Priscilla’s story is one of survival, resilience, and the right to finally be left in peace.
We were contacted by a nearby shelter to help rehome a senior pig. The plan was simple: take photos, get her listed, help her find a placement. But when I arrived and saw Priscilla—clearly ill, weak, and shutting down—I knew she wouldn’t survive the weekend if she stayed.
The shelter was closing in an hour. So I adopted her on the spot, loaded her into the back seat of my truck, and drove four hours straight to Cornell.
There, she was diagnosed with pneumonia. But the full extent of her trauma came out in her CT scan: two fractured vertebrae, injuries sustained from being chained outside on a harness 24/7. She had been removed from that home by humane law enforcement after enduring years of abuse and neglect. The damage was deep—both physical and emotional.
Today, Priscilla lives safely and quietly indoors, sharing her space with her roommate Jolene. She adores her caretakers and the life she has now—but she’s made one thing very clear: she doesn’t trust strangers, and she doesn’t want to. She is our only pig not fit for visitors (she bites), and we respect that fully. She has every right to be cautious, and we honor her boundaries without question.
Priscilla may never be suitable to interact with outsiders, but that doesn’t make her any less loved. In fact, it makes her all the more remarkable. She is living proof that healing doesn’t have to look like affection—it can look like safety, autonomy, and finally being left alone. It is our honor to meet Priscilla where she is at and provide her with a life that makes her feel comfortable and safe.