Small-Scale Livestock Farming

by Carol Ekarius

  Scenario 3: Selling Chickens and Eggs. You want to sell chickens or eggs. These products, like the beef in scenario 2, fall under Title 21, but there are generous exemptions for small-scale producers who wish to direct-market.

  The federal exemption for poultry allows any producer who raises and slaughters less than 1,000 birds per year a complete exemption from any federal inspection. Producers who slaughter between 1,000 and 20,000 birds per year are exempted if they market the birds within the “local jurisdiction,” which means the community you live in. If you live in one state but take your birds to a farmers’ market in another, you are required to have them inspected if you sell more than 1,000 per year; if you sell all the birds locally, you can butcher up to 20,000 without inspection. This exemption only applies to poultry you have raised, and slaughtered, on your own farm, but it also extends to birds that you sell to commercial outlets — such as restaurants and hotels — as well as those birds you sell directly to consumers.

  Federal law requires eggs to be candled and graded, but again, small producers are exempted. In the case of egg production, the federal exemption extends to producers with fewer than 3,000 laying hens.

  Even though small-scale producers are generally exempted from inspection of poultry and eggs, you are still required to label your products. The label must clearly state your name and address. In the case of eggs, it’s a good idea to date the carton.

  Though most states generally accept the federal standards, not all do. Some states and local government entitites have adopted more stringent requirements than the federal government has for meat, chicken, and eggs, and it is your responsibility to know that! An old adage in the legal world says: “Ignorance of the law is no excuse.” So play it safe and check your state and local laws — such as county health department laws — to be sure you are in compliance.

  FARMER PROFILE

  Tommy and Tommie-Lyn Cashion

  Tommy Cashion began managing a ranch in Woodbury, Georgia, for an investor in 1981. Now, almost 20 years later, he continues to manage the ranch with the help of his daughter, Tommie-Lyn.

  Originally, the ranch’s primary enterprise was raising registered Brangus cattle (a breed that was developed from a cross between Brahman and Angus cattle), but the Cashions have diversified the operations substantially over the years. Today, the Flint Land and Cattle Company runs registered Brangus, commercial cattle, goats, and red deer (a European member of the elk family), as well as operating a packing plant and running a pub and retail sales outlet in Warm Springs, Georgia.

  “A major operation for us for a number of years was raising commercial-grade beef heifers for replacement stock,” Tommie-Lyn explains. “We’d purchase young heifers from cow-calf operators, raise them on managed pastures for about 18 months, breed them to our Brangus bulls, and then resell them to cow-calf operators. We hosted an annual auction for these replacement heifers, and the enterprise went pretty well until NAFTA [North American Free Trade Agreement] came along. NAFTA threw the beef market into chaos, and the replacement-heifer operation was obviously not going to be profitable anymore, so we began looking for an alternative enterprise.”

  For over a year, Tommy and Tommie-Lyn researched all kinds of alternatives. “We had to know each potential alternative really well, so we could make the best decision.” They looked into beekeeping, alligators, catfish, elk, deer, hothouse tomatoes, blueberries, and more.

  “During our research phase, we visited successful alternative operators and university personnel. We studied all the literature we could find on each potential enterprise. Each possibility was analyzed from a financial perspective — it had to be a moneymaker.

  “We also wanted to incorporate a new component that would complement our existing operation; that had reasonable start-up costs [breeding-stock expenses, fencing, and so on]; and that had a variety of products to sell at the other end.” The red deer seemed to fit the bill; aside from some additional higher fencing, the deer could commingle with the cattle and goats, could eat from the same pastures and use the same trace minerals. The Cashions could purchase three head of red deer breeding stock for what one elk would cost, and the animals yielded seven different products.

  When the Cashions started the red deer operation, there were a few small breeders of exotic animals in Georgia, and the state didn’t really bother them. But suddenly, when 1,000 acres were being fenced for deer and truckloads of animals were being dropped off, the state Department of Natural Resources came to life. Personnel came to the ranch and told the Cashions they couldn’t raise red deer, because this was a wild species — and that even if they were allowed to raise deer, they sure couldn’t sell them. “We’d done too much work on the project by that point in time to give up without a fight.

  “It was an interesting experience. I didn’t even know how to get to the state capitol, but suddenly I’m embroiled in a huge political brouhaha. We met with the state veterinarian and the state Department of Agriculture. We were able to get their support once we showed them that our operation was being run well and that we had adequate documentation for animal health purposes.

  “Once the Department of Ag was on board, we contacted other producers of alternative species and agricultural groups to build a coalition. We spent over a year talking to senators and representatives, but we were able to get the ‘Georgia Deer Law’ passed in 1996, which vests control of seven species of exotic animals under the Department of Agriculture. There are regulations we have to follow that detail things we have to do, like fencing and health care, but with this law in place our right, and the right of other producers, to raise alternative species is secured.”

