Rescue & Adoptions

In Loving Memory

Neptune

If you have ever visited Farm Sanctuary's California Shelter, chances are you remember meeting and spending time with a wise old goat named Neptune. Named for the Roman god of the sea, the mighty and regal goat benevolently ruled over our west coast sanctuary since it opened nearly 14 years ago. From then until the sorrowful day we said goodbye to our beloved friend, Neptune's valiance and precious capacity for forgiveness were rarely lost on visitors, volunteers and especially, the staff who cared for him throughout his extraordinarily long tenure at the farm.

Rescued from a life of misery, Neptune was not always treated like the king he was destined to become. Before arriving at Farm Sanctuary, he and another goat had spent their lives tied to a fence, possessing little to no freedom of movement-let alone the ability to graze and explore. Sharing in one another's suffering and providing solace to each other for several years, the goats became so noticeably depressed that a disturbed neighbor picked up on their decline and alerted local animal control. The goats' "owner" retaliated against the concerned neighbor by killing Neptune's constant companion, leaving the unnamed goat tethered next to his mourning friend. In the end it was his companion's brutal death that ultimately saved Neptune, who was afterward rescued by animal control and sent to live among friends at Farm Sanctuary.

Although he was whimsical in appearance, Neptune's background seemed to transform him into an old soul beyond his years. And unlike other rescued farm animals who continually amaze us by re-discovering their carefree natures-especially goats who are known for being jovial and extroverted- Neptune maintained a seriousness that set him apart from many of the others. Naturally, he was a happy and radiant being, but those who knew him best also believe that the memory of his past sadness never entirely left him. Unsurprisingly, it was this quality that struck so many who made his acquaintance and kept even the most skeptical onlookers from denying the depth of feeling and awareness possessed by those of his species. Many first time visitors and volunteers to this day, in fact, vividly recall sleepless nights thinking of him and his sorrowful tale and attribute meeting him to changing their lives for the better.

To the goats, Neptune was a cool and confident patriarch, whose authority was rarely challenged by new additions to the herd. While the others frolicked through the pastures, chasing after the vehicle from which caregivers would drop hay, Neptune always stood by patiently and waited for food to come his way. When one of the herd members stepped out of line or decided to munch on a choice pile of hay reserved for the elders, a single, determined nudge from Neptune's majestic horns would be enough to put him in his place. And when Neptune finally succumbed to the aches and pains of his ripe old age and his hopelessly devoted caregivers moved him to flatter pasture and to the calm and safety of a smaller, special needs herd, the goats who followed his direction for years mourned the loss of his company and would call out to him whenever he was in view.

The caregivers at our California Shelter did everything in their power to make Neptune comfortable in his twilight years, but the increasing pain of his debilitating arthritis caused him to eventually resist medical treatment, and even routine healthcare checks became intolerable for him. Despite pain-induced changes in his personality, Neptune maintained his dignity until the very end. And as if he had somehow known and made peace with his parting, Neptune enjoyed his last day by leaving his barn for the first time in weeks to look out over his kingdom one last time. The next day, after his friends and admirers paid their respects to the powerful institution that he was, Neptune was humanely euthanized in the company of his devoted, longtime caregivers.

Against all odds, Neptune came to us and impacted all our lives in ways one could only understand by spending time in his presence. He lived a very long and content life, something that most farm animals never get to experience. And although this fact alone gives us comfort, we have yet to get used to his passing. As our caregivers set out on the shelter at the beginning of each work day, they still glance up to the golden pasture on which his valiant shadow last fell. The love we had for Neptune will only continue to burn with the intensity he shed on our purpose as farm animal advocates.