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Jen Korz, executive director for Heartland Farm Sanctuary, gets some love from Sunflower, a Lamancha goat, with Sunflower's daughter, Ash, at right. Their "goat coats" are one of many tools used to keep the farm's 80 animals warm during the cold Wisconsin winter.
When the temperature falls at Heartland Farm Sanctuary in Verona, it’s easy to walk past a pile of straw and think nothing of it.
But give that pile of straw a poke, and three pigs cuddled up together under blankets emerge, curious whether they’ll get a snack before nestling back under the straw against the winter chill.
Real-life “pigs in a blanket,” they’re among about 80 animals being prepared for the coming cold weather at the sanctuary, which provides specialized care for rescued farm animals combined with educational and therapy programs for humans, aimed at engendering empathy and compassion.
The blankets are stitched by volunteers with First Unitarian Society in Madison. Other pigs get special earmuffs to keep their long, droopy ears warm and dry, with additional accommodations made to protect the emus, ducks, llamas and others animals.
While household pets get to curl up in laps or by the fire, the season poses a unique challenge for farm animals hunkered down at sanctuaries like Heartland, said Jen Korz, its executive director.
Pigs snuggle under blankets in a barn stall at Heartland Farm Sanctuary in Verona. The sanctuary's pigs can use up to five blankets and plenty of straw in the wintertime.
“Farm animals have similar needs,” Korz said. “They need access to shelter. They need quality food. They need social relationships, and they need to have shelter.”
Founded in 2010, Heartland has grown from two goats to 12 different species, 20 full-time staff and scores of volunteers.
Overlooking a gorgeous pasture off of Mid Town Road, the sanctuary’s uninsulated, unheated horse barn, which houses many of the animals, poses challenges in the winter. The building has to be covered in plywood and plastic sheeting, plenty of extra bedding is purchased and staff must return to check in on the animals overnight.
“We do have the conversation of, ‘What do we need to insulate the building?’” Korz said. “It’s building up the sides of the goat shelter in the pasture. We’ve got plywood and hammers and nails everywhere. It’s like boarding up for a hurricane.”
Each species presents its own needs for enduring the cold. Birds are most susceptible. The site’s seven emus are protected in a tent insulated with tarps. Smaller fowl, like chickens, are kept in a heated shed and occasionally taken home with staff on winter’s most brutal days.
Assistant medical supervisor Jenni Vance shepherds ducks to another area as she prepares to clean a stall. Birds are the most vulnerable to colder temperatures, and many of Heartland's birds are kept in heated sheds.
Cows, on the other hand, are completely different. Heartland’s two cows, Beau and Daisy, are able to keep themselves heated through the methane they produce or by staying in a nearby cow shed.
Heartland is an animal sanctuary unlike any other in Wisconsin. Many of its animals were abused or simply abandoned. Others come from caring owners who either died or were unable to care for them.
Take Maxwell the pig. As a tiny piglet, Maxwell bounced off a transport truck on the interstate in 2019. A passerby rushed the Yorkshire pig to a veterinarian, where his wounds were treated and he was later housed by an employee. Maxwell continued to suffer health problems even after arriving at Heartland, but eventually recovered and is now 4-foot high, 650-pound “spunky” pig.
Jen Korz, executive director of Heartland Farm Sanctuary, tries to get the attention of Maxwell, a Yorkshire pig. Maxwell first came to the sanctuary after falling off a transit truck as a tiny piglet.
Like his fellow pigs, Maxwell is kept warm with plentiful straw and wears earmuffs in the colder months. He’s also given extra salad and grains in the winter like many of the animals at Heartland.
The challenges are even greater for Heartland’s seven goats and one horse, Cookie.
Born with dwarfism, Cookie gets extra bedding, food and a specially designed coat. Bundled up, Cookie can still get some outdoors time as she trots around her stable, getting fed and lying on her favorite rainbow rug.
“She knows that when she’s on the rainbow rug she gets food,” said Michelle Hogan, an animal care staffer at Heartland.
But keeping Cookie and the goats warm poses special health challenges when it’s cold, Korz emphasized.
“It’s actually not good for them to be in goat coats all the time,” she said. “It prevents their natural fur from growing in the way it needs to grow.”
The quotidian lives of the animals are not the only thing the winter changes at Heartland. Over the years, the sanctuary has offered a range of clubs and therapy programs for children and adults in partnership with the animals.
