In early 2022, my accommodation fell through last minute, shortly after my job contract had ended. I also hadn’t seen a single person I knew for at least two years (an ongoing issue) due to border closures, and… well, you probably watched the news. So when I call volunteering for five months’ spontaneous,’ what I really mean is that I had no stability whatsoever, and it seemed as good an option as any. Besides, I’d always wanted to do something to help animals but felt unsure of how to achieve this goal.)
(And, a year on, I’ve rewound to feeling unsure of how to help animals again. Well, there was the dog I petsit last October who ate all my pants. Which seems very unfair, considering all the effort I spent protecting my underwear from the stalker cockatoo.)
Where was I? Oh, yes, I had no job and no home and no contact with loved ones for quite some time. So, as all sensible people do when things don’t go to plan, I veered onto a different path entirely.
Volunteering has always been in the back of my mind, but having the time to do it – and ethically – hadn’t lined up. Still, I was only 31, which everyone knows is the perfect time to hide from reality and go and live on a farm.
That said, I’d been trying to save money, so doing something as financially irresponsible as volunteering hadn’t exactly been on my radar. But for whatever reason, the idea popped into my head, and after a couple of hours of Googling, I knew EXACTLY where I was going!
Because when I have my mind set on something, everyone knows that I… well, I usually fail.
But this time I’d bit the bullet and applied before I even had the *chance* to fail!
A few days later, I took the train from Wellington to a small town I’d never heard of, where another volunteer – Katie – picked me up from the station.
Before I had a chance to get acquainted with the sights, sounds, and smells of the sanctuary (which is probably a good thing), I’d picked out a pair of old gumboots and was trundling a wheelbarrow down the hill, shovelling up horsesh*t.
Ah, the glamorous country living, amirite?
Since I’d been a permanent city dweller who’d lived her whole life between a few of the world’s biggest metropolises, this is where you should expect a funny story about culture shock. Y’know, spending the first few days slipping over in the mud, not knowing how to interact with a goat and awkwardly going in for a handshake, or feeling faint at the sight of a compost loo.
But no, absolutely not. From the moment I arrived, I loved it.
My identity as a city girl has always been a reluctant one. Since I’m a solo traveller who can’t drive, I’m generally drawn to places with good public transport and thus a safety net of multiple ways to exit. Being stuck in the middle of the countryside sounds kinda fun, but I do need an escape route. Y’know, just in case I turn up and the entire town is run by creepy children or zombie sheep. But for whatever reason, I knew I’d be safe at the female-run animal sanctuary.
So living in the countryside? It was a dream come true.
However, my immediate appreciation for the beauty and liveliness of the place didn’t mean I was GOOD at everything. I really wasn’t. Some challenges I embraced – I’m not easily flustered in a crisis, so dealing with an animal injury or death could be taken in stride – others were very difficult. Like fly season. (Do not get me started on fly season!!)
I mean, honestly, I’d never even had a pet before! Unless you count the hamster I’d had aged seven. Though I suppose I shouldn’t tell you what happened to the said hamster, or I may not be allowed near an animal sanctuary again.
“Learning how complex and expressive each animal is, through nurturing relationships with them, has been such a gift. This beautiful horse, Lentil, will never be ridden, though we hope she will become more confident around humans or even have a caring foster family one day.
She was left on her own, you see, for a long, long time. And now she is learning what it means to be loved.”
– My animal sanctuary diary. My friend asked if this was a metaphor for me. Depending on which part she’s referring to, that’s either very cute or very offensive.
My animal sanctuary volunteer schedule
At the animal sanctuary, we’d essentially work full-time hours with two days off per week. (The association between the countryside and slow living may be a myth because I was pretty much burnt out 95% of the time.)
The daily schedule looked something like this:
07:45 – wake up. Drag my sleep-deprived body out of bed. Try to remember to put clothes on before opening the curtains, in case the creepy cockatoo is watching me. Or at least before going outside.
08:00 – morning feeds begin. Fill the wheelbarrow with breakfast for goats, hedgehogs and roosters. Or horses, sheep and cows. Or bunnies, pigs, and turkeys. Depending on the rota.
Imagine feeds are a gameshow in my head to distract me from sleepiness. ‘Onneeee orange for Teapot! And Blue looks like he’s going for a Kiwi! Yes, he’s hit the jackpot! Blue’s got the kiwi!’ (Essentially, feeds were like a super wholesome version of the Hunger Games… except completely different in every single way.)
