Barnyard Visits Teach Love for Furred and Feathered

Just off the Ventura Freeway on Corbin Avenue, there’s a white and green house with a big dirt yard where the animals talk and the humans listen.

Buddha the docile cow moos. Dunkin the 800-pound pig snorts. Rebecca the beakless chicken cluck-cluck-clucks.

And Ellie Callahan, the bubbly, brown-eyed human, understands the cow, the pig and the chicken as well as her other animals--including horses, sheep, goats and a goose.

Interpreting animal-speak to English, Callahan said Buddha wanted a hug, Dunkin a mud bath and Rebecca to be placed beside the love of her life, a blind chicken named Stevie Rae.

On this half-acre, within walking distance of the strip malls on Ventura Boulevard, Callahan has created a home for dozens of animals who were once starved and beaten, or bred for slaughter.

Callahan calls their home the Gentle Barn. Last January, she established it as a nonprofit refuge for abused animals and a place where she can teach humans, especially children, to respect and care for furred and feathered beings.

“I want to teach people that these are not dirty, stupid animals,” Callahan said. “I firmly believe that we are the same as animals. We feel happy, sad, scared and we have lots of love to give.”

Callahan lives in a neighborhood where zoning allows residents to keep barnyard animals. But while many homeowners use the extra land for tennis courts and pools, Callahan’s straw-strewn lot harks back to the San Fernando Valley’s agricultural origins, before post-war housing divided the area into middle-class suburbia.

“I love the country but because of employment needs, people need to stick to the city,” said Callahan, whose husband, Michael, works in the entertainment industry. “But I love the Valley because it has these agricultural pockets where you can see horse manure on the side of the road or goats in a backyard.”

Some of Callahan’s animals have disabilities, such as Rebecca the chicken, who lost most of her beak when a farmer chopped it off.

Grandpa Goat wobbles on crossed legs because his previous owner neglected to cut his hoofs, which grew so long the goat could not straighten his front legs. The long hoofs on his back legs forced Grandpa Goat to walk on his heels, causing his spine to curve.

She has two potbelly pigs, Barbie and Doogie, abandoned after their owners grew bored with the novelty of having pet pigs.

‘I Look at Animals and See God’

Callahan has rescued the chickens, goats, horses, sheep, pigs and cow from petting zoos, farms and slaughterhouses throughout Southern California. Although she finds abused animals at farms and petting zoos, it’s a network of animal lovers who notify her of cruelty cases. Dunkin the pig, for example, was a runt confined to a concrete slab on a Ventura County farm. Night after night, the animal would cry so loudly that a neighbor finally called Callahan, who finally bought the pink pig for $130.

She pays for the animals from her personal savings. A goat might cost her just $50. But she paid $2,000 for Buddha, unwanted because he was too small to be bred for beef. Callahan said most steers cost more than $10,000.

Sometimes she “guilts” owners to give her animals, like the time she found an old goat with a dirty matted coat and an infected, baseball-sized tumor.

“First the owners said I couldn’t have the goat,” Callahan recalled. “I told them I wasn’t going away. I told them that I would pay for her surgery, vitamins and minerals and regular visits from the vet. Finally, I got the goat.”

At the Gentle Barn, animals are groomed daily, get regular check-ups from veterinarians, eat top-quality food, take vitamins and minerals and, in some cases, receive deep-tissue massage therapy to soothe pains caused by abuse and deformities. Callahan estimated the average monthly cost for food and vet visits at $1,500.

Barnyard doors open to the public on weekends from 10 a.m. to noon and by appointment. Admission is free, but tax-deductible donations are accepted and go toward caring for the animals.

At age 4, Callahan got her first pet, an Australian shepherd named Simon. “He was my best friend in the whole world,” the 32-year-old recalled. “I’ve loved animals ever since.”

Callahan grew up on the East Coast and in the Midwest and studied psychology and special education before starting a shelter in the Valley for abused and unwanted dogs and cats. She dreams of raising enough money to open a grassy, two-acre barn where she could care for even more animals.

“I look at animals and see God,” Callahan said. “They give unconditional love. They don’t judge. They are kind, loving, peaceful and forgiving. They have all the qualities that I as a human strive for.”

Wearing denim and a straw hat, she devotes at least five hours each day to cleaning the barn and feeding, grooming, petting and talking to her animals. About once a week, Callahan gets help from Danielle Landau, an 8-year-old from Tarzana.

“I love how sweet the animals are,” Danielle said. “They’re great friends to have. They respond to me in their own special ways, it might be a nudge, an oink, a moo.”

Shortly after Danielle started volunteering at the Gentle Barn, she became a vegetarian. “I started to become good friends with some of the chickens,” the girl said. “I thought to myself, ‘These are my friends. Why am I eating them?’ ”

Although Callahan, her husband and toddler are vegans who don’t eat animal products, she said she doesn’t preach her beliefs to visitors. “I just let the animals do their work,” she said, smiling.

So far, at least 1,000 people, including children with disabilities and terminal illnesses, have visited the barn, fed the animals oats and hay, brushed their fur and hugged and kissed their new four-legged friends.

“Kids have so much love to give,” said Callahan, who particularly wants children with special needs to visit the barn. “The animals just give it back. They don’t care if a child is blind or sick. Sometimes, children can connect more deeply with the animals because of [the animals’] unconditional love and kindness.”

Teaching Children How Animals Talk

On a recent weekday morning, 16 children with life-threatening diseases gathered under the fruitless mulberry trees and listened as Callahan introduced them to animals many had never seen.

She told them that goats chew on clothes and shoelaces because they’re naturally curious and pigs take mud baths to cool off, and sometimes blow mud bubbles for fun.

Callahan taught the children that if a horse’s ears perk up, for instance, it means the horse is curious and welcoming. If the ears go back and the tail swishes, it means “go away.”

“They may not speak English or Spanish,” Callahan explained, “but they can talk with their bodies and sounds.”

The children ran into the barn, feeding goats and asking chickens and sheep if they wanted petting. They brushed an old horse named Shy and watched Dunkin take his mud bath.

“It’s sad when people cut off a pig’s ears and eat him,” said a 10-year-old girl, who had thought pigs came from the grocery store. “Who would want to eat Dunkin?”

At the other end of the barn, Katie, a black horse who suffered brutal beatings by a previous owner, cautiously approached a thin, freckle-faced boy.

“Hi Katie,” the 10-year-old boy said. “Can I pet you Katie? I promise to be nice.”

Katie’s ears perked.

“The black horse let me pet it,” the beaming boy said. “She liked me. She liked me.”

The Gentle Barn is at 6050 Corbin Ave. For operating hours call (818) 705-5477.