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Lefty’s Place Farm Sanctuary: Origin Story

Loads of sites come up in my feed. Some I scroll through, others I block and a few catch my interest and I click through to their page. I’ve profiled two rescue groups for my blog: Fresh Start For Hens in England and Tikkun Olam in the States. I reached out to Lefty’s, a 20 acre sanctuary in the Macedon Ranges, Australia and asked if they were interested in doing an interview with me.

From experience I know that folks running a rescue are busy 24/7 and don’t have a lot of spare time. I suggested that I scroll through their Facebook page to see what I could use. As it turns out, it took me a couple of hours just to get through the last three months and I ended up with so much material I decided to create a miniseries: Tamara’s chicken rescue photographs; LPFS’s origin story; profiles of chickens; and stories of rescue birds with health issues.

This is the story of Tamara and Justin and their commitment to rescuing unwanted and abused sheep and poultry.


Lefty’s started when my partner Justin brought home two young sheep – Lefty and Righty – bound for slaughter in 2011. They came from a farmer who was talking about them at a pub in Benalla who Justin overheard. He didn’t like the sound of what was going to happen to them, so he asked to have them. The farmer called Lefty “Crazy Eyes” and called Righty “Einstein” because he was so smart.

From there we rescued more sheep and then I fell in love with chickens. We used to live in a house that was like a historical ruin but without the charm. I’d get up in the mornings, dodge the holes in the floorboards and pull open the rotting back door with force to see three sheep faces staring in at me, waiting for treats. Lefty, Righty and Junior were experts in forcing the sheep man, Justin, to offer up more treats than I ever did and they eagerly awaited the sound of his voice each morning.

This morning (Feb.5.25) whilst I was doing my rounds of opening chicken coops, Righty called out to me and I instantly heard Justin calling to him in my mind and I suddenly remembered what day today was. When Justin died almost seven years ago now, it was all up to me. As I packed up and threw out all his worldly possessions, all the things he held dear and all the things he thought made him who he was, I realized that it was up to me, and me alone, to keep who he truly was alive and share it with others. He was a rough-as-guts musician who could annoy me like no one else, but he was also a man with a heart big enough to feed lambs at 2am, stop traffic for a dog walking across the road and stay up all night worrying about a precious white cat who hadn’t come home yet. He was infuriating enough for me to hang the phone up on him countless times a day, yet he was also impossible to say no to when he would bring home yet another sheep and say, “one more wont hurt”.

He was a man who, in the last years of his life, formed a profound bond and love with sheep. He’d barely even thought about sheep before Lefty, Righty and Junior came in to our world and then life was all about sheep. It was sheep that made Justin love sheep, he was crazy about them.

These few select images are moments in time that portray the connection a human can have with animals, if they just open their heart and really see who they are. It’s also a look at the other person who created Lefty’s Place alongside me and will always be around me annoying me to take one more sheep: “One more won’t hurt, Tam”. He used to call me “Chicken Nut” and I do wonder how many swear words he’d yell if he saw how many chickens I have now. 


Lefty died back in 2013. Righty died today. My clever old friend put his head in my lap as he drifted onwards. I have lots more to say, but I just wanted to mark this day here with the last photo I took of him. This place will not be the same without him, nor will my heart.

The sheep family have been in to Righty’s paddock to see his body. Righty’s just been buried and now they don’t want to leave.


Since Justin’s death Tamara has run the sanctuary on her own, caring for 120 chickens, 29 sheep, four horses, three cats and two dogs, funded by donations and her own funds. She’s a professional photographer focusing on animal rights and rescued animals from farms and lots of people (farmers etc) “hate me. In 2018, my turkeys and ducks were killed by trespassers after I went on national TV exposing a poultry abattoir.”


Who do I think “owns” this amazing beautiful place? No one. Places like this can’t be owned. Who do the duck shooters think “owns” this beautiful place? THEM.

Walking past a group of male duck shooters, alone, as a female at this place is an incredibly brave thing to do. The air is pungent with hate and ownership. You will cop abuse. They do yell things out to you based on your gender and they do not take their eyes off you. The energy is intensively hateful. How dare you interrupt their boys club weekend. How dare you come into THEIR space. How dare you question what they do or how they do it. You are only a woman. Be careful – that’s what they say to you with their eyes as you walk past – be careful, we are watching you and we could do whatever we want to you. This is our place. Watch your back.

