Walk Greg Casalaina's Seward farm with him and you'll have company.
Three beef cows wander in from pasture, looking for fallen apples; a lone goose, missing her mate, cautiously sidles up, hoping for handouts; and as a pen of piglets dumps their water-again-a flock of young turkey toms practices what passes for gobbling.
Goats and sheep lounge in Saturday's shade and as two draft "pasture ornaments" graze side-by-side, a trio of miniature horses, small in everything but attitude, comes careening around the side of the barn.
This is the home of the Hidden View Monster.
Mr. Casalaina was charged April 20 with two misdemeanor counts of animal cruelty after an investigation he still believes was orchestrated by animal rights activists turned up dead cows on his West Richmondville Road farm.
On June 17, a Schoharie County Grand Jury issued a "no bill" in the case, which means there wasn't enough evidence to proceed.
All records, according to a letter Mr. Casalaina received from District Attorney Jim Sacket, will be sealed.
The case is over.
Except Mr. Casalaina has no job-he lost it when the arrests hit the news-and because of the reputation charges of "animal abuser" earned him, he doesn't ever expect to work again.
He did gain a name: He's seen himself called the Hidden View Monster.
"Just like a serial murderer...I have a name now.
"I tell everyone: These people are out of control and you're just one spilled water bowl and one nosey neighbor away from having the same thing happen to you."
'These people,' Mr. Casalaina said, is Forgotten Friends Pet Rescue of Sharon Springs, run by Joyce Urban, who in April told the Times-Journal she went to Mr. Casalaina's farm and found dead cows, starving cats, dogs, pigs, and goats, and a horse trapped inside a barn without access to food and water.
All lies, Mr. Casalaina said, spread by people who trespassed on his property, used the internet to distribute misleading photos-some not even from his farm-and hounded the State Police and Sheriff's Department, demanding his arrest.
With the exception of a horse he put down himself-with a shotgun-a few days after his arrest when it became clear she wasn't going to recover from a difficult foaling, all of the animals Mr. Casalaina had when he was arrested are still with him.
The mare...I was going to give her two weeks. You know how it is with horses: They start picking at food and you start thinking, maybe they'll come around," he said.
"I never wanted horses...but we were at the auction and we knew where they were going and we said, Oh, what's two more?"
Mr. Casalaina grew up working on farms and hoped-he still hopes-to one day see Hidden View Farm turn a profit.
Before his arrest, his business plan included buying dairy bulls, raising them on milk from dairy goats instead of on costly milk replacer, and then reselling them at a profit in the fall like many farmers do.
He's also invested in a few beef cows with good bloodlines for breeding and meat and while some of the pigs he'll winter over, at least one is headed for the freezer.
"I don't apologize," he said. "Where do people think their food comes from?"
Mr. Casalaina said the dead cows activists photographed in the barn were those he butchered himself, both for his family's own freezer and for the Great Pyrenees he relies on to protect his livestock when he's not there.
"They were $50 cows," he said. "It would have cost me to send them to auction-for them to end up shipped off and turned into dog food anyway? I'm not stupid."
Mr. Casalaina suspects it's the condition of his home-the interior walls were ripped out so he could replaced the 1902s-era electrical wiring, work put on hold when he was arrested-that drew the animal rights activists to his farm.
'My father graciously opened his home to us, while we were doing the work," he said, "so we were easy pickings; we weren't living there. But I was there every morning and every night to feed and water. None of these animals were ever abused or neglected."
He's still amazed that no one got hurt stumbling around his farm in the dark-the electric was off-or by animals spooked when they opened the barn doors and half-convinced he'd have been sued if they had.
Mr. Casalaina said he was shocked and humiliated when TV stations alerted by the activists started showing up; for the most part, he said, the police were fair and embarrassed by the whole incident.
"They just wanted this to go away...Their real opinion was that there wasn't any animal abuse."
Backing up that belief is that the veterinarian called to the farm by police determined it wasn't necessary to confiscate the animals, nor did other vets Mr. Casalaina called in himself, he said.
Mr. Casalaina is also infuriated by the Schenectady, Schoharie County SPCA's demands that he turn over his animals to them.
"They're not required to have a vet or a licensed vet tech yet they have police powers? These guys are ruining lives...They got a court order to come on my place and yet they never exercised it. What does that tell you?"
Next on their list, he said, would likely have been the 60-acre farm itself.
"Those animals were my best defense," he said. "I was never worried about being convicted..I knew I'd taken care of my animals."
Google Mr. Casalaina's name or Hidden View Farm and he's not exaggerating: The case, unsubstantiated allegations, and photos-including his "mug" shot top the list.
He's lost a year of his life and the two acres of strawberries he planned to put in-and his family's income for the year--never got planted.
But he's doing his best to move on.
"In a way, it's funny," he said, filling the pigs' water dish-again-"what they tried to do to me means this-farming---is the only way I can make a living now. These animals, this place, and my family are all I've got.
"To everyone else, I say: You could be next."