As flames roared into communities on all sides of Los Angeles last week, and tens of thousands of residents rushed to evacuate, trailers across southern California were being hitched and trucks fueled. A network of volunteers was preparing to descend on the fire zones, ready to risk it all to save pets and livestock in need.
In the rural enclaves tucked close to the canyons most prime to burn, scores of animals – horses, goats, pigs, chickens, and even emus among them – were in danger as the fast-moving fires swept closer. Some had been left behind during chaotic evacuations. Others required large trailers or a gentle hand to calmly coax them through the terror caused by howling winds, ashen air and the very strangers desperately trying to get them to safety.
These strangers had quickly stepped up to answer calls for help. Mobilizing through social media pages or elaborate phone trees, they worked through the nights, driving into burning hillsides and through scorched wreckage. For some, it’s not the first time they’ve gone willingly into the fray.
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Wildfires across California have surged in intensity in recent years, accenting the need for rapid response for animals and people alike. The work is fraught with danger and laced with heartbreak, but it speaks to how willing some are to help in times of unspeakable need.
“I have been talking nonstop to people I have never even met,” said Brittany “Cole” Bush, the founder of Shepherdess Land & Livestock, a ranch in the Ojai Valley that uses grazing animals to reduce the risk of wildfires in southern California, describing the groundswell of action from far and wide that coalesced around the emergencies in LA this week.
Her phone was ringing off the hook after she posted on social media offering her trailers and herding expertise last Wednesday, just as new fire starts erupted into behemoths. Bush and one of her shepherds headed into the night, traversing precarious winding roads in an evacuation area, darkened by power outages. An entire farm needed to evacuate, including a herd of sheep that had spent little time around people, in remote hillsides they called home.
Air sirens wailed through the area as police whipped past homes warning that the fire was near. The frenetic conditions weren’t conducive to lulling frightened sheep into small enclosures, she said: “I knew we have one shot to do this where we don’t elevate the adrenaline of these animals. Once the animals are scared it becomes incredibly hard for it to become their idea to do what we want them to – to get on a trailer fast.”
Bit by bit, they countered the chaos with calm and were able to lure the animals in. A more hastened round-up of some ducks, housed in a crate and put in the backseat of the truck, and they were on their way out.
But it doesn’t always end this way. The fires came so quickly in some areas, that owners abandoned hopes of getting frightened horses into trailers, opting instead to walk them out along the steep roads. One man shared a now viral video escorting his horses and small donkeys through burning the mountains by motorbike, shortly before his ranch was reduced to rubble. Others were tragically left behind.
“The very first night there was a call for 40 horses – 32 of them perished,” said Austin Muhs, a Santa Monica local who, in recent years, established a network of animal evacuation from disaster zones. “By the time we got there it was too late.”
The horses had been locked into corrals and left unable to flee.
“People think they are doing the right thing in an emergency situation and it ends up being the completely wrong thing to do,” Elizabeth Brandon, a member of Muhs team added. One horse they encountered was alive but badly burned, her mane and tail singed off.
Thankfully, Flicca, as they are now calling her, was able to get out and get the veterinary attention she needs.
Muhs and Brandon have also helped coordinate efforts, including enlisting the help of Brady Heiser who had been doing animal rescue on his own. He described terrifying moments navigating inflamed trees on the roads, and challenges convincing animals to trust him when time was of the essence. But throughout it all, caravans of trailers were at the ready, in a show of unwavering support from within the community and beyond.
“As fast as you could get trailers in there, they were loaded and gone,” he said. “It was a convoy of incredible people.” The teams are still in action, running on fumes, he added during drop-offs on Monday. His trailer has helped carry a menagerie of animals out of the danger zone, from mini highland cows to an enormous 175lb pig named Fancypants.
“I have never known anything with a name like that, that can fight like this pig did,” he said, describing how the terrified and stubborn pig screamed when they tried to get her into the trailer. She’d only ever known the pen she shared with her friends – a dozen chickens that also needed saving. “I feel her pain,” Heiser said. “If I saw three people of our size walking toward me with ropes I would be screaming too.”
Fancypants and the thousands of other animals saved from the fires this week are now resting easy away from the danger. But for many who took part in rescuing them, there’s more work to be done. The animals affected by burns or smoke inhalation will need extra care. Some animals, released in a last-act of desperation, will need to be reunited with their owners. And, some will need to be ferried back to their homes once the risks have subsided.
Rescuers have taken on high costs, both with their own safety, and the fuel and feed they are expending to support the animals in need. Bush said even as they prepare for another round of possible evacuations with strong winds again in the forecasts, she and others are looking to the future.
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“This is the cleanup,” she said. “Right now we are coordinating how to get animals from evacuation centers back home, or if they can’t go home, where can we place them. That’s the focus as well as providing major resources for these shelters, feed, hauling.”
A couple hours away from Los Angeles in Ojai, which has its own fire risks, Bush is also thinking deeply about how to build resilience and coordination for future fires. She’s already begun compiling a directory of who has land and infrastructure to receive animals in her area, along with trucks and trailers for evacuation, and raising money to support those who’ve taken animals in.
And, in the rare moments of stillness this week, she’s also tried to pause to take stock. Despite the tragedies that are still unfolding, these disasters showcased the community’s capacity for good.
“There are a lot of beautiful and positive things coming from this,” she said, watching the ducks as they happily acclimated to their new surroundings in a kiddie pool that was quickly donated by a neighbor.
On the night of the rescue, she drove home to her ranch under a brightly shining moon and uploaded the sheep into a pasture near her own. As they began to settle in, the big ram – one whose owners said wasn’t fond of people – nuzzled in close. Bush said it felt as if he was thanking her for saving his family.
“After the heightened fray of it all there is a moment of, oh gosh, softness and peace,” she said, “when you have successfully taken animals out of harm’s way.”