I do it for you

It has been a rough summer. Few adoptions, beloved cats with fatal diseases, and too many people who “need” to give up their pets. Every day I question if the misery is worth it. Psychologists say you need 10 positive events to negate a single bad event. I can promise you we don’t come close to that. My heart skips when I see emails with the subject “kittens” or “cats”, because I’m terrified it will be someone wanting to give up their pets. I ask myself every day, should we give up the shelter? Is the grief more than the joy? If we didn’t have to take care of Freckle, Persia, Nook, and the other adults who have been with us for more than a year, could we spend more time preventing unwanted births? What should we focus on? The truth is we would have had a greater impact on the overpopulation situation if we spent all the money on spay/neuter. But that would have meant death for Mr. Rub My Belly, who was adopted last night. And so many others that I have loved.

I look at them. They have no idea that they are only alive because of me. They don’t know how close to cracking that I am. I constantly search for the strength I need. I can see why so few people are donating the time and money to help the animals. It’s because if they recognize the problem they won’t be able to deal with the emotional consequence. Sometimes I get strength from people who adopted from us and love their new family member. Sometimes commiserating with those who go through the same thing helps. Sometimes it is snuggling with Bob or Cuddles that helps. I am not sure that I’m a strong person. I bawl my eyes out with every death. I feel guilt at not being able to save them all, at not recognizing their illness sooner.

But this is why I continue to do it:

I do it for you, the homeless feral who will continue to be emaciated and give birth 4 times per year, unless I intervene

I do it for you, Stella, who died of renal failure this week

I do it for you, the Woolie family, who were in danger before I relocated you

I do it for you, Lucky, who would have been dead within a few weeks, had I not called the sheriff and demanded your surrender

I do it for you, Persia, who had to hunt for food before I trapped you

I do it for you, Cuddles, who miraculously survived 16 months without a human, after hurricane Katrina

I do it for you, Toby, who would have been put to sleep elsewhere simply because you had a broken leg

I do it for you, Monkey, whose entire family was diagnosed with FIV

I do it for you, Bob, my reason for living

And most of all, I do it for Jandy, the best thing to ever happen to me……….

2-years and counting

Yesterday was the 2-yr. anniversary of hurricane Katrina. I felt nauseous all day long. All our lives changed…………some more than others. I’m part of the rescuers network and yesterday I got more than enough opinions on the situation down there.

Currently, a fellow rescuer of mine is being hounded to return one of the dogs she rescued & adopted. According to the attorney general in Louisiana, animals of the storm are deemed “lost property” and owners have 3 years to claim them. The former ruling declared a date of 12/31/05 which has long since passed.

We continue to work with rescue groups down there. It’s hard to explain to someone who wasn’t there, but it’s my home now too. I miss being down there. The experience is something I can not explain or ever forget. It’s personal now. The calendar says 2 years, but it could be last week, at least for me.

Here’s what a typical day is like:

As many of you know, I quit my job to do Hurricane rescue last year. I plan on returning this October to save more lives and hopefully bring some back with me. Here is a typical day for me:

4:15AM
Am I really going to get up? Yes. The animals are terrified and half-wild at this point. You can only see them at dawn and dusk for the most part. They roam at night but there is no electricity or street lights and you can't see them. Even house pets won't come to their owners, and we need to trap them for them. Except for nursing mothers, virtually no animal is caught without a trap. We can't imagine the horrors they have lived with, swimming and living in toxic muck, wondering why the owners to whom they gave a lifetime of love and affection have abandoned them.

5:45AM
I arrive at the St. Bernard parish checkpoint. It is still dark and the sheriff approaches my car with a puzzled look on his face. When he sees it is me he grins and shakes his head, waving me in. It looks like a mixture of admiration and incomprehension at my dedication. The first day I tried to enter he drilled me pretty well. On my first trip to this area there were no checkpoints--there were no people, period. Only rescuers and military. But now he is part of my daily life and I will miss him when I leave.

The military loves us animal rescuers. They have given me permission to enter an off-limits area to search for animals, and I will do that tomorrow or Thursday. There is an unspoken camaraderie between the military and animal rescuers. I can't quite put my finger on it. Maybe it's because we're both dedicated to our goals--not our jobs. Their goal is protecting and serving their country and countrymen, our goal is the same for the animals.