The exercises can teach children not only how to care for animals, but how to look after those with special needs.
Emus venture outside the barn at Heartland. The sanctuary's seven emus are mostly kept inside the barn, which is insulated with tarps.
In order to learn about how ducks used their beaks, for example, one group created mud trays to feed peas and treats to the ducks. But then the group had to decide how to make those trays easy to use for some of the sanctuary’s visually impaired ducks.
“The kids came up with auditory clues, tapping on the tray,” Korz said. “They put the tray on foam pads so the ducks know this foam pad means there’s food. You’re teaching them about accessibility. You’re teaching them about inclusion.”
Yet it is the sanctuary’s therapy programs that face the biggest setbacks during winter. The brutal cold sometimes leads to canceled therapy sessions between animals and children who may have cognitive or emotional needs. Heartland’s caseloads have only grown during COVID-19 too, going from five children in therapy to more than 20, Korz said.
“Being outside is part of what we do,” she said. “But being limited to only outside with no access to come and get warm is what’s so challenging.”
Though challenges abound, Korz said knowing that both animals and people are depending on her and staff keeps them driven and compassionate.
“We are inspired to act on the empathy that we feel for the therapy participants that come here, for every single animal that walks through our barn doors,” she said. “We see them and want to provide sanctuary for them, and that’s motivation enough.”
Jen Korz, executive director at Heartland, peeks in on the emus in a tarped shelter inside the barn.
While I only started at the State Journal as a breaking news reporter in August, my four short months here haven't lacked exhilarating stories and in-depth dives into the community.
My very first day on the job the United States pulled out of Afghanistan. Though naturally I didn't expect it, the ripple effect of that withdrawal colored my reporting at the State Journal more than anything else.
I've highlighted two stories regarding Afghanistan for this collection. The first is a story my colleague Emily Hamer and I wrote about conditions faced by Afghans at Fort McCoy, the U.S. Army base in Sparta that has housed nearly 13,000 refugees since the withdrawal.
The second is a profile of local Afghan War veterans (also written by Emily and me) and their reflections on the twenty year conflict's legacy. That story ran on Veterans Day.
The rest of my reporting in Madison has bounced from features, spot news and crime stories.
My recent profile of the Latino residents on the city's North Side is likely my favorite story of the year. I made it a personal priority to help cover the city's Latino community when I arrived in Madison. I hope this portrait of sluggish economic development on the North Side is one of many stories to come.
Another story I enjoyed covering was the "commencement ceremony" thrown for the Class of 2020 in September. Over a year delayed, that event was my first time at Camp Randall and really reminded me of how much tradition young people were denied throughout the pandemic.
Finally, I included my coverage (with an assist from Kelly Meyerhofer) of the Kyle Rittenhouse verdict. It was hard to know what the trial exactly meant for Madison. But activists at Penn Park that night felt there was a double standard between Rittenhouse's ordeal and how the Madison Police Department had responded to incidents involving Black teenagers in the weeks before the verdict.
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Lucas Robinson covers breaking news for the Wisconsin State Journal. He can be reached at (608) 252-6186.
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In a series of letters and press releases, County Executive Joe Parisi blasted the organization.
Jen Korz, executive director for Heartland Farm Sanctuary, gets some love from Sunflower, a Lamancha goat, with Sunflower's daughter, Ash, at right. Their "goat coats" are one of many tools used to keep the farm's 80 animals warm during the cold Wisconsin winter.
Jen Korz, executive director of Heartland Farm Sanctuary, tries to get the attention of Maxwell, a Yorkshire pig. Maxwell first came to the sanctuary after falling off a transit truck as a tiny piglet.
Pigs snuggle under blankets in a barn stall at Heartland Farm Sanctuary in Verona. The sanctuary's pigs can use up to five blankets and plenty of straw in the wintertime.
Emus venture outside the barn at Heartland. The sanctuary's seven emus are mostly kept inside the barn, which is insulated with tarps.
Assistant medical supervisor Jenni Vance shepherds ducks to another area as she prepares to clean a stall. Birds are the most vulnerable to colder temperatures, and many of Heartland's birds are kept in heated sheds.
Jen Korz, executive director at Heartland, peeks in on the emus in a tarped shelter inside the barn.
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