It is yet another year where our government in Victoria has turned a blind eye to all recommendations and let camouflaged morons with big guns out on to the wetlands to kill ducks. They don’t just kill ducks, they kill whatever they see including swans, birds, pelicans etc. Disgrace.


Unrescued Hen

She was one of the sweet ones, she quietly talked to me while I took some photos. She quietly talked to me as I tried to pull out that crate to get her out. She quietly talked to me whilst three of us tried to pull the crate out. She quietly talked to me whilst we tried to cut her out and she quietly talked to me when I had to walk away without her. 

Walking away and leaving them to their terrifying deaths is the worst thing in the world. I don’t forget these animals. I have a little place I keep their faces locked in my heart. If I access that place too often, I just can’t function. It’s literally taken me years to edit this image because I just couldn’t deal with the fact that we couldn’t get her out. 

Photo taken at a poultry abattoir in Victoria. The Price Of Eggs


Starting A Sanctuary

I’ve got a lot of stories to tell you. I’ve got a lot of photographs to take of new residents. I have emails to write to thank you all. Tributes to write for animals departed. Enclosures to rewire. Coops to put up. Coops to spray. Pain relief to give. Sheep to feed. Feed to buy. Waste to dispose of. Enclosures to clean. Sick chickens to medicate and be there with in case they die. But right now, I’m just managing one animal problem after another and time is slipping through my fingers, so here is an old post about having a sanctuary. Lefty’s Place has never had as many residents as it does right now and I’m feeling it. The animals have to come first, but I see all your names when you donate and please know I do endeavour to write to you. 

No news tonight cause I am exhausted, but what I do want to write about is “starting a sanctuary”. I get countless messages and emails asking for advice on how to do this. Now, I am not the person to ask honestly because I run a tiny place with one person doing all the animal work and admin etc – this isn’t a normal sanctuary experience.

I was all about animals from the get go, there was no other path for me honestly. My true self is steeped in the world of animals and it always was.

Want to start a sanctuary? Be aware that every day is the same. Be aware that your days begin at dawn and end in the dark. Be aware that you can spend so much money on feed and vet bills in just one day that it will make your head spin. Be aware that animals  die and you have to come to terms with not only saving them, but also burying them. Be aware that you have to keep going – you can’t take animals in and give up on them. Be aware that people will dump animals on you and run. Be aware that you will cry more than you ever thought possible. Be aware that you will feel alone and isolated. Be aware that it’s not all selfies and cuddles. 

You need to be brave. You need to be committed and you need to be a little crazy, but most of all you need to be doing this because your heart gives you no other choice. Good luck! 

Oh also – please don’t start a sanctuary and just collect chickens to just be there because a sanctuary should have chickens. Learn about them, don’t let them suffer. Tell their stories. Know them.

Donations

Huge thank you to Clodagh whose donation allowed me to purchase two new big Eglu coops and I was able to get another small enclosure by throwing some of my money in as well. Lefty’s is currently drowning in vet bills and there was no way I was ever going to be able to afford any of these without her help.

My Heroes

I’m not impressed by men who flex their muscles and hold signs and flood Instagram with photos of themselves, they are not my heroes. I applaud, but do not put people who document animal agriculture on a pedestal, they are not my heroes. I value  people who get animals out of situations and then rehome them, but they are not my heroes. 

My heroes are those of you out there who take on these animals for the duration of their lives and tell their stories to the world. Those of you who make people love that little ex-battery hen or that old, weary ewe. Those of you who contact me in desperation looking for help, any help, to save their beloved chicken and suffer so much when they leave the world. Those of you who, day in and day out, care for these animals and give them a life worth living. Those of you who are full of integrity and truth. You are my heroes. Thank you for all that you do.


Thanks to Tamara Kenneally for sharing her stories and photos, used with permission.

For more info and to support Tamara’s work check out her photography page and Lefty’s Place Farm Sanctuary.

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