St. Bernard has received little press but it is much worse off then New Orleans. Several areas of N.O. were wiped out, but the entire county of St. Bernard has been destroyed. Nothing can be saved. I have driven over and mapped 2/3 of the entire county so far so that the rescuing can be more efficient, and we can make sure there are no gaps in our feeding stations. I don't need a map anymore, and I feel I know this place better than Kent County.

I spend part of each day walking the streets talking to the people. They tell me their stories, show me their pictures, and tell me their neighbors' and relatives' stories. I know which houses lost a family member in the flood and what states they have been shuffled to. There is no hint of bitterness or complaints, they are matter-of-factly rebuilding their lives and moving forward. In only one couple did I hear a hint of discouragement. After only a few days I feel I know these people better than my own neighbors, and in a brief moment of insanity I have the desire to stay and help them rebuild, because this place is starting to feel like my home too.

7:30AM
The morning meeting and area assignments should be starting now, but with night trapping and morning walks it never begins before 8:30, and people aren't on their way to their areas until 9:30. I have no patience for this waste of time so I email Holly the night before, telling her what area I'll be mapping and patrolling the next day. We're also supposed to go in pairs, but nobody else wants to get up as early as I do, so I go alone. Most pairs spend 5 hours each day in their section. I average 12.

There are only 3 rescue groups still here. The Humane Society took in over $20 million for Katrina rescue, stopped rescuing on Oct. 1, and were gone by Oct. 15. There are thousands of animals left and the number increases every day. Why is this? Because nobody neuters or spays their animals in Louisiana and any animal left inside during the disaster was able to roam freely after the hurricane created broken windows and holes in the houses, and the military broke down doors searching for bodies in early September. The disaster occurred over 75 days ago and the gestation period of cats and dogs is 63 days. Get the picture? What could be 5,000 roaming animals in need of food and care today could be 25,000 next month. We bring in a load of puppies each night. The kittens are eluding us, likely due to the size difference.

8:00
The animals have returned to their hiding places and now I search houses and look for signs of animal activity at feeding stations and elsewhere. Where I see signs of activity I stop and climb through houses. I shove aside toppled furniture and broken televisions, lift up broken beds and rummage through piles of mucky clothing on closet floors. The stench is overpowering. Imagine what the contents of your freezer and refrigerator smell like after they've been tossed all over the house, soaked in muck for weeks, and left for months--and that doesn't include the sewage.

Only about 2% of the residents are around, and most of them just for brief moments-either to see the damage for themselves or meet with their insurance agent. Because I am an animal rescuer and anyone's pet could be in anyone else's home/yard/car at this point, I can pretty much go and do whatever I want, whenever I want. At times I feel Supreme and All Powerful, but then the weirdness and creepiness of it hits me and all I really want to do is get out of their house as fast as I can.

Some people are gutting their houses themselves. They don't seem to have lost their senses of humor, though. "Ex-wife inside" is spray painted on a refrigerator. "1 cent, will finance" is written on a boat. There are boats and cars on houses, sheds on fences, houses in the middle of the street, and garbage everywhere. Some have decorated their trees with ruined belongings. Clothes are the most common items, and I have to say it looks quite festive. Other people have a display of ruined photographs, like you see at a funeral, or a creepy display of dirty dolls and stuffed animals.

1:00PM
I stop by the trailer park on Livingston to tell Nolan I may have located his dog. I met him yesterday and he insisted on feeding me lunch: white bread, tuna fish, and Cajun pickles. The rescue crew wouldn't let him take his dog when he evacuated, so he called a rescue group to pick her up and he hasn't found her yet. He's excited with my news and tells me that if I come visit after he gets her back that I'll get lots of kisses. I'm hoping he's referring to the dog.

2:00
I'm on my feet and asking everyone I see about animals in the area. People are very helpful and grateful that I am doing this--even non-locals. I ask a gutting crew if they have seen any cats around their worksite. One of them asks me if I'm looking for a special one. I smile and tell him they're all special. The guy next to him slaps his thigh and hollers "Sing it, sister!"

2:30
I hit the jackpot. Warehouses full of goods have all been trashed, and I found a restaurant supply warehouse. Boxes full of carry-out styrofoam containers have been thrown out. It is exactly what we need to put food out for the animals. We never have enough aluminum pans, and with all the dusty muck we don't want to put food on the ground because we don't want them to lick up more of it than they already have.

