Roanoke Times
                 Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: SUNDAY, August 15, 1993                   TAG: 9308150156
SECTION: HORIZON                    PAGE: D-5   EDITION: METRO 
SOURCE: MARY PEMBERTON ASSOCIATED PRESS
DATELINE: ASPEN HILL, MD.                                LENGTH: Medium

IN THIS SANCTUARY IN MARYLAND, GUESTS ARE TREATED LIKE ANIMALS

Instead, Freddy and another turkey named Sammy were taken to a sanctuary in a suburb of Washington, D.C., where more than 160 animals are having the last word on how they should be treated.

"These animals act as ambassadors of their species to teach human beings," says Sharon Honnell, caretaker of the Aspin Hill Memorial Park and Animal Sanctuary. "We treat them with respect and they treat us with respect."

Freddy shares his new home with potbellied pigs, sheep, ducks, rabbits, goats, chickens, dogs, cats and exotic birds. The eight-acre sanctuary is operated by People For The Ethical Treatment of Animals, a 4,000-member animal rights group headquartered in Rockville, Md.

"Every living being has as much right to be here as we do," Honnell said. "We let them do what they want to do."

Dogs lounge on chewed "dog furniture" in the living room of the 1930s farmhouse. The dining room, den and breakfast nook have been converted to a giant, ceiling-to-floor birdhouse for abused birds.

Cory, a white cockatoo rescued by singer-songwriter James Taylor from the closet of a New York City health spa, shares his cage with Charlie, another cockatoo whose wings were amputated by animal importers who used the bird to lure others in the wild.

"Psychologically, these animals are scarred for the rest of their lives," Honnell said.

Cory's frequent, piercing screech tells Honnell that he wants to be lifted onto her shoulder.

"See that behavior, that bobbing and weaving? That's psychotic behavior," she said. "When the bird was rescued, he had no feathers because he'd torn them out."

Sixty parakeets, rescued from an attic crawl space of a Maryland home, flit around what was once the dining room. An office window panel is missing so the cats can have easy access to the porch on hot days.

Geese and ducks strutting and pecking their way around the front yard take little notice of Red, a hound standing on a picnic table.

Three "foie gras" ducks, plucked from a trash bin of a factory farm in upstate New York, stand apart from the more sociable Buzz, an ornamental chicken saved from a religion that sacrifices animals.

"We want everybody to be happy here. Just as parents give their children things to play on, we give our goats something to play on," said Honnell, pointing to a 4-foot platform.

Bill E. Goat weighed 90 pounds when animal control officers found him tied to a tree in back of his owners' home. Now he weighs twice that.

It costs about $200,000 a year in donations to cover costs of running the sanctuary. Most of the money goes to food and maintenance, but there are other expenses.

As part of its education program, PETA expects about 1,500 schoolchildren to visit the sanctuary this year. The program teaches children that each animal, no matter how insignificant, has the right to survive, says Kathy Guillermo, a PETA spokeswoman.

"They have complex social needs, just like humans," Guillermo said.

Jeffrey, a 350-pound potbellied pig rescued from a shed in Virginia where he was left to die, shares a meadow with Jetta, a 500-pound pig.

"The minipigs are the big problem now," Honnell said. "People don't realize how big they will get."

The potbellied pigs are smart, she says. One cold night, she went out to the barn to check on the pigs and lay down next to them. Jeffrey covered her with hay.

Then he looked at her and sighed, as if to say, "Are you so stupid? You can't do that," Honnell said.