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Kimber Williams brings alpacas into her nest
Robin's Nest Rescue manages a menagerie
"Alpacas are herd animals, and need the companionship of at least three others to thrive."
Robin’s Nest Rescue in Ramona is a family affair, says its president, Kimber Williams. “I could not do it alone, and I’m not alone, thank goodness,” says Williams, who grew up in Texas and has a penchant for animal rescue dating back to childhood. Today, she runs the program with her husband Nicholas Spears, her mother Sue Williams, and ranch and program manager Karin Marsicek.
The project is the fulfillment of a long-held dream for Williams: she always wanted a place in the country with some open space and some animals to occupy it. She attended LA’s Occidental College as an undergraduate, then moved to San Diego for law school in the early early 2000s and stayed. When the spot in Ramona that is now her home became available in 2021, it was just right: city-adjacent with lots of space for creatures large and small. She and her mother bought it together. Around the same time they acquired the land, she met Spears.
Robin’s Nest Rescue started small — chihuahua small. The first three rescues were Lily, Alberto and Julio, fondly known as the Three Chimigos. Alberto and Julio have gone to their canine reward, but Lily — who Williams calls the matriarch of the animals and the Founder and Chairwoman of the Three Chimigos — is alive and yipping at 16. Today, RNR is home to 23 animals across eight species: pigs, both a miniature and a full size horse, a miniature donkey, African Sulcata tortoises, sheep, dogs, cats, and alpacas — more about those last in a moment.
Animals come to RNR in various ways. The case that turned the operation into an official organization involved a large-scale pig hoarding situation: over 150 seriously neglected animals in hazardous and unsanitary conditions. My ears perked up at this; I was both intrigued and disturbed by my own nightmarish image of a pig hoarder. “Hoarding often stems from trauma, mental health struggles, or isolation,” says Williams. “In most cases, it begins with good intentions: someone feels connected to animals and wants to help them. But over time, things unravel, and both humans and animals suffer.” She says situations like that are more common than people might think. People fail to spay or neuter their animals. The animals reproduce copiously. The people feel ashamed or embarrassed and don’t know what to do. “It spirals out of control. My friend Jordan at Farm Animal Refuge reached out about this heartbreaking situation, and I left that day with three pigs — Falkor, Michael and a sweet little Kune Kune named Meg. They became the first official residents of Robin’s nest, and they are still with us today.”
Other rescues are less dramatic. In some instances, 4H or FFA students “have a change of heart when it comes time to ship their ‘meat hogs’ off for production. They can’t do it.” Often, they can’t keep them, either, and that’s where RNR comes in. Other times, people acquire animals as adorable little babies, and fail to consider just how big they’ll get and how much space they’ll require. Some rescues came from kill pens. And sometimes, people just can’t move their animals with them as they relocate. One nearby family called up needing to rehome four alpacas — and a pig named Ayla who thought she was part of the herd. “She was a mini-pig, the result of pairing smaller and smaller animals without regard for their health.” She died young from a blockage, “but we carried her memory with us” on later missions.
Ayla, the pig who thought she was an alpaca.
Another important part of RNR’s vision is sharing itself with the public. This happens in numerous ways. Volunteers are a crucial part of their functioning and help with ranch and administrative work. Campers can glamp in a vintage Airstream trailer onsite through the Air BnB that RNR hosts and take part in feeding and spending time with the animals. Day visitors can schedule tours and engage with the animals too. Williams wants visitors to be able to richly experience “the benefits of the animal-human bond” — especially those who “have also faced hardship.”
RNR’s most recent venture has involved providing a home for 20 alpacas who needed to be relocated from the Fresno area; their 87-year-old owner, newly widowed, could no longer keep them. “She and her partner had spent decades adopting aged-out animals from fleece farms and caring for them on their 60-acre ranch.” But he died soon after falling off a ladder in the hay barn, and “because they had never married and her partner left no will, the property went into probate.”
Williams and her team, together with support from Alpine’s Lions, Tigers and Bears, and three other Southern California ranches, arrived on March 3 after a 400-mile drive turned into a 12-hour ordeal by freezing rain. It took about four hours to pack the alpacas into three trailers pulled by trucks with large stickers that read “Caution: Alpacas on Board.” Then came the long drive home. Four of the Alpacas will remain at RNR, with the others divided among the four other volunteer teams involved. “Each will take at least four, since alpacas are herd animals and need the companionship of at least three others to thrive.” Their former owner, who Williams refers to as Thelma, “had dedicated her life to these alpacas. She sent the rescue team home with cherished mementos—records, equipment, and prized fleece processing supplies she had kept in pristine condition. ‘It means everything to me to know they will be loved and taken care of,’ she said.”
One of the alpacas, Neptune, arrived at RNR after surviving an attack by either a mountain lion or a pack of wild dogs. Williams says his emotional scars were worse than the physical ones. She was hesitant to take him at first, but says she couldn’t leave him behind. “I slept on it. Actually I didn’t sleep on it. I couldn’t sleep. There’s no way I could leave Neptune behind. It’s not what we do.” She knew it would be difficult. “When he’s put in with other alpacas, he picks fights because of his past trauma. The larger, healthier alpacas won’t stand for his behavior, so they fight back .” But he’s fine with people — “sweet” is the word Williams uses — and plays nicely with the team at RNR, aside from the spitting habit that is just in his camelid nature. “He’s the perfect example of why we exist. He’s been gelded to ease behavioral tension, and is gradually being reintroduced into the herd. We’re optimistic that he’ll be soon rejoin the others fully.”
Here's something you might be interested in.
