Category Archives: homeless animals

Walking with Benny

Benny Salad Hou­dini has earned a new title:  Ambas­sador for Res­cue Dogs.

This is an unan­tic­i­pated con­se­quence of his “house” train­ing, which really means going out of Opening shot copythe house – a lot.  Small puppy blad­ders and imma­ture mus­cle con­trol mean small inter­vals between walks.  And for us, walk­ing means meet­ing lots of peo­ple.  We live in a lovely water­front city in sunny Florida where the side­walks tend to be busy with friendly folks feel­ing good about both the weather and the sur­round­ing beauty.  I hear an astound­ing num­ber of admir­ing “oohs” and “aahs” – most of them directed not at the scenery but at Benny.

I knew that Benny was cute when we adopted him,greenbag

but I never imag­ined that his but­ton face and fuzzy blonde body would actu­ally exert some kind of uncanny grav­i­ta­tional pull over gush­ing humans. baseballcap

Knees drop to the pave­ment and hands drift down­ward through the air as Benny approaches;Redjacket

peo­ple want to touch him as though he’s some sort of tal­is­man for hap­pi­ness — which he is, of course!blonde

But all this exu­ber­ant ado­ra­tion has its chal­lenges.  We’re try­ing to train Benny to sit to be pet­ted,  not to chew fin­gers or jump on peo­ple or deliver wet slurpy kisses with­out an explicit invi­ta­tionStroller– but these sud­denly lovesick humans don’t seem to mind if he breaks all the rules and climbs all over them in a wig­gling, wag­ging, lick­ing parox­ysm of pup­py­ness.  ChewToyI am con­stantly redi­rect­ing, refo­cus­ing, try­ing to train well-meaning humans as well as one extremely per­son­able puppy.

The open-armed ado­ra­tion also opened the door for Benny’s ambas­sador­ship, a role I had not antic­i­pated for him.  As admir­ers pet and coo, they almost unfail­ingly ask, “What kind of dog is he?”  I almost unfail­ingly answer, “He’s a res­cue puppy – a Shih Tzu.” Adorable Benny This is greeted with amaze­ment by an aston­ish­ing major­ity of peo­ple, who can’t con­ceive of such a dog being found any­where but at a breeder’s.  That allows us (okay, allows me; Benny’s oth­er­wise engaged) to explain that you can find almost any breed of dog you want through a res­cue group or shel­ter, where an esti­mated 25% of all dogs are pure­breds.  I explain that you can put your name on wait­ing lists at many shel­ters and get a call when the breed you are look­ing for comes in, or apply for adop­tion through res­cue groups around the coun­try, or start your search on a site like petfinder.com.  I recently read a story about a breeder who referred a cou­ple to a res­cue group when he couldn’t imme­di­ately meet their request for his brand of puppy – now that is progress!

with other dogs1But back to Ambas­sador Benny.  His work inspires and delights me.  He moti­vates peo­ple almost daily to say that they are going to start a search for their own res­cue dog. He edu­cates peo­ple who will almost cer­tainly pass on what they’ve learned. He has taught me the power of pup­py­hood to change the world one dog at a time.  I’m imag­in­ing a move­ment where vol­un­teers walk adopt­able pup­pies and adorable dogs  through city streets and spread the word, just as we are doing.

walked out and conked outAs I write this, Benny is lying walked out and conked out under my desk.  An excited lit­tle “yip” escapes his mouth every once in a while.  I don’t know what’s hap­pen­ing in his sleepy puppy brain, but I am dream­ing big dreams for him and all his kin­dred, dreams of a day where every dog finds a home — and we actu­ally need breed­ers because there are no more dogs in shel­ters hop­ing to make it out alive.

Thank you, Ambas­sador Benny Salad Hou­dini, for help­ing to draw that day closer, one step at a time. ambassador

Happy New Year!

Whether you rang the mid­night bell…

Or tucked away early….

May this first day of 2014 be more than happy for you!

If you can play with the aban­don of a puppy, cor­rect with the finesse of a cat, and apply your inge­nu­ity to make rela­tion­ships work, it should be a good year!

We hope this will bring you a smile to help kick off the New Year: watch now.

With love from our house to yours,

Lucy Mir­a­cle and Benny Salad Houdini

Furballs and bits

How do you get a 9-year old Rot­tweiler and her six pup­pies adopted out?

Easy! You put up the head­line, “63 year old gives birth to sextuplets!”