09:30 – morning meeting. Discuss tasks for the day and any important animal matters, such as injuries and health issues, or if any repairs or improvements are needed around the sanctuary. Down as much coffee as is humanly possible.
10:00 – morning tasks. animal caretaking, cleaning paddocks, doing repairs, or giving animal lunches, depending on what you’re rotated onto.
Tuesdays and Fridays also involve prepping pig and goat feeds for the next few days. On the bright side, this food is donated from supermarkets! On the less bright side, this food is donated in literal bins. Must wear cleaning gloves, and pray they don’t have holes in them.
13:00 – lunch break. Lie in bed in exhaustion before remembering to take off hay-infested clothing. Try to brush hay off the bed before giving up.
13:00 – afternoon tasks – most days we had individual set tasks, but occasionally we had more novel tasks that required the whole team.
These tasks could include herding sheep (the very amusingly stubborn sheep), trimming hooves, picking up roosters to give them parasite medication, moving hay bales, or improving my gravedigging technique. And, yes, you did hear that right.
17:00 – evening feeds. Same as morning feeds, except this time around I’ve had enough coffee to not feel like a zombie.
18:00 – days usually finish at 18:00 (or earlier, if you’re just on one feed that day). However, some tasks involve working later, such as giving specific animals medications or feeding the humans; once a week each volunteer would cook a group dinner for the volunteers. As a perpetually single person, I was more nervous about feeding the humans than the animals, so this was an unexpectedly useful skill to learn.
19:00 – dinner. I’d usually head to my room immediately after dinner and enjoy some quiet time. (The sort of quiet time that involves listening to crowing birds and screaming cockatoos and goats headbutting one another. V peaceful.)
Gilly, the resident black cat, would usually be waiting for me after evening feeds, meowing incessantly until I crawled into bed with him. So we’d spend the evenings together, watching YouTube or discussing philosophy. Usual cat stuff. And occasionally he’d headbutt me too. Because, hey, why should goats have all the fun?
Because I arrived during a certain global crisis, the sanctuary was short on volunteers. This meant we had to focus our time on the most important tasks – the work was very full-on, and I was often in awe of the energy and unrelenting work of some of the volunteers who lived there full-time. In less critical times, volunteers often have the chance to take on fun roles – like painting murals on accommodations and learning specific skills.
“Grey skies set the mood for a burial. It took five of us to carry sweet Doris across the paddock and into her freshly dug grave, giving her as much dignity as we could in the process.
Gherkin, with whom Doris shared her paddock, has been far from his boisterous self today. You could see the moment when he slowly realised what had happened – that Doris wouldn’t be coming back. I don’t know how he knew, but he slowly lay down where her body had been, looking full of grief.
In the neighbouring paddock, piglet Blue was blissfully unaware of Gherkin’s ordeal. Despite the rain, I’d gotten too hot while perfecting my gravedigging technique and taken my t-shirt off to cool down. Blue made a move for his new toy, craftily pulling my t-shirt through the fence and waggling it in his mouth like a puppy, joyfully playing with it and dragging it through the mud. I was struck by such amusement.
As the day closed, I joyously noticed that Blue had gone to bed cuddling my t-shirt, while simultaneously deeply sad that Gherkin had gone to bed alone.
I recognise that this strange juxtaposition of emotions is a very ordinary reflection of living; there is nothing remarkable about delight and distress happening concurrently. But still, I was very aware at that moment that everything was both constantly moving and standing still. It’s so ordinary when something ends. Unnotable. Impactless. Yet endings are simultaneously hugely significant, and merely finding significance in endings is a fundamental and noteworthy part of being alive. Ordinary and extraordinary, all at once.”
– my animal sanctuary diary
Highs and lows of being an animal sanctuary volunteer
The most rewarding aspects of volunteering with animals
Learning to care for the animals (basic medication and injury care/prevention)
Because I didn’t grow up around animals, I really appreciated learning these basic skills. Whether it was administering eyedrops, hiding goat medication in bread, or cleaning basic wounds, I knew that these handy skills could come in handy in the future. Well, I hope they do.
Animal caretaking also included putting sunscreen on Doris, a gorgeous old piggie who wasn’t used to sunlight after living in a factory, and ‘animal enrichment,’ whereby we’d give animals creative challenges to keep their minds engaged in new tasks, just as they would be in the wild.