Kimber Williams brings alpacas into her nest
Robin's Nest Rescue manages a menagerie
Kimber Williams brings alpacas into her nest
Robin's Nest Rescue manages a menagerie
"Alpacas are herd animals, and need the companionship of at least three others to thrive."
Robin’s Nest Rescue in Ramona is a family affair, says its president, Kimber Williams. “I could not do it alone, and I’m not alone, thank goodness,” says Williams, who grew up in Texas and has a penchant for animal rescue dating back to childhood. Today, she runs the program with her husband Nicholas Spears, her mother Sue Williams, and ranch and program manager Karin Marsicek.
The project is the fulfillment of a long-held dream for Williams: she always wanted a place in the country with some open space and some animals to occupy it. She attended LA’s Occidental College as an undergraduate, then moved to San Diego for law school in the early early 2000s and stayed. When the spot in Ramona that is now her home became available in 2021, it was just right: city-adjacent with lots of space for creatures large and small. She and her mother bought it together. Around the same time they acquired the land, she met Spears.
Robin’s Nest Rescue started small — chihuahua small. The first three rescues were Lily, Alberto and Julio, fondly known as the Three Chimigos. Alberto and Julio have gone to their canine reward, but Lily — who Williams calls the matriarch of the animals and the Founder and Chairwoman of the Three Chimigos — is alive and yipping at 16. Today, RNR is home to 23 animals across eight species: pigs, both a miniature and a full size horse, a miniature donkey, African Sulcata tortoises, sheep, dogs, cats, and alpacas — more about those last in a moment.
Animals come to RNR in various ways. The case that turned the operation into an official organization involved a large-scale pig hoarding situation: over 150 seriously neglected animals in hazardous and unsanitary conditions. My ears perked up at this; I was both intrigued and disturbed by my own nightmarish image of a pig hoarder. “Hoarding often stems from trauma, mental health struggles, or isolation,” says Williams. “In most cases, it begins with good intentions: someone feels connected to animals and wants to help them. But over time, things unravel, and both humans and animals suffer.” She says situations like that are more common than people might think. People fail to spay or neuter their animals. The animals reproduce copiously. The people feel ashamed or embarrassed and don’t know what to do. “It spirals out of control. My friend Jordan at Farm Animal Refuge reached out about this heartbreaking situation, and I left that day with three pigs — Falkor, Michael and a sweet little Kune Kune named Meg. They became the first official residents of Robin’s nest, and they are still with us today.”
Other rescues are less dramatic. In some instances, 4H or FFA students “have a change of heart when it comes time to ship their ‘meat hogs’ off for production. They can’t do it.” Often, they can’t keep them, either, and that’s where RNR comes in. Other times, people acquire animals as adorable little babies, and fail to consider just how big they’ll get and how much space they’ll require. Some rescues came from kill pens. And sometimes, people just can’t move their animals with them as they relocate. One nearby family called up needing to rehome four alpacas — and a pig named Ayla who thought she was part of the herd. “She was a mini-pig, the result of pairing smaller and smaller animals without regard for their health.” She died young from a blockage, “but we carried her memory with us” on later missions.
Ayla, the pig who thought she was an alpaca.
Another important part of RNR’s vision is sharing itself with the public. This happens in numerous ways. Volunteers are a crucial part of their functioning and help with ranch and administrative work. Campers can glamp in a vintage Airstream trailer onsite through the Air BnB that RNR hosts and take part in feeding and spending time with the animals. Day visitors can schedule tours and engage with the animals too. Williams wants visitors to be able to richly experience “the benefits of the animal-human bond” — especially those who “have also faced hardship.”
RNR’s most recent venture has involved providing a home for 20 alpacas who needed to be relocated from the Fresno area; their 87-year-old owner, newly widowed, could no longer keep them. “She and her partner had spent decades adopting aged-out animals from fleece farms and caring for them on their 60-acre ranch.” But he died soon after falling off a ladder in the hay barn, and “because they had never married and her partner left no will, the property went into probate.”
Williams and her team, together with support from Alpine’s Lions, Tigers and Bears, and three other Southern California ranches, arrived on March 3 after a 400-mile drive turned into a 12-hour ordeal by freezing rain. It took about four hours to pack the alpacas into three trailers pulled by trucks with large stickers that read “Caution: Alpacas on Board.” Then came the long drive home. Four of the Alpacas will remain at RNR, with the others divided among the four other volunteer teams involved. “Each will take at least four, since alpacas are herd animals and need the companionship of at least three others to thrive.” Their former owner, who Williams refers to as Thelma, “had dedicated her life to these alpacas. She sent the rescue team home with cherished mementos—records, equipment, and prized fleece processing supplies she had kept in pristine condition. ‘It means everything to me to know they will be loved and taken care of,’ she said.”
One of the alpacas, Neptune, arrived at RNR after surviving an attack by either a mountain lion or a pack of wild dogs. Williams says his emotional scars were worse than the physical ones. She was hesitant to take him at first, but says she couldn’t leave him behind. “I slept on it. Actually I didn’t sleep on it. I couldn’t sleep. There’s no way I could leave Neptune behind. It’s not what we do.” She knew it would be difficult. “When he’s put in with other alpacas, he picks fights because of his past trauma. The larger, healthier alpacas won’t stand for his behavior, so they fight back .” But he’s fine with people — “sweet” is the word Williams uses — and plays nicely with the team at RNR, aside from the spitting habit that is just in his camelid nature. “He’s the perfect example of why we exist. He’s been gelded to ease behavioral tension, and is gradually being reintroduced into the herd. We’re optimistic that he’ll be soon rejoin the others fully.”
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