Tabbethia Haubold's shearing business brings her up and down the...

Tabbethia Haubold's shearing business brings her up and down the East Coast to care for animals. She is shown here on her farm in Yaphank feeding a llama last week. Credit: Newsday/J. Conrad Williams Jr.

In 1996, a love of animals — which infused her childhood, work and education — ultimately drove Tabbethia Haubold to launch a niche farm.

"I was always a kid that loved animals, and as an only child, my parents supported whatever my interests were — hermit crabs, guinea pigs, rabbits or dogs," said Haubold, 52, the owner and founder of Long Island Yarn and Farm in Yaphank.

The farm’s 17-acre property is home to Haubold and her husband, Christopher Magee, 52, along with a menagerie of woolly creatures, including llamas, sheep, alpacas, and Angora goats and rabbits. The operation employs one full-timer, three part-timers and, as-needed, five independent workers.

As part of the business, Haubold, a Suffolk County native, traverses between Vermont and South Carolina to shear about 1,000 animals each season. She charges $25 to $85, based on the type of animal, number of animals and the additional services that she provides, such as hoof or toenail trimming and deworming.

The fleece — from customers’ and Haubold’s own stock — is then commercially milled into yarn, which her farm’s shop sells for $40 to $80 per skein.

Other income streams include revenue from the company’s lanolin skin care products and assorted tchotchkes, as in llama keychains; tours of the animals; and educational programs.

"Farm-based llama hikes are on the horizon," said the graduate of the four-year Delaware Valley College, now a university, in Doylestown, Pennsylvania, where she majored in animal science.

In 2023, the farm experienced a 25% increase in gross revenue from year-earlier results, according to Haubold. Last year, retail sales represented the lion’s share of the business, accounting for 65%, followed by shearing, 22%.

Originally, Haubold called her company LI Livestock Company. But five years ago, she rebranded the enterprise as Long Island Yarn and Farm to stop phone calls for meat to eat and to better reflect its varied operations.

"I’ve never created a business plan," said Haubold. "But I always have to change what’s available to keep people involved and attract new people."

Haubold recently spoke to Newsday about her farm business. Answers have been edited for space.

Where did you work before Long Island Yarn and Farm?

After college, I was on the wait list for veterinarian school. But because I had once been obsessed with horses, including having trained, showed and ridden them competitively and, throughout college, had worked at horse farms and veterinarian hospitals, I got a job with the Cornell Cooperative Extension at the Suffolk County Farm and Education Center.

What did the job entail?

It incorporated teaching and managing the care of the animals with vaccinations and diet. I also organized educational programs for the public and educators.

It gave me everything I know today and my contacts.

What was the genesis of your farm?

In 1995, soon after I started working at the Suffolk County farm, a pack of dogs attacked the sheep. Llamas are the best guardians of sheep and goats, but the Suffolk farm couldn’t afford to buy them outright. So, my research led to West Mountain Farms in Vermont, which provided us with 10 llamas. But all babies would belong to West Mountain, and if any were sold, profits went to West Mountain.

Llamas became my job and personal interest. I took them to my house where I was still living with my mom. And after I took on shearing responsibilities, I started shearing local sheep in my free time, and I began buying my own llamas in 2000.

So technically the business started while I was still employed and became a professional shearer.

Where did you learn to shear?

In college, I had to shear a sheep for a lab. But, because it’s very physically demanding, I thought I’d never do it again.

But once I got my job at the Suffolk farm and saw that they were paying someone to shear, I wanted to be a dedicated employee and took a weekend sheepshearing course at Cornell University in Ithaca.

But shearing llamas was on-the-job learning.

In 2005, I left the Suffolk farm because I realized that in three months of shearing, I could make the same money I made in a year at the nonprofit.

When did the business relocate from your Manorville residence to the Yaphank site?

In 2002, Christopher purchased the land for less than $400,000, and within the first year, we moved the llamas to Yaphank.

Is your husband involved in the farm?

Christopher has afforded me a place for my business, but the business is mine, physically and financially. He’s a farrier, which is a blacksmith specializing in horses, but he helps, from fixing a tractor to putting up a fence.

How many farm animals do you have?

We have 20 llamas, three Angora goats, six sheep, one alpaca, two Angora rabbits and two Vietnamese potbelly pigs.

How long does it generally take to shear an animal?

Five minutes for sheep, 15 minutes for llamas and 25 minutes for alpacas.

What’s your biggest business challenge?

The time commitment. On any given day, animals can throw a curveball into your plans. If one of them isn’t well, you have to drop everything you’re doing, which is no different than if your child is sick.

What do you enjoy about the farm?

I like it all.

It’s seasonal and ever-changing.

It gives me the freedom to offer the community what it needs and wants, including holding charity events. Our 12th Annual Summer Open House is this Sunday, Aug. 4. Admission is free, with visitors asked to bring an item to donate to the Animal Rescue Fund of the Hamptons.

And llamas are my life — the reason for the business.

What do you find so special about llamas?

They’re curious, intelligent and regal.

In 1996, a love of animals — which infused her childhood, work and education — ultimately drove Tabbethia Haubold to launch a niche farm.

"I was always a kid that loved animals, and as an only child, my parents supported whatever my interests were — hermit crabs, guinea pigs, rabbits or dogs," said Haubold, 52, the owner and founder of Long Island Yarn and Farm in Yaphank.