Doing physically demanding work
One of my first jobs after uni was working as a production assistant, alongside other film-related roles, in London, which I continued with for a few years – on and off. I loved being on set; the crazy hours, lugging heavy equipment around, the chaotic schedules and never knowing what to be prepared for next. (Unfortunately, I also learned that some people in that industry don’t like to pay you. They also really like to talk about your arse, rather incessantly. Safe to say I eventually quit and have been aimlessly wandering around ever since – a little too literally.)
In the years since I’ve worked in many office roles (albeit office roles in a few different countries), and I’ve missed that fast-paced environment. Like many workers, I thrive in unpredictable situations and don’t do my best work when it becomes repetitive.
Working in an animal sanctuary reminded me of how important these sorts of changeable environments are – how good it is to be on the move as part of your job.
And, again, this doesn’t mean I’m GOOD at physically demanding work. But once upon a time, I was that ratty kid who always got picked last in PE (possibly because I sat in the corner with a shuttlecock on my head like a dunce hat?), so I’d say I’ve already beaten my own expectations in that regard. I might never be the strongest or most coordinated person in the room, but I’m pushing the limits of my body in my own small ways.
In an ideal world, I’d be able to combine my creative background, and surprising ability to stay organised in a chaotic environment, with doing work that benefitted animals. It’s a long shot, but it made me think a lot about the key skills which I don’t get to use any more.
Animals are cute, okay? ANIMALS ARE CUTE.
I know this is a very controversial statement. But I happen to think animals are super duper cute. How am I not supposed to fall in love with them?
The challenges of being a farm sanctuary volunteer
Being stalked by a creeper cockatoo
Oh, Casper, how famous you have become within my inner circle, who have enjoyed (or put up with) endless photos of you spying on me.
Casper would follow me around screaming and staring through my window at all times of the day. Sometimes I’d see his little eyeball spying on me from places I didn’t even know I was visible. When I walked back to my room, he’d chase me to the front door – trying to wedge it open with his claws before I got inside, so he could break in with me.
And the one time I went to bed with my window open, he woke me up by making a nest in my bed.
Now, I suppose this could sound quite amusing, but I did end up swapping rooms because of it. You see, as much I’m travelling to ‘find a home’ – and building a home with someone has been a lifelong dream of mine (presuming I learn to safely use the aforementioned power tools, of course) – I had really hoped it would be with a human, and not a cockatoo.
I’ve always been the sort of non-combative person who tried to avoid ruffling any feathers at all costs, so it’s somewhat ironic that I found myself in this peculiar predicament nonetheless. I still gave the little guy attention and occasional rides around on my wheelbarrow. I mean, look at his little creepy face. Never has a peaking cockatoo been so adorable. Well, and terrifying. Adorable and terrifying.
‘You need to shake it until the mountain of poo goes down.’
I’m going to spare the details of this particular task. You’re welcome.
Just know that this was a three-person job. Yippee.
Working in all conditions – from hot summer days to crashing thunderstorms
Obviously, this comes with the territory. Some days, slipping down a muddy hill on your butt is part of the fun. On other days, the last thing you want to do is spend a few hours outside in the pouring rain. On these occasions, you can merely try to remind yourself that at least the rain pour will mean the smelly cockatoo finally gives himself a bath.
“Lots of work in the rain now. Winter is on its way. Last night the sky roared and thundered violently. The wind whipped through lightning flashes and cut through power lines. After a nine-hour wait, electricity was restored to the sanctuary (and hot tea was restored to my bones).“
– My animal sanctuary diary
Not having much time for self-care or personal projects.
Because I was so tired during my weekends – and because I was stuck in the middle of nowhere and literally could not leave the sanctuary (which does feel a little bit like living in your office, albeit a very beautiful one) – I didn’t have much energy left for other things. During my time at the sanctuary, I barely wrote, read, or otherwise engaged in creative projects.
Usually, these creative pursuits and personal projects are a huge part of my life. Sometimes, they don’t even fail, and everybody involved is very impressed. (Well, usually, I’m the only person involved, but it’s still very satisfying on my part.) Having time for hobbies – or actively using these skills to do good – would be an ideal outcome.
Not having your own space (human and animal flatmates)
Accommodation and food were included for volunteers, which was brilliant. We had everything we needed, including nutritious ingredients and a focus on comfortable bedding. But, sometimes, I did wish I could cook my own food in a calm kitchen or not have to put gumboots on to use the bathroom, which is probably pretty normal. Overall, I’m pretty low maintenance and didn’t get too stressed about this. Except for when it was fly season, of course. (Do not get me started on fly season!!)
