Read Forgiveness's Story ^{(In Memoriam)}

Forgiveness was born at a dairy factory farm and taken away from his mom at a day old. He was then put in a veal crate where he could not move and was completely alone. By the time he was eight weeks old and sent to auction, he was too sick to stand, and we were asked to take him off of their hands along with five others. This was our very first veal calf rescue, so as Jay was driving them home, I called around to different large sanctuaries to ask them what we should have, buy, get, or know. Each of the other sanctuaries told me that the only thing I should know is that they would die. I was stunned! Refusing to take this advice I figured that they probably die because they have nothing to live for. They feel awful, they have no love in their lives, and why would they choose to live? I had to give them something to live for, to aid in the healing process. So, by the time Jay and the calves returned, I had volunteers scheduled all through the day and night to help us hold them, read out loud them, sing to them, and sleep next to them. With the help of great veterinarians and energy healers, the calves recovered and were given a perfect life at The Gentle Barn.
Because his breed is genetically engineered to grow very big to produce the most breast milk possible, Forgiveness grew to over six feet tall and three thousand pounds, the largest cow we have ever had. He loved his life here! He stood still with small children, he allowed our guests to hug him, and he inspired all of us. He protected the ladies and raised the youngsters to have good manners and be respectful. He was courageous, thoughtful, kind, and beloved by all who knew him.
Most cows his size live till about seven or eight years old, but Forgiveness loved it here so much that he never wanted to leave and lived till eleven. Once he started having mobility issues, we helped him stay mobile and comfortable by giving him acupuncture, massage therapy, CBD, Sun Chlorella Algae Super Food, and at the end, anti-inflammatory medication. But as we knew would happen, the day came when he could no longer stand up no matter what we did. His mind was sharp, his connection with our other cows so great, that he begged us to help him stay. But we could not let him lay there to suffer and we were not strong enough to lift him. Holding his giant face in our hands, telling him over and over again how much we loved him and how grateful we are for all that he had done for us, we helped Forgiveness rise out of his body, free from pain, unrestrained, and unencumbered.