The farm’s 17-acre property is home to Haubold and her husband, Christopher Magee, 52, along with a menagerie of woolly creatures, including llamas, sheep, alpacas, and Angora goats and rabbits. The operation employs one full-timer, three part-timers and, as-needed, five independent workers.

As part of the business, Haubold, a Suffolk County native, traverses between Vermont and South Carolina to shear about 1,000 animals each season. She charges $25 to $85, based on the type of animal, number of animals and the additional services that she provides, such as hoof or toenail trimming and deworming.

The fleece — from customers’ and Haubold’s own stock — is then commercially milled into yarn, which her farm’s shop sells for $40 to $80 per skein.

Other income streams include revenue from the company’s lanolin skin care products and assorted tchotchkes, as in llama keychains; tours of the animals; and educational programs.

"Farm-based llama hikes are on the horizon," said the graduate of the four-year Delaware Valley College, now a university, in Doylestown, Pennsylvania, where she majored in animal science.

In 2023, the farm experienced a 25% increase in gross revenue from year-earlier results, according to Haubold. Last year, retail sales represented the lion’s share of the business, accounting for 65%, followed by shearing, 22%.

Originally, Haubold called her company LI Livestock Company. But five years ago, she rebranded the enterprise as Long Island Yarn and Farm to stop phone calls for meat to eat and to better reflect its varied operations.

"I’ve never created a business plan," said Haubold. "But I always have to change what’s available to keep people involved and attract new people."

Haubold recently spoke to Newsday about her farm business. Answers have been edited for space.

Where did you work before Long Island Yarn and Farm?

After college, I was on the wait list for veterinarian school. But because I had once been obsessed with horses, including having trained, showed and ridden them competitively and, throughout college, had worked at horse farms and veterinarian hospitals, I got a job with the Cornell Cooperative Extension at the Suffolk County Farm and Education Center.

What did the job entail?

It incorporated teaching and managing the care of the animals with vaccinations and diet. I also organized educational programs for the public and educators.

It gave me everything I know today and my contacts.

Haubold's farm experienced a 25% increase in gross revenue, with...

Haubold's farm experienced a 25% increase in gross revenue, with shearing representing 22% of her business. Credit: Newsday/J. Conrad Williams Jr.

What was the genesis of your farm?

In 1995, soon after I started working at the Suffolk County farm, a pack of dogs attacked the sheep. Llamas are the best guardians of sheep and goats, but the Suffolk farm couldn’t afford to buy them outright. So, my research led to West Mountain Farms in Vermont, which provided us with 10 llamas. But all babies would belong to West Mountain, and if any were sold, profits went to West Mountain.

Llamas became my job and personal interest. I took them to my house where I was still living with my mom. And after I took on shearing responsibilities, I started shearing local sheep in my free time, and I began buying my own llamas in 2000.

So technically the business started while I was still employed and became a professional shearer.

Where did you learn to shear?

In college, I had to shear a sheep for a lab. But, because it’s very physically demanding, I thought I’d never do it again.

But once I got my job at the Suffolk farm and saw that they were paying someone to shear, I wanted to be a dedicated employee and took a weekend sheepshearing course at Cornell University in Ithaca.

But shearing llamas was on-the-job learning.

In 2005, I left the Suffolk farm because I realized that in three months of shearing, I could make the same money I made in a year at the nonprofit.

When did the business relocate from your Manorville residence to the Yaphank site?

In 2002, Christopher purchased the land for less than $400,000, and within the first year, we moved the llamas to Yaphank.

Is your husband involved in the farm?

Christopher has afforded me a place for my business, but the business is mine, physically and financially. He’s a farrier, which is a blacksmith specializing in horses, but he helps, from fixing a tractor to putting up a fence.

How many farm animals do you have?

We have 20 llamas, three Angora goats, six sheep, one alpaca, two Angora rabbits and two Vietnamese potbelly pigs.

How long does it generally take to shear an animal?

Five minutes for sheep, 15 minutes for llamas and 25 minutes for alpacas.

What’s your biggest business challenge?

The time commitment. On any given day, animals can throw a curveball into your plans. If one of them isn’t well, you have to drop everything you’re doing, which is no different than if your child is sick.

What do you enjoy about the farm?

I like it all.

It’s seasonal and ever-changing.

It gives me the freedom to offer the community what it needs and wants, including holding charity events. Our 12th Annual Summer Open House is this Sunday, Aug. 4. Admission is free, with visitors asked to bring an item to donate to the Animal Rescue Fund of the Hamptons.

And llamas are my life — the reason for the business.

What do you find so special about llamas?

They’re curious, intelligent and regal.

AT A GLANCE

Long Island Yarn and Farm

Founder, Owner: Tabbethia Haubold

Location: Yaphank

Established: 1996

2023 Estimated Gross Revenue: $220,200

Full-time Employees: 1

Part-Time Employees: 3

Independent workers (on an as-needed basis): 5

A trip to the emergency room in a Long Island hospital now averages nearly 4 hours, data shows. NewsdayTV's Virginia Huie reports. Credit: Newsday Staff

'I'm going to try to avoid it' A trip to the emergency room in a Long Island hospital now averages nearly 4 hours, data shows. NewsdayTV's Virginia Huie reports.

A trip to the emergency room in a Long Island hospital now averages nearly 4 hours, data shows. NewsdayTV's Virginia Huie reports. Credit: Newsday Staff

'I'm going to try to avoid it' A trip to the emergency room in a Long Island hospital now averages nearly 4 hours, data shows. NewsdayTV's Virginia Huie reports.

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