This was a different brand of coliving to the city flatshares I’m used to, and admittedly I found the social aspect exhausting and, at times, a bit daunting. However, the volunteers truly were wonderful people – like, it’s not often you spend time with a big group of people and genuinely have mad respect for all of them. We did our best to cover for each other and be respectful of each other’s mental health and individual needs.
Of course, we also shared our space with lots of animals who weren’t super familiar with the concept of office hours.
The Beaky Blinders
While most animals were permanently adorable, it took a while to master peacefully co-existing with the Beaky Blinders – the naughtiest and loudest resident rooster gang.
Honestly, how had I gone my whole life thinking roosters only crow at dawn?! They never stop! They reminded me of stereotypical early-tentacles (the 2010s) British lads out on a bender, causing havoc on the London Underground while everyone else just wants some peace and quiet.
Being woken up by chickens all night is rather annoying, which led to a short lesson on how to handle a rooster.* Around dusk, they’d all go for a collective nap. We’d gently pick them up – covering their wings – and take them down to the orchard. Here, we’d find some comfortable-looking branches for them to sleep in and pop them up for the night.
Yep, tucking a rooster into bed is basically the exact same thing as decorating a Christmas Tree.
Unfortunately, we were no match for the Beaky Blinders. They never stayed down at the orchard for long and would promptly continue their spree of general public nuisance.
*And this sentence is why, despite being British, I will not be using our commonly used synonym for ‘rooster.’ I am a very grown-up 32-year-old woman, and you’ll find none of that nonsense here.
“Today the air was fresh in between rainfall. The kind of cleansing air that invites you to take a deep breath. Cool but not cold; soothing on my skin which has been troubled by scratchy hay and all manner of other textures these last months.
By evening feeds, the rain was thick and white clouds lay low over the hills. When the rain beats on the rooftops, it drowns out the bleats and the crows and the squeals.
200 animals are not the quietest housemates, and my expectations of sleep are low. But rain is my lullaby, my white noise, the perfect companion to nightfall’s thick blanket, and I pray for it to lull me into sleep before the new day begins.”
– my animal sanctuary diary
Being headbutted by goats
Nah, just kidding, I kinda loved being headbutted by goats. (Although I’ll still do my best to deter them, it’s not exactly a habit you want a kid to learn into adulthood.)
But if a rooster pecks me? I will consider the little cock my arch-nemesis for all eternity.*
(*Not a vulgar rooster synonym. Just a bit of casual swearing. When you get pecked by a hungry rooster, you’ll understand.)
Fly season
What did I say about not getting me started on fly season?!
Saying goodbye
Just look at my little face saying goodbye to Blue and Teapot, who I’d watched snuggling each other from my window for months.
This was such a heartbreaking day.
“Today I strolled through the Autumn wildflowers. The change of seasons mesmerises me; how even when you live somewhere for years at a time, you see it decorated in a thousand colours. How the earth shifts and changes and grows as many times as we do. How the cells under all living things, each root and blossom and smile, shifts and changes too. Grows old and becomes new.
Cities too – I know tower blocks better than towering hills. The way they become oppressive under grey skies and slushy snow underfoot in winter, with only the twinkle of festive lights under rarely washed windows to wink and suggest hundreds of humans live between those walls. The way that the harsh summer sun spotlights all the colours at once, before Autumn sets them on fire.
The earth is not our canvas; each colour and cell and sky and season belongs to itself. But we can share in it, take gratitude in it, feel renewed by it; in the reliable changing months, in the weather that chills and warms, in the leaves that grow and fall again. Just as we grow and fall too. Everything grows old and becomes new.”
– My animal sanctuary diary
Do you want to volunteer too?
This last part of the article is a little boring, but if the one person who reads this (Hi Casper…) is inspired to volunteer at an animal sanctuary, that comes with a little responsibility on my part. Because volunteering isn’t necessarily ethical.
Start locally
Look for local sanctuaries that need assistance, even if you give one day a week or month to volunteer onsite or help with fundraising at their local charity shop.
It’s advantageous for shelters to have long-term volunteers; otherwise, they have to keep training new people over and over again. So if you have a local sanctuary or nearby rescue animal shelter, that’s probably the most helpful place you can volunteer.
(Please, please, please) avoid animal tourism
Sorry to tell you this, but there’s no such thing as animal sanctuary volunteer vacations.
