If you are active in harvesting social media, chances are you have already stumbled upon a charming B&B, replete with llamas and a unique marketing concept, all connected to the Southeast Llama Rescue organization. A complete package, and it just doesn't get any better, from a client and a marketing perspective. Located in Grantville, OH at 4058 Columbus Road SW, Orchard House, from my views of it on Facebook, looks like a must visit place to stay. With 971 Likes, 47 People Talking About It, and 46 People Were Here stats, I'm guessing this is a place I would like to visit and stay a while.
But what really convinced me (2 things, actually) was their connection to SLR and their mission statement:
We are not only stewards for the llamas at Orchard House, but have a responsibility to help those in need of a safe home, free from hunger and fear. We are happy to offer some help, while also educating the public about SELR and the llamas they protect.
A gotcha moment. They have me. More importantly, they have my future business as a destination trip. For all my friends in our camelid community, there's a rock solid marketing message here. I love that Orchard House commits to a stewardship at several levels:
providing a safe haven for man and llamas on site;
engaging in llama education (huge and we just do not do this enough--always exceptions to the rule, but let's face it, most of us fall short on outreach);
collaborating with a rescue organization close to their facility.
In my way of looking at the farm world in which I share my life with my husband, 3 house cats, a barn cat, and 6 on-site llamas, I would NOT hesitate to visit Orchard House. It's on my bucket list and in my Pinterest account. If you are looking for creative ways to give, Orchard House is an interesting model, fascinating, really, because they implicitly understand that to get (traffic flow) they give. That ancient concept, give to get. Love it. Love Orchard House. Wish people who are looking for new marketing avenues would take a look at this engaging opportunity for creating collaboration in the camelid community at several levels. BRAVO! (and I love the way your images appear on your website--nice use of technology).
Before we rescued her, Allie Cat lived in a cage for 7 months in a no-kill shelter. Being released to a two-story big barn with hay igloos, discarded fur coats for beds, and a variety of store-made cat beds must seem like reaching feline nirvana. We love Allie Cat, but like my husband's one-and-only, Maggie, Allie Cat is all mine. She likes being petted and fussed about by visitors, but only minimally. She knows the hand that feeds her, and anyone else's might just get bitten. We warn our cat-loving friends, but most of them remind me of a classic high school population--it's not going to happen to me. And you couldn't be more wrong.
What I love about Allie Cat is her ability to find grace in small things. Despite the luxury of the big barn, she will opt for a shoe box top on which she nests, balances, and begs for attention. Rub my belly, please. She lives well, eats well, and is a world-class mouser. For people who think keeping a barn cat is not fair to the animal (I used to be one of those years ago), I would tell you that this cat has a better life than most, one that rivals my indoor cats' lifestyles, or perhaps even betters it. Allie Cat can choose outside, but only suns herself and visits occasionally. She loves the life she leads, sleeping on golf carts, grain bins, and whatever her fancy chooses.
On the other hand, we have 2 indoor cats, one of whom escaped to the great outdoors for the first time ever, and she explored no further than the back porch. She loves looking at nature in the sun room, through a screen or a winter large glass window, but that's the extend of her roaming. Her several hour escapade is what prompted this post. I have often wondered about the happiness and well-being of our pets ~ from their point of view ~ do they enjoy their lives. My husband thinks I've gone over the edge; how could they not, he queries rhetorically.
While I type, Maggie Cat is making up to Mickey. She loves Mickey most. She was another rescue, like all our cats, but this one was hand-picked for us by a friend who knew we could handle a special-needs kitten. And we did. The rest is history. Once in your lifetime, if you are very lucky, you find the perfect _____ (fill in the blank with the animal of your choice). I've had the perfect horse, the perfect dog, and now the perfect cat, a perennial kitten who, like Mary Martin's Peter Pan never quite grew up into a full-fledged cat (oxymoron here?). And when it comes right down to it, all 3 cats have the ability for finding grace in small things. What we can learn from our pets....
She will never win a best in show, but when it comes to the best overall cat and best in the barn, Allie Cat wins hands down and thumbs up. Allie is a rescue via my thoroughbred horse breeder friend Carol (3 Carols in my life). I wanted to rescue a cat that would live a fabulous life in our very large two-story barn. No takers. Shelters want all their cats to live indoors. I welcomed their visit to the farm to see where this cat would live. No takers. You need to know that Allie Cat has 2 big fur coats as bedding, had 3 different types of beds, and in winter, she is never cold because I make a hay igloo where she sleeps and stays remarkably warm, even when temperatures fall into the minus category. Fans in summer, great food, lots of love.