3:00
I'm feeding about a dozen cats near Ventura when I hear a dog barking. Very few abandoned animals could be alive at this point, but if they were left with plenty of food and water the possibility exists. I kick the door in and climb upstairs to find the dog shut in the bathroom. He's skinny but has food and water. I look around and see face masks and gloves, so people have been here and the dog is likely in the bathroom so it doesn't chew on anything mucky. Hmm, they aren't going to be too happy about their front door.

5:40PM
My work in St. Bernard is done for the day. I never get as much done as I would like, but I leave satisfied that the animals have enough food and water to survive until their owners come home, we catch them, or their feeding station is refilled.

I turn into the upper 9th ward. I drive past Louisa street and stare at the bright green house where my rescue cat, Bob, was found. He was pulled out from under the house so I don't know if he had a home or if he was just a neighborhood stray. He is an awesome cat and doesn't seem to miss his past life. He is Master of the house, Boss of the dog, and King of my bed.

I pass the house with the dog carcass on the car roof. Did he just happen to land there when the water subsided, or did he die waiting for one of the too few animal rescuers to find him? St. Bernard will be reinhabited, but the 9th ward will be demolished, so retrieving all the animals is necessary. Momma dog may run out when she hears the bulldozer, but her puppies will be buried alive. No residents have returned to the area, it is virtually silent. The 9th ward was subsidized government housing, so people weren't homeowners, and with nothing salvageable the former inhabitants have no reason to return.

I reach the house on Gallier where a mother dog is hiding. All of the houses are raised about 18 inches and crawling under them is a pain in the butt. The sludge is still everywhere, covering everything. Looking under the house with a flashlight I see no sign of any dogs, but I know she is there. There is no way out and I saw her duck under there when I arrived. People treat the gap under their house like a garage, and it is stuffed with rakes, equipment, and garbage. I crawl under there trying not to touch what’s left of the foundation of the house, lest I jar it and it collapses on me. Hmm, maybe this is another reason we go in pairs. I move items around and a half hour later I give up for the night. I pull out as much junk as I can so next time I will be able to move around more and see better.

The work I'm doing doesn't require my graduate degree, only dedication and determination, but the satisfaction I feel at the end of the day has no equal. The stress is endless. If I don't sort through all the rubble in this house will I miss the cat too weak to make it to the feeding stations? It could easily take 2 hours to comb this house for an animal that may or may not be here, and if I do it will I miss the last bark the dog up the street will give before fading away into darkness? If I look to the left will I miss the animal on the right that just darted under the house? You can't win, but if you don't participate everyone loses. The animals are too terrified to bark or make noise anymore. You have to search every inch because they won't let you know they're there.

7:15
I arrive back in Raceland. I'm exhausted but there is more to be done. I type in my notes and feeding stations for the day and send them to Holly. I call my sister who isn't happy I'm not going to Boston for Thanksgiving to provide moral support for her as other family members descend upon her. It's all for the best, really, because if I hear any more yapping from people on how much money they're blowing on unnecessary material goods I'll have no choice but to flush them down the toilet.

I will spend Thanksgiving out on the streets. I went to Wal-Mart and still need to go to Sam's club for canned food. All the animals in my area will be getting yummy wet food for their Thanksgiving meal. We don't have nearly the food donations we need so I'm having to buy most of it on my own. Then I will probably stop at 247 Friscoville and have a beer with one of my new friends.

7:45
Jerry, my hostess' ex-husband and neighbor comes over like clockwork every night. Jeni went to Texas for a few days so I am here with her 13-yr. old. Jerry senses I have a lot to say, and I tell him about my day. The people are so gracious and generous! "God bless you", "Here, take some water with you, are you hungry?" "We sure do appreciate you", "Come back soon and hang out for a while", "Thank you for all your help". I see some of these people almost every day, and they greet me like a long lost friend each time. I finally break down for the first time this trip, and it isn't even about the animals. It's from the realization that if the tables were turned, I think I would be too full of my own self-pity and misery to have a kind word for anyone……………

Giving away free kittens..............without vet care

I don't think many people realize the damage they do. I get lots of emails, many are the same this time of year. "We found a pregnant cat outdoors, brought her indoors, let her give birth, gave away the kittens, and now we want you to take the mother." These people really do believe they did a good deed, but from a shelter's perspective this is a disaster.