Volunteering is not a holiday, and it’s not fair to animals (especially animals who have been abused or mistreated) to treat them as a fun holiday activity.
Or, indeed, to be used as a prop on your own personal development journey.
If the incentive of an animal ‘sanctuary’ is for a conveyor belt of tourists to touch, wash, or take selfies with an animal – particularly wild animals – then it is not ethical.
If you want to volunteer abroad, ideally do so when you have ample time to take off work. (Or go in between jobs, as I did.)
Animal lovers can take care of animals anywhere – locally or abroad. So if you HAVE to go abroad to help animals, it’s really worth asking yourself… are you volunteering for the animals or for yourself?
Of course, there are exceptions to that rule. You might be volunteering short-term as you’re a qualified or experienced professional who already knows the ropes, especially if there’s a need for extra volunteers during a specific crisis or volunteer shortage. Other professionals have built a career out of raising awareness for animals, which I also massively respect.)
Become an animal foster parent.
Not everyone can commit to a new lifelong family member, but that doesn’t mean you don’t love cats and dogs as much as the next person. Fostering a local puppy or kitten is a great way to give them a loving start in life until they find a forever home.
Donate – it helps so much!
If you can’t donate time, then don’t underestimate how helpful it is to donate money to your local shelter. Sure, you might not get the cute photos with a herd of horny goats, but you’re still massively helping those horny goats – and that’s what’s truly important.
Animal sanctuaries appreciate these donations so much. It makes a huge difference for the people who give their lives to animal volunteering.
You could also sponsor an animal – many sanctuaries allow for this, and it’s a great way to have more of a one-on-one connection with a specific animal, even if you don’t have the time to volunteer.
But things are hard, and volunteering and donating is a privilege, so please only do this if you feel comfortably able to do so!
If you’ve enjoyed this post and would like to support them, you can donate to the animal sanctuary I volunteered at here.
Animal Sanctuary Volunteering Wrap-Up
Getting to work with animals is something I’ll always be immensely grateful for, especially due to the patience and approachability of the long-term volunteers who provided a wonderful introduction to animal behaviour and welfare. Their lessons will always stay with me.
I meet many people on my travels, and occasionally the endless hellos and goodbyes begin to blur together, but not this time. This time I met people who I wish to emulate, who motivated me when I felt overwhelmed or exhausted, and whose momentous commitment to Doing Good will be with me every day going forward. Their existence in the world feels so very necessary to me, so very important, in a way I suspect I can only strive towards and never quite grasp.
What’s next?
Since leaving the sanctuary, the path forward has been both clearer and more uncertain than ever.
I’ve never felt so sure of a place since the first day I arrived in Australia and declared that ‘I’ve been living my whole life upside-down and finally, I’m the right way up.’ If I end up lucky, there are two things I’ll have more of in my life: animals and Australia.
Sometimes your heart tells you that your story just isn’t over somewhere, even if you aren’t sure why. Leaving too soon feels like having a brilliant book taken away from you before you get to the end, cut off short. Someday, you know you have to go back, meet the rest of the characters, and finish what you started.
Personal Animal Sanctuary Photo Album:
Most of the photos in this post were on my days off, and many were taken on the same 3-4 days out of a 5-month period. So they’re not the best representation of what working on the sanctuary looked like. On working days I was generally too busy or exhausted to think about photos. Taking time to hang out with the animals and enjoy the countryside was something I had to be quite intentional about. A huge thank you to everyone who helped me get all these photos from my stay.
Get free homestays all around the world in exchange for pet care – use code CASSIE25 to get 25% off TrustedHousesitters memberships
Josy, you’ve made my day with this comment! I miss Casper, Gilly, and all the animals very much and I’m so so grateful that I got to share this experience with you. (Even the part about being a slug carrying a pineapple!)
What a great read and like you, I’m also allergic to everything so I don’t think I’ll be volunteering any time soon, as much as I’d like to!
Wow what an experience. Enjoyed your writing style and humor. Keep on sharing!
This was such a delightful read! It sounds like an amazing and rewarding experience, if also character building. I’m sure you learned lessons that you’ll take with you for your whole life!
Aaaah Cassie, your blog is always such a breath of fresh air – I guess that works extra well for this post set in the countryside! I loved reading this.
You hooked me at the start with your description of your motor skills of a slug carrying a pineapple… but what kept me reading were all the extracts from your diary and the colourful descriptions of your animal roommates, especially Casper and Gilly!
There is definately a lot to find out about this subject. I like all the points you made
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