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The Veganpeace Animal Sanctuary A safe haven for food production animals that have escaped from slaughterhouses The Veganpeace Animal Sanctuary is a safe haven for food production animals that have escaped from slaughterhouses. Goats, turkeys, pigs and cows - live in peace in the barn and the 3 acres behind The Peace Abbey. An integral part of the educational programs of the Peace Abbey, Greater Boston Vegetarian Society, and the Strawberry Fields Alternative High School, it is also part of a larger movement that includes organizations such as Farm Sanctuary and the newly established Maple Farm Sanctuary in Mendon, MA. The Veganpeace Animal Sanctuary was also once home to our most famous friend, Emily the Cow. Emily passed away at age ten from cancer and was buried on the Peace Abbey grounds. Read more about Emily the Sacred Cow here. 
MATTI'S STORY By Tiffany Matti was born on a sheep farm in Millis, Massachusetts at the end of lambing season. She and her twin sister were the last lambs to be born on the farm and were born too late in the season to be sold off for the Easter tradition. I came to check on the ewe with my niece Megan to find that they had been born five minutes before we arrived. It was not too long after that when we realized both lambs were born with a sickness. Selenium/Vitamin E deficiency or Stiff Lamb Disease is common among sheep. This disease is the result of degeneration of skeletal and cardiac muscles. The treatment is a selenium and vitamin E injection, which both lambs were given shortly after they were diagnosed. However, injecting the right amount of selenium is imperative because too much is toxic to the lambs and results in sudden death. Matti's sister immediately improved after being given the injection and soon after that she began walking and even nursing. Matti, however, did not do quite as well. It took all the energy she had to attempt to stand and she was never able to nurse. I called her Bambi because she could hardly stand. After having had much human attention, the mother rejected her and when the mother was no longer isolated from the other ewes, Matti remained by herself. When she was prompted to join the other sheep she found her way back to the empty stall where she was born. From the beginning I treated her like the mother she would not have. Animals that are sick and lack affection have much less success rates. I had recently nursed another lamb back to health a few weeks prior. One day he was sold and I did not get a chance to say goodbye. I was looking for something to fill the space. Every chance I got I visited Matti. She would hear me pull up and come stumbling to the door waiting for her milk. She ate excessive amounts because she knew as long as she was drinking I would be with her. She seemed to be making a comeback. She still did not have an adequate amount of the vitamin in her system. The owner of the flock said he had given her another shot of the selenium. Shortly thereafter, her health began to decline again. She was shaking, was sick to her stomach, and could not walk well. He was about to give her another shot but I told him not to because she already seemed to have been suffering from toxicity. As we were treating her, the sister would come poking around the corner to see what was going on. I was going to leave her for the night when a friend told me to go back in. Certain she would die that night. I went home and got her a blanket that most resembled a sheep's fleece. I brought it to her and stayed with her a while, trying to make her feel comfortable and loved. I visited her again in the early hours of morning. Her mouth was cold, which usually indicates that death is eminent. I went home and said a Buddhist chant for her. When I returned the next morning she was out of the stall, bouncing around, looking healthy as ever. Miraculously she had recovered overnight. The owner said it must have been the blanket. I left it with her for a few days and she slept on it every night. Her sister would crawl under her gate to sleep with Matti at night. Not long after that she was going for walks with me outside and playing with my dog to regain strength. I was certain it was a success story. Then one afternoon when I went to visit her, the owner said that when she reached 35 pounds she would be sold. I asked why after having saved her life would it be taken away and I was told that she was not fit to be in the flock. I could not argue with that. She was not healthy enough to be bred. The friend who alerted me that I should stay with her that night was the same friend who told me about the Peace Abbey. He said I should look into seeing if they would adopt her. My neighbor and I came here one day and left a note to call me if they were interested in adopting my lamb. I did not hear back from them. Coincidently, the founder of the Abbey and I had a mutual friend whom I had met during my years as a human rights activist in school. She mentioned the lamb to them and they called me right away. My hope was that they would adopt the sister, who was going to be sold, so that Matti would have a companion. Without asking, Lewis and Meg offered to adopt her too. The farm owner gifted both of them to the Peace Abbey and the story ended happily. This experience has been deeper for me than merely saving the lamb from the slaughter. I was connected to a community of people who shared the same convictions as mine at a time when one feels alone in this world if he stands for peace. Our society has conditioned us to hate those who oppose our ideals and we are ridiculed for embracing tolerance. But beyond that, we have been taught to lack compassion for even the most innocent of creatures. Nature does not wage war on man. Animals remind us of our lost innocence. Sheep, goats, cows, and other domesticated animals were the reasons why people were able to develop into large civilizations and we should forever be indebted to them. Since then, however, mankind has developed great technologies in farming and sustenance that we can no longer say that the breeding of domesticated animals is for survival. Matti did not make it to the Easter table. She is a reminder to all that visit the Abbey that the more you look into the eye of the other, the more difficult it is to cause them harm. We do not have to look into the eyes of the "enemies" we are at war with, nor do we have to look into the eye of the food we eat. But we always have to look at ourselves. Our purpose on this earth is not to be good consumers, but good citizens. I also believe that Matti's purpose was not to be bred for one meal but to be the inspiration for many people, as she has been to me and the members of the Peace Abbey. There was always something special in Matti's eye. Perhaps it is because I love her like a daughter. But I think everyone can agree she is special. WARNING: EXPLICIT IMAGES OF SLAUGHTERHOUSE SCENES. 13 REASONS NOT TO EAT MEAT. THIS IS WHAT EMILY THE COW ESCAPED.
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Two turkeys named “Thanks” and “Giving”
were lucky birds. Neither genetically manipulated to grow plump
and fast, nor dumped onto a conveyor belt and, fully conscious,
hung by their feet from metal shackles, they found safe haven in
a peaceable kingdom instead. 
Like Wilbur of Charlotte's Web, Babe's next-to-last piglet, Henry
VIII, may think “Life in the barn [is] very good -- night
and day, winter and summer, spring and fall, dull days and bright
days... the best place to be... with the garrulous geese, the changing
seasons, the heat of the sun, the passage of swallows, the nearness
of rats, the sameness of sheep, the love of spiders, the smell of
manure and the glory of everything.”