07/06/2026
Some of you may find this post upsetting, and believe me, this is a watered-down version of what we’ve been living through here at the sanctuary.
This year, after four years of narcissistic abuse, I decided to open my doors to volunteers as part of my recovery and my efforts to rebuild faith and trust in people. I offered free accommodation in return for a few hours of work each day, as I was finally no longer being controlled over who could volunteer and desperately needed the help so that I could focus more on building a business that could try to sustain the sanctuary 🙆♀️
It was a wonderful way to keep the sanctuary looking its best, while allowing me to get back to work earning much-needed income and spending more time caring for my flock of almost 300 sheep.
Since my toxic ex packed up and fled the country, I’ve been left dealing with the debt he defaulted on. Mountains of mail arrive daily, along with constant knocks at the door from recovery firms. It prolongs the healing process and leaves you questioning how someone can be so selfish and cruel.
But I kept going.
I fought through the tears, the worry, and the overwhelming fear of how I could keep the sanctuary running when my heart felt shattered into a million pieces. My sheep give me purpose. They give me a reason to keep fighting.
The volunteer programme was going well. Yes, there were a few people who seemed more interested in a free stay than helping, and one person even thought it was acceptable to empty our donations tub. But for the most part, the volunteers were here for the right reasons.
Until mid-May.
Both Storm and I were devastated by the loss of one of our much-loved feral cats. It hit us incredibly hard. The following day, volunteers were due to arrive, and my instinct was to cancel because I knew I would be emotional. However, I didn’t want to let anyone down, so I welcomed them despite my grief.
I apologised for being upset, but I was met with very little empathy. I tried to give the benefit of the doubt and assumed perhaps she was just shy or quiet.
At the same time, I was struggling with a couple of sheep and explained that I had a vet booked to help me make the difficult decision about whether one should be put to sleep.
I also explained that I regularly seek veterinary advice for sheep who are unwell, recovering from illness, or living with disabilities. Animal welfare is always my priority, and the authorities rightly hold sanctuaries to high standards.
The vet visited the following day. Together, we made the heartbreaking decision to let one sheep go. We also examined the remaining sheep indoors and checked two others who were awaiting hoof surgery.
Anyone who had stayed and observed would have seen all of this.
At the same time, my daughter was going through personal difficulties and was understandably emotional herself. But that’s sanctuary life. No matter what is happening in your own world, the animals still need you. You still have to show up every day and keep going through every heartbreak and challenge.
Perhaps it was all too much for these volunteers. Maybe they expected sunshine, roses, and 300 perfectly healthy sheep frolicking happily into the sunset.
I honestly don’t know.
What I do know is that we had two other wonderful volunteers camping here at the same time. They witnessed everything and responded with kindness, understanding, and compassion.
However, on the second day, a friend of one of the volunteers arrived. I immediately sensed a negative atmosphere when she didn’t even greet me.
Not long afterwards, I noticed they had packed up and left without saying a word.
Confused, I sent a text asking if they had left.
It was read.
No reply.
And unfortunately, this is where things get worse.
Last Friday, I received a call from Animal Welfare informing me that a report had been made on 19th May — the very day they left.
I was told it was unusual that the complaint had not been made directly to Animal Welfare, but instead escalated straight to DEFRA.
The report alleged that I had animals living in unsuitable conditions, including blind and lame sheep covered in faeces.
For four days leading up to the inspection, I lived through absolute hell. I barely slept. I barely ate. The anxiety was overwhelming. I feared for the safety of the animals I love so much.
The inspection took place and I passed with no issues whatsoever.
In fact, the inspector complimented the sanctuary, saying how lovely the areas were and how obvious the care, thought, and effort put into everything had been.
At this time of year, as the grass grows, most of the sheep return to the fields for summer grazing. The only sheep kept indoors are those who are not yet well enough to be outside.
We are a sanctuary. That means there will always be animals here who are elderly, disabled, recovering from illness, or facing health challenges.
What saddens me most is that if these people had approached me with concerns, I would have happily discussed them. If I genuinely believed anything I was doing was harmful to animals, would I openly invite people to see every aspect of the sanctuary?
I am incredibly proud of the work, dedication, and love that goes into caring for our sheep. If the day ever comes when I cannot provide them with the care they deserve, or if I cannot help them recover from illness or injury, then however heartbreaking it may be, I will always do what is right for them.
But the actions of these two individuals have done more than threaten the future of our rescues.
They have forced me to relive past trauma.
They have damaged the trust I have worked so hard to rebuild over the last five months.
They have made me question the kindness and integrity of people once again.
As a result, I have made the difficult decision to close our sheep-hugging sessions for the time being. I will honour all existing bookings, but right now I need time to recover from this latest attack and focus on protecting the animals in my care.
I am also closing the volunteer programme for the remainder of June.
The actions of two people have not only threatened the welfare of our rescues but have also ruined opportunities for others who genuinely wanted to help.
Financially, this will make life even harder. Our workload will increase, leaving less time to run income-generating activities. We will also lose income from sheep-hugging sessions at one of the busiest times of the year.
I need this next month to regroup, regain my footing, and make some difficult decisions about how I can continue keeping this sanctuary running.
To everyone who was planning to volunteer or book a sheep-hugging session, I am truly sorry. I hope you can understand my reasons. 🥲
I take great pride in my love and dedication to these animals. Perhaps I am too open and honest, allowing people to see every corner of the sanctuary and experience the raw realities and emotions that come with caring for rescued animals.
With hay harvesting just around the corner, I need to purchase between 300 and 400 bales to get us through winter. That’s before factoring in hard feed, straw, medication, and veterinary care.
Because of this, I have launched our Winter Hay Appeal 2026.
https://gofund.me/f484a5b19
If I need to redirect my business model to better protect and fund my sheep, then that’s exactly what I’ll do.
This coming week, I’ll be restarting my rug-making and wool projects, and I’ll be sharing them here on Facebook in the hope of building a sustainable business that supports our sheep rather than putting them at risk.
www.sheepsanctuary.com
I ask, if you can, please share my work and help spread the word. Despite everything that has happened, I know there are still thousands of wonderful, caring, compassionate people out there.
Thank you for continuing to stand by us. ❤️
After the last few weeks, my anxiety levels have rocketed and over the last few days I literally have been in tears and totally burnt out physically and mentally
All because of the actions of someone who supposedly came to support a struggling sanctuary. I feel so deflated that another human could put the lives of animals that I adore, animals that I have sacrificed my own life for at risk.
🥲
