Turkish volunteer fights to save fire-scarred sheep

Lying on her back, the sheep struggled as the man approached to bandage her udders, which had been burned in a fire last month that killed hundreds of sheep in southeast Turkey.

Since the fire, Hasan Kizil has been driving on hilly roads in his van, treating traumatised animals and convincing farmers not to sell injured sheep to the slaughterhouse.

The blaze ripped through the southeastern cities of Diyarbakir and Mardin on June 22, claiming 15 lives. Experts pointed to faulty wiring as a possible cause.

More than 1,000 sheep and goats died in the fire, according to the agriculture ministry, including those in the Mazidagi area, 36 kilometres (22 miles) from Mardin.

"Most of them had their eyes completely closed, too swollen to see in front of them," the 29-year-old, who largely taught himself how to care for the animals, said while treating burns around blackened hooves and udders.

"Had it continued for a few more days, the spoiled milk would have caused septicaemia," he said, referring to blood poisoning by bacteria. "We almost lost them."

Every day, Kizil voluntarily visits farms to monitor the animals and convince farmers to keep their damaged herds.

Caring for injured and unproductive animals is a heavy burden for the young breeder, who owes 27,000 Turkish lira ($825) to the bank while also paying for medicine and hay.

Former kebab seller Mehmet Celebioglu, in his 30s, went into debt to buy 160 sheep and a few goats. Now only about 40 remain -- female sheep unable to produce milk and young goats orphaned by the fire.

"They were lying in the fields when the fire broke out. 120 sheep burned on the spot. Their eyes melted... these are all that are left," he said.

"My brothers risked their lives to save them," added his 18-year-old sister Gulistan, recalling how the fire cut off the electricity and water supplies as hot wind raged over the hills.

But selling the remaining stock is not an option for Celebioglu, originally from Adana, a large city in the south.

"Selling them? They'd pay me 2,000 to 3,000 lira," he said.

"I've spent two years teaching myself this job and most of all, I love my animals."