First of all, most of these people don't get any of the cats/kittens tested for fatal diseases, so when they give away these "free kittens", they are putting the new owner's other pets at fatal risk of disease, as well as setting the new owner up for heartbreak.

Second, none of these "free kittens" are fixed, and they in turn are able to reproduce, and those offspring will be able to reproduce, and on and on. There are free or low-cost spay/neuter options available here. I am unaware of a single person our local groups have been unable/unwilling to help.

So if you come across a pregnant cat or need help with spay/neuter, send us an email, or place a call to C-SNIP.

Get a second opinion!!!

Last night I got a desperate email from a woman who had rescued a kitten from a hell hole. This now 5-month old kitty had injured its leg and this person’s vet assured them the kitty needed surgery, was in a lot of pain, and they were looking at a $1500 bill.

Not being able to afford it, like most people, they contacted us to see if there was anything we could do. They saw the only other option was to bring the kitty to be humane society where it would have been immediately euthanized. We told them we didn’t have an extra $1500 either, but told them to pay a visit to our vet, Dr. Bruce Langlois. He is a miracle worker and flat-out brilliant. Several of my volunteers call him God. We knew if there was another way to fix this kitty he’d know what it was.

So I just got the phone call from Jennifer, thanking me for sending her and Chase to see Bruce. Chase is going to be fine…………….without surgery :).

When it comes to the life of your pet, get a second opinion! There are very, very few people I trust when it comes to my cats, and I’ve been known to seek out different opinions myself when I don’t like what I’m hearing. Sometimes it helps, sometimes it doesn’t. But in all cases, you need to be able to look yourself in the mirror and know that you did everything you could…………

Casualties of love and war

Today I got an email from a girlfriend/boyfriend duo who adopted a kitten from us last year. They broke up and now neither of them wants the animal. So now this cat is fully grown and her chances of ever finding a home are slim. She'll be in our shelter for over a year, wondering what happened and why she's now stuffed in a room with a bunch of other animals, not getting nearly the amount of attention she deserves.

This isn't the first time this has happened. So, for the sake of the kittens, I will no longer adopt to girlfriend/boyfriend couples who live in apartments. When the breakup occurs neither wants a reminder of the other, and the cat gets left behind. William said to me: My life is more important than a ****ing cat! He wasn't in the mood for the lecture I gave him, but I made my position clear as well as the impact on the cat.

Free to a good home

FREE TO GOOD HOME – THE DEATH SENTENCE


This is how some people see your “free” pet:


Free bait to train fighting dogs.
Free bait to train greyhounds.
Free fish bait.
Free snake food.
Free money from a research lab.
Free sacrifice for satanic rituals.
Free for malicious pranks.
Free to set on fire.
Free to insert a firecracker into.
Free to breed indiscriminately.

The amount of free kitten ads I see everywhere are enough to make me ill. I know what a free kitten is, and I know the difference between people wanting one and people who come to our shelter to adopt.

A responsible pet owner would have the following done to their new FREE kitten: vaccines ($40 office visit + $25 vaccines), FIV/feleuk test ($50), spay/neuter ($65 males, $80 females), microchipped ($50), revaccinated ($40 office visit + $25 vaccines), wormed ($20), flea treated ($25). And that is the bare minimum. I know full well that someone NOT willing to pay me $95 for a kitten and be thrilled about the bargain they are getting, isn't someone I want any of my cats to go to.

Money is an exchange of value, and if someone doesn't find their new friend and companion to be worth some money, then it obviously isn't worth much to them.

So next time you see a sign for free kittens, stop and have a little chat with that person!

Newspaper article from Detroit

A Shelter Manager's Thankless Job

"I am posting this (and it is long) because I think our society needs a huge "Wake-up" call. As a shelter manager, I am going to share a little insight with you all...a view from the inside if you will. First off, this is a forum to for adoption and/or rehoming as clearly stated in the rules. All of you breeders/sellers on craigslist should not only be flagged (and I hope the good people on craigslist will continue to do so with blind fury), but you should be made to work in the "back" of an animal shelter for just one day.

