Starting a farm wasn’t a part of Paul Matheson’s plans, but when he was struck by lightning, the one-in-a-million moment rewrote the rest of his life. Now, he runs the Brudenell Miniatures Barnyard Zoo, where he’s never alone. Some follow him on four legs, others on two. The barnyard is full of life, with miniature horses, birds, goats, sheep and more animals than he can count, a far cry from the career he once had. “At the end of the day, everything happens for a reason. Then, I guess, this was the reason,” he said. On a sunny day in August 2013, Matheson says he saw storm clouds start to roll in. He ran outside to roll up his truck windows, and with one foot on the ground, one foot in the car, he was hit. “There was a big bang and a flash all at once,” he said. “The lightning hit the telephone pole, came down the guywire and basically threw me.” Matheson has lived with a headache ever since that day 12 years ago. In the aftermath, he was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder. He also deals with some balance and cognitive issues, though doctors said there was no significant damage to his heart or liver. Still, Matheson had to give up his work as a paramedic. He had spent nearly 30 years with emergency medical services, the local fire department and also served as an RCMP auxiliary officer. Over that time, he served communities across Canada and around the world, from Algeria to Paris, France. Now, his work is at the Brudenell Miniatures Barnyard Zoo. It all started with a pint-sized horse he bought for his granddaughter eight years ago. Then came a couple more, and over the years, the farm filled with animals. Matheson says it’s his way of giving back. For visiting families and kids of all ages, it’s a place to laugh, learn and get close to animals they might never otherwise meet. “It’s our favourite place to come to every single time we visit P.E.I. It brings the kids a lot of joy,” said visitor Lisa Liang. “I like seeing the animals,” said Elliya Hoickle. “They’re so cute and I just like to have the chance to feed them,” said 10-year-old Violet. “He bites my hand!” added 5-year-old sister Alice, laughing next to a miniature horse. Matheson says those smiles make it all mean something. For him, the PTSD is hard to talk about, but he hopes to raise awareness. He says that while lightning can strike without warning, so can happiness.