  Challenging Regulations

  As you work your way through the system, you may come up against a government employee who says, “You can’t do that!” or “You have to do this!”, and what they’re saying doesn’t seem correct or reasonable. What are your options? Luckily, the way our laws are designed you do have some options. There is always the appeals process, which can go all the way to the highest courts, if you choose to take your grievance that far.

  First, always ask that employees show you, in writing, the laws or regulations that they’re basing their statement on. If you get the “It’s our interpretation” line, remind them that their job isn’t to interpret, it’s to implement and enforce. Gray areas should be interpreted by the legislative body or the courts, not the staff, which is why we told state employees that they could take us to court over the Retail Food-Handler’s License.

  Second, ask what the formal appeals process is. At the local level, an appeal generally goes quickly to the elected board. At state and federal levels, appeals work through the chain of command, from lower employees to higher employees. The final step in the appeals process is the courts, but it’s often quite expensive to go there.

  If there is a dispute, document everything. Start when the mythical employee in the above paragraph says, “You can’t” or “You have to.” Write down immediately the date, time, name of the employee, and context of the conversation.

  Review the law. During your review, read the “legislative intent.” In federal laws, the legislative intent is called the “Congressional Statement of Findings.” It defines why elected officials adopted the law. For example, the Congressional Statement of Findings regarding meat inspection says, “Meat and meat products are an important source of the Nation’s total supply of food. They are consumed throughout the Nation and the major portion thereof moves in interstate commerce. It is essential in the public interest that the health and welfare of consumers be protected by assuring that meat and meat food products distributed to them are wholesome, not adulterated, and properly marked, labeled, and packaged. . . .”

  Ask yourself whether the requirement the employee is making is reasonable, within the law itself and also within the legislative intent of the law. If you are still confident of your stand, then ask to speak to the next higher employee, working up the line. At
each point, continue documenting what is said and done. Or if you’re really confident, use the tack we did: “Take us to court if you want!”

  If you have gone through all the employees, go to elected officials. Attend a town or county board meeting, or contact your senators’ and representatives’ offices. This step is where your previous documentation will help. Write out an outline to provide to your elected officials, detailing what has happened so far and why you think the requirement should be waived or changed. This step, particularly at a local level, often results in a change of the law, but these changes take time.

  Elected officials respond to voters, particularly when there is some volume to the voice they’re hearing — and by volume, I mean the number of constituents they are hearing from. When lots of potential voters (or organizations that represent voters) call up and discuss an issue, they get a much quicker response than one lone voice in the woods. If you opt to go to your elected officials, then, try to build support for your stand with other individuals or organizations. If the elected officials can’t or won’t do anything, your last stop for an appeal is the courts.

  Although there isn’t a law requiring you to use an attorney when you appeal through the courts, you’ll probably need one. Once you venture into court, there are so many rules about how, when, and where to file forms that you’ll need some guidance. If you can’t afford to hire a private-practice attorney — who may charge anywhere between $60 and $300 per hour — check to see if there is a nonprofit law organization available to help. The Farmer’s Legal Action Group in St. Paul, Minnesota, is one such organization. The best way to find these groups is to call the office of your state’s Bar Association and ask if there are advocates available in your area.

  Fighting a Factory Farm

  This is the story of Podunk County. It provides an example of the legal process. Although Podunk County is fictional, the gist of the story is based on actual cases.

  Podunk is a county of 12,000 people somewhere in rural America. The county has always been agricultural in character; wheat farming and beef ranching are the two major types of operations in the area. Two small feedlots, each with a maximum capacity of about 2,500 head of cattle, operate in the county. The largest employer is the railroad, followed by a feed mill. Most individuals in Podunk County make their living either directly from agriculture, or indirectly from the support industries operating in Podunk’s three incorporated towns.

  Like many small rural communities, Podunk loses many of its young people. They finish high school and go to college, join the military, or move to the nearest city in search of work; jobs are scarce.

  A major corporation has bought up large land-holdings in surrounding counties and installed large-scale confinement hog operations. In the surrounding counties, citizens initially greeted these operations warmly; they would create some jobs to keep young people in the area. Over time, though, sentiments changed. There weren’t as many jobs as the citizens originally thought, and those that came in were low paying. The hog facilities had serious odor problems, reducing the quality of life for area residents, and at least one facility had a major leak in its lagoon, causing a fish kill in the creek.

  Residents in Podunk feared that their county would be the next place the hog factories would move, so they got together a petition asking the county commissioners to outlaw factory farms in Podunk County.

  As allowed by state law and Podunk’s Articles of Incorporation, five county commissioners are elected by the citizens to act as the legislative body. The commissioners then elect a chair from among themselves. The chair serves the executive function, running the meetings, acting as the primary spokesman, and voting only to break a tie of the other four.

  The commissioners couldn’t simply adopt a law that said “no hog barns,” because that would be arbitrary and capricious, and the courts would throw the law out. They decided the best method available to them to block any factory hog farms from coming into the county was to adopt a new zoning ordinance.