Maybe if you saw the life drain from a few sad, lost, confused eyes, you would change your mind about breeding and selling to people you don't even know that puppy you just sold will most likely end up in my shelter when it's not a cute little puppy anymore. So how would you feel if you knew that there's about a 90% chance that dog will never walk out of the shelter it is going to be dumped at? Purebred or not! About 50% of all of the dogs that are "owner surrenders" or "strays", that come into my shelter are purebred dogs. The most common excuses I hear are; "We are moving and we can't take our dog (or cat)." Really? Where are you moving too that doesn't allow pets? Or they say "The dog got bigger than we thought it would". How big did you think a German Shepherd would get? "We don't have time for her". Really? I work a 10-12 hour day and still have time for my 6 dogs! "She's tearing up our yard". How about making her a part of your family? They always tell me "We just don't want to have to stress about finding a place for her we know she'll get adopted, she's a good
dog".

Odds are your pet won't get adopted & how stressful do you think being in a shelter is? Well, let me tell you your pet has 72 hours to find a new family from the moment you drop it off sometimes a little longer if the shelter isn't full and your dog manages to stay completely healthy if it sniffles, it dies. Your pet will be confined to a small run/kennel in a room with about 25 other barking or crying animals. It will have to relieve itself where it eats and
sleeps. It will be depressed and it will cry constantly for the family that abandoned it. If your pet is lucky, I will have enough volunteers in that day to take him/her for a walk. If I don't, your pet won't get any attention besides having a bowl of food slid under the kennel door and the waste sprayed out of its pen with a high-powered hose.

If your dog is big, black or any of the "Bully" breeds (pit bull, rottie, mastiff, etc) it was pretty much dead when you walked it through the front door. Those dogs just don't get adopted. If your dog doesn't get adopted within its 72 hours and the shelter is full, it will be destroyed. If the shelter isn't full and your dog is good enough, and of a desirable enough breed it may get a stay of execution not for long though. Most get very kennel protective after about a week and are destroyed for showing aggression even the sweetest dogs will turn in this environment.

If your pet makes it over all of those hurdles chances are it will get kennel cough or an upper respiratory infection and will be destroyed because shelters just don't have the funds to pay for even a $100 treatment.

Here's a little euthanasia 101 for those of you that have never witnessed a perfectly healthy, scared animal being "put-down". First, your pet will be taken from its kennel on a leash they always look like they think they are going for a walk happy, wagging their tails. Until they get to "The Room", every one of them freaks out and puts on the brakes when we get to the door it must smell like death or they can feel the sad souls that are left in there, it's strange, but it happens with every one of them. Your dog or cat will be restrained, held down by 1 or 2 vet techs depending on the size and how freaked out they are. Then a euthanasia tech or a vet will start the process they will find a vein in the front leg and inject a lethal dose of the "pink stuff". Hopefully your pet doesn't panic from being restrained and jerk I've seen the needles tear out of a leg and been covered with the resulting blood and deafened by the yelps and screams. They all don't just "go to sleep", sometimes spasm for a while, gasp for air and defecate on themselves. When it all ends, your pets corpse will be stacked like firewood in a large freezer in the back with all of the other animals that were killed waiting to be picked up like garbage. What happens next? Cremated? Taken to the dump? Rendered into pet food? You'll never know and it probably won't even cross your mind it was just an animal and you
can always buy another one, right?

I hope that those of you that have read this are bawling your eyes out and can't get the pictures out of your head I do everyday on the way home from work. I hate my job, I hate that it exists & I hate that it will always be there unless you people make some changes and realize that the lives you are affecting go much farther than the pets you dump at a shelter. Between 9 and 11 MILLION animals die every year in shelters and only you can stop it. I do my best to save every life I can but rescues are always full, and there are more animals coming in everyday than there are homes.

My point to all of this DON'T BREED OR BUY WHILE SHELTER PETS DIE!

Hate me or flag me if you want to. The truth hurts and reality is what it is. I just hope I maybe changed one persons mind about breeding their dog, taking their loving pet to a shelter, or buying a dog. I hope that someone will walk into my shelter and say “I saw this thing on craIgslist and it made me want to adopt.

THAT WOULD MAKE IT WORTH IT.