A John Deere Publication

Highland cow with curved horns in grassy field.

Otis may move a little slow, but does well considering he broke his spine at just 6 weeks old.

Agriculture, Rural Living September 01, 2025

Sanctuary of Second Chances

A place where Otis the bull is one of many works of heart.

by Martha Mintz

Look for the helpers. That's what we tell our kids when they witness a tragedy and need something positive to latch onto.

Not all helpers come in vehicles with blaring sirens. Some are found in the quiet moments of everyday life. On the farm, Jon "Farmer Jon" Fleenor and his wife Margaret Purcell can be counted among the helpers—to those on two feet or four, feathered or horned, young or old.

Farmer Jon and Margaret carved their small farm into a quiet nook just outside Coker, Alabama. Railroad tracks on one side and a creek and woods on the other made for the perfect spot, protected from the sprawl of nearby Tuscaloosa.

Starting in 2005 they spent weekends clearing privet trees, building fence, raising barns, and adding to a growing collection of animals. Among them were Farmer Jon's prized Highland cattle.

The herd was his pet project. He went to great lengths to source genetics and made careful crosses. Along the way, the cattle became like family. He even refers to the various offspring as "son" or "daughter." "Hey son, move over and I'll give you some scratches," he coos to a massive bull with an oddly humped back. The bull is Otis. On any other farm his journey would have ended after a brief six weeks of life.

Above. A grain bin was transformed into a farm getaway. Here Margaret and Jon spend many evenings unwinding and caring for their stock, including a three-hen gang known as "The Punks." A friend struggling with addiction gifted two metal bulls to the herd. Otis has defied many odds, including living, walking, even siring two offspring. Jon and Margaret built their grain bin getaway largely on their own. Its windows are positioned to catch the winter sun. Double doors are flung open to frame the perfect view of the pastures where their cattle, including Otis, graze. Though Otis has sired a couple calves, they're winding down the herd as they prepare to retire and travel.

Great lengths. "Everything with a disability needs the chance to prove itself," Jon says.

When Jon and Margaret found Otis down in the pasture one day, he was in desperate need of a chance. After a 70-mile drive to nearby Mississippi State University Animal Health Center, the outlook for Otis was bleak.

"They said his back was broken and we needed to put him down," Jon says. His response was as immediate as their dismissal. "That was an awful quick decision. Can we not explore other avenues?"

An 8-hour surgery rarely performed on dogs and successful on at least one horse was the compromise. The surgeon made Jon promise he'd put Otis down if he was blind or paralyzed. He was neither. He did need to learn to walk again, though.

"It was an amazing example of a human-animal bond. I definitely grew in my faith while working on his recovery," says Allison Gardner, who oversaw Otis' rehab. She now owns her own equine rehabilitation practice and uses strategies she practiced on Otis in her work. "God taught me a lot about how he can heal in that time."

Otis had two 8-inch rods installed on either side of his spine.

"They had to plan for how big he would be and apply a little 'English' to work with the curvature of his spine," Jon says as he scratches Otis' arched back in the pasture.

In the hospital they used slings to build muscle and retrain his hind legs. Margaret and Jon drove over to visit every other day.

After six weeks, they took him home with the steep challenge of taking over rehab themselves. The 250-pound calf needed to be walked eight hours per day.

Margaret and Jon would arrive at 4 a.m. to do the first four hours before heading off to a full day of work. They closed the day with another four hours of lifting him with ropes and helping him take muscle-building steps. This went on for several months.

"The happiest day of my life was the day he took two steps by himself. He fell on the third, but we got him back up," Jon says. "I cried like a baby when I came down to find him standing in his stall having got up on his own."

Otis continued to improve and has a permanent home at Katie Farms. He was put out to pasture with a dwindling herd including three 20-plus-year-old matriarchs: Bea, Maggie, and Diedra. They all get daily pain medicine.

"The folks at the vet school always say if reincarnation is a thing that they hope they come back as a cow on Farmer Jon's farm," Jon says.

The kindness doesn't only extend to animals. Farmer Jon and Margaret take great joy in sharing their farm and livestock with children. This includes field trips or even providing the Senior picture backdrop for a graduate with Down syndrome who had grown to love the cows from a past visit.

When groups come through, Farmer Jon has a knack for identifying the quiet kid. He draws them out until they are happily participating in the tour.

"Jon talks to kids like they're people," Margaret says. "He doesn't talk down to them, he looks them in the face, asks them questions, and encourages them. Little kids love Farmer Jon."

Farmer Jon loves to talk to all people, especially those others might not engage with. It's part of how word spreads about Katie Farms. "I've never met a stranger in my whole life. I can talk to anybody," Jon says.

As the years have gone by, the farm has become more of a sanctuary for both animals and people. Jon and Margaret, who don't live on site, built a cozy grain bin apartment making life more comfortable for them, too.

"It's our little getaway spot," Margaret says. After a long day in public jobs, they can kick back in their recliners with the doors wide open to relax and be at peace with their land and the many creatures in their care. ‡