So I called Carol and she found me Allie, who had lived in a cage for 7 months in a no-kill shelter. Being left to do her thing in a big barn must seem like heaven. Food and water 24/7. Many house cats do not live so well. By choice, she NEVER leaves the barn, occasionally venturing to the concrete pads, but never farther. Our work crew is amazed at how friendly she is and her staying power. She is a great mouser, and a really great cat. Llama protector. Best in the barn, easy keeper. Gotta love her!
Almost all of my posts about life on the farm focus on the outside, but today I am tackling this post inside out (as soon as the MAC pinwheel disappears). When you think farm, you think animals and the progression usually moves to barns, pastures, fences, thinking outside, conjuring images of sheep, goats, cattle, horses, dogs.... Today, thinking outside the box, we're moving inside. Let's start with the house cats. Our tabby, Nina, weighs in at an unhealthy 20 pounds; Mamma Cat defines her household status and her role. Nina vets all the dogs, walking up to them, putting her nose on theirs, as it to say, okay, you're a keeper; you pass the test. Nina is the boss of the household (funny, I thought I was). Although it may be hard to tell from this photo, 6 years later, Nina still grooms Maggie, who consequently does not know how to do so herself.
Although she has never given birth, Nina adopted Maggie from the moment she entered our household. Maggie was a special needs cat. At 9 weeks, she fit inside my hand. She was born without a tail but with an extra vertabra, making her silhoutte regal with a high arch. Any creature who began life so challenged (the only kitten to survive in her small litter) deserves a wonderful life, unchallenged by complications. But Maggie nearly died twice; the first time from a single prescription eye drop. I was holding her in my arms as she went limp. Miraculously, the vets (local and UPenn Small Animal Clinic) saved her, only to have her go plantigrade several months later. She hopped like the rabbit she almost resembled, and again we took her to UPenn. They could do nothing for her, but once again, like a miracle, three day later, she was normal and has remained so ever since. Weighing in at a long and lean 9 pounds, she is the joy of our life and definitely Mickey's cat. She is good about sharing her love, and still falls asleep on my chest, but, make no mistake: she's Mickey's girl.
How soon she forgot who took care of her for her first 3 months when she arrived. Does she remember that I slept on the pull-out bed downstairs all summer so she would have company? That's my girl.
Definitely not Mickey's girl is my dog Julie. She, too, was adopted, actually from the same very generous woman who gave us Maggie. Julie is an all-black (reminds me of the NZ soccer team) GSD and Labrador Retriever mix. A true hybrid, she carries a toy with her wherever she goes, is loving and great with children and guests, but is preternaturally protective of her farm and family. She is never off a leash, because her GSD instincts make her 120 pounds of reckoning. This photo was taken last winter; she has added some pounds since then, making her even more formidable looking. Clearly I need to add more inside images to my collection.
Moving to the outside (you thought you'd see animals here, right) presents the classic farm paradigm: problems with keeping equipment running. No matter how many tractors you have, normal use needs normal maintenance. Fortunately for me, I have the BEST help, bar none. Albert was cutting the orchard grass in the pasture, top trimming, when the bottom cutting tray just dropped off. Lucky for all of us, Titus was driving by. He's a great mechanic and a tremendous help while Albert battles gout in his one wrist (and he's still moving all these acres; told you I had great help).
Curious as their gene pool makes them, the girls just could not be keep out of the action. Although I did not capture the quintessential picture, Tess tried diligently to get as close as she could to the boys and the tractor. One of my earliest memories of Tess and Rev was how as young crias they edged under Carol's fence to get as close as they could to a mother and her new-born cria. Their inquisitiveness has never faltered. If something is going on, they desperately want to be part of it. That's what I LOVE about these two. Missing is Cierra, and since I just spoke with Carol, we are reasonably certain she is pregnant, and that is good news indeed.
The last image is definitely outside, almost an anomaly. If you look very closely, you will notice a light on two trees. Considering that I snapped this shot at 9:30 this morning, the lights foreshadow grey storm clouds gathering overhead, generating a scary storm warning for the PM forecast. Mercifully, we escaped damage and the girls are safe. I hate hurricane season, and although we are not in the Weather Channel's usual doom-and-gloom predictions, today was an exception that gave pause for prayer. We are not safely out of the warning until 8 PM, so the countdown to safety continues.
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