  Zoning ordinances allow local and county governments to exert some control over new development within their communities. These ordinances provide public entities with a mechanism to review development plans, and issue — or deny — permits for the development based on specified criteria.

  Prior to adopting the ordinance, the commissioners scheduled a public hearing to allow input on it. At the hearing, all interested members of the general public were allowed to speak — for or against the proposed law. Since this issue was controversial and most people had strong feelings on the subject, there was a large turnout at the hearing. Most citizens spoke out against the factory farms and in favor of the proposed ordinance; however, some citizens spoke out against the ordinance.

  After the hearing, the commissioners debated the issue during one of their regularly scheduled meetings. During this process, which was also open to the public, they discussed the pros and cons of the proposal among themselves. After the debate, the commissioners voted to adopt the ordinance. The entire process, from the day the petition was presented until the final public notice was placed in the local newspaper announcing that the ordinance had been adopted, was documented by the county clerk.

  The zoning ordinance identified certain areas of the county as Agricultural Districts. Others were identified as Residential Districts, and still others as Commercial Districts. The ordinance prohibited new agricultural enterprises from being started in any Residential or Commercial District; however, existing agricultural operations were grandfathered in, and they were allowed to continue operating in these districts. The ordinance required all new agricultural operations with more than 1,000 breeding animals or 3,000 finishing animals, regardless of species, to apply for a Special-Use Permit.

  The new ordinance also included provisions allowing the county commissioners to hire a county zoning officer, and to appoint a citizen-based county zoning board. The first job for the zoning board, with the zoning officer’s help, was to develop a regulation that clarified the conditions and criteria used in reviewing Special-Use Permits.

  Like the ordinance, the proposed regulation had to go through a public hearing, public debate, and a public vote of the zoning board. Following zoning board approval, the regulation had to be approved by the county commissioners. In Podunk’s case, approval became automatic unless the commissioners vetoed the zoning board’s approval within 30 days. The commissioners didn’t take action, so the regulation went into effect.

  The regulation specified a number of different criteria and conditions an applicant would have to meet to obtain a Special-Use Permit for any type of large-scale animal operation. The process was designed to provide adequate review and public comment on each proposed Special-Use Permit. Criteria such as odor and noise thresholds, land area available for manure disposal, impacts on traffic and city services, and so on, were to be considered before the issuance of a Special-Use Permit.

  The zoning officer’s job was to apply all applicable ordinance and regulations on a day-to-day basis as the “enforcement officer.” He had to review permit applications, act as staff to the zoning board, and ensure that terms of Special-Use Permits were complied with after the zoning board approved them.

  Joe Greed, a local landowner who had hoped to sell his land to the big hog corporation, sued the county. Mr. Greed contended that the county had infringed upon his rights to sell his property, and had therefore reduced his property’s worth — a “taking,” in legal terms.

  The district court found in favor of the county. The court’s decision was based on the facts that the county had followed all the proper procedures in adopting the ordinance and the regulation; that the county was duly empowered to adopt such laws under overriding state statutes, the state’s Constitution, and its own Articles of Incorporation; and that Mr. Greed’s property still had value and could be used for agricultural purposes.

  FARMER PROFILE

  Ted and Molly Bartlett

  Ted and Molly we
re both raised in the suburbs of Cleveland, Ohio, but they knew that they wanted to do something outdoors. Silver Creek Farm grew out of that desire.

  In 1983, the Bartletts purchased their farm in central Ohio. It’s a 75-acre diversified farm that incorporates managed grazing with a large-scale market garden.

  “We got involved with managing grass pretty early after we bought this farm,” Molly explains, “because Ted got interested in the fencing systems that were just starting to come out of New Zealand. He became an on-farm sales representative for Gallagher Fencing” [Hamilton, New Zealand].

  Sheep have been their primary livestock species since the Bartletts began, but they also raise goats and poultry. “The first year, we marketed all of our lambs to friends and family. It was great: They all sold.” But the next year, when the lamb crop was about ready and Molly began contacting people, many of them said they still had some lamb left from last year. “I began to understand that selling all our lambs directly was going to require a bigger direct-marketing program. We were going to have to be able to sell lamb by the package.”

  Molly began selling meat, but the label wasn’t approved by the state or the federal government. “One day I got home from a meeting at the local County Extension Agent’s office, where we had been trying to figure out just what we were going to have to do to be in compliance with the labeling laws. When I drove up to the farm, there was a guy sitting in his car outside. He got out, wearing a suit and a gun. We don’t get many customers who wear a suit and a gun!” The gun-toting visitor arrested Molly and charged her with selling meat without a proper label. He confiscated meat and labels from the farm.

  “Through all this, the worst thing was that we had such a hard time finding out just what was required. I wasn’t allowed to design my labels, and I’ve never been able to keep any here at the farm; they have to stay at the butcher’s facilities.”