That’s just one mar­ket­ing nugget shared by Mike Arms of the Helen Wood­ward Ani­mal Cen­ter. Mike is an appar­ent mae­stro at man­ag­ing media and mes­sage in order to find homes for animals.

Get­ting ani­mals out of — or bet­ter yet, never into — shel­ters was a strong theme of the Alley Cat Allies con­fer­ence.  It’s a goal widely shared by com­pan­ion ani­mal advo­cates, and expressed as “no kill,” or more recently, “Save Them All,” coined by Best Friends Ani­mal Soci­ety.

Close to 400 of us, from 37 states, Canada, and Israel gath­ered with ACA to talk strat­egy for sav­ing cats.  (Israel’s gov­ern­ment is join­ing feralstreetcatthe move­ment, with a cash infu­sion to Trap-Neuter-Return 45,000 street cats there.) And when you save cats, you save other com­pan­ion ani­mals, because you free up space in res­cues, shel­ters, and hearts for them to find homes.

Favorite con­fer­ence quote:

The ani­mals have your hearts, but it’s your minds they need.”  Mike Arms

Okay then, let’s play “I Spy:”

When Spar­tan­burg Ani­mal Ser­vices wanted to prove that free-roaming cats pose no dra­matic dan­ger to birds, their FBI National Acad­emy alum, crim­i­nal inves­ti­ga­tor, used-to-do-narcotics-busts chief, Major Steve Lamb, tar­geted a cat judgecom­mu­nity with a bunch of birds around and then put up sur­veil­lance cam­eras to watch them. No mur­ders were wit­nessed.  Case closed.

Com­mon cents:

Also put your mind around this, Bon­ney Brown of the Humane Net­work reminds us.  When you save a cat, you are hav­ing a pos­i­tive eco­nomic impact on the com­mu­nity, through pur­chases of DOLLARSIGNKITTYfood and other sup­plies the cat will need. So money is being pumped into the econ­omy, as opposed to killing, which costs tax­pay­ers money.

Save sta­tis­tics:

Expenses asso­ci­ated with shel­ter intake, ani­mal care, and euthana­sia all go down when spay/neuter goes up.  There are sta­tis­tics and sto­ries (because every “euthana­sia” is an ani­mal who would like to live) from around the coun­try prov­ing this.  It’s even hap­pen­ing in that hub of hedo­nism, Las Vegas, at the Heaven Can Wait Ani­mal Soci­ety. (Love that name!) And in the areas where it’s hap­pen­ing most dra­mat­i­cally, Trap-Neuter-Return of com­mu­nity cats is one big rea­son why. I’m see­ing this in my own home area; check this out from the Humane Soci­ety of Tampa Bay.

And by the way:

Why are we call­ing them “shel­ters” any­way? Too few ani­mals get out of “shel­ters” alive. We are work­ing to change that, and one way would be to change our shel­ter names to “Pet Adop­tion Cen­ters,” or “Pet Vil­lages” – sev­eral names were thrown out, all of them designed to get adopters in and ani­mals out. (See “Heaven Can Wait,” above, for cre­ative nomenclature!)

The Let’s Go Get It Goal:

Let’s put catch­ing and killing in the his­tory books and file it on the  shelves.”  Becky Robin­son, pres­i­dent of Alley Cat Allies.

Becky, John, Cathy

Becky Robin­son, pres­i­dent Alley Cat Allies, John Ful­ton, host of “Must Love Cats,” (Ani­mal Planet) and Cathy Unruh, Ani­mal Advo­cate, Author of TAMING ME: Mem­oir of a Clever Island Cat

The Future is Now and she’s named Kimberly:

11-year old Kim­berly Her­nan­dez learned about TNR from a neigh­bor, cares for out­door cats, and wants to be a vet.  Here’s an excerpt from what she had to say:

KimberlyI am Kimberly.

I am the future.

I am an ani­mal lover.

I believe that I can reach all my goals because I am me.  I don’t have to change.

I believe that cats are a gift.  To live is to give them some love.

I will do my best and noth­ing less to help cats…my best and noth­ing less.

Side note on con­fer­ence chow:

The all vegan meals served up by the Hilton Crys­tal City   had non-vegans vow­ing to con­vert on the spot.  The food was beyond fantab­u­lous.  Crowd favorite:  Gardein Beef­less Strips served up asbeefless a stir fry/fajita filler.  I saw more than one per­son going back for third and fourth help­ings.  (Another beauty of bal­anced veg­an­ism:  you can do that!)

And a non-conference thank you:

bloglucymiracle

A young Lucy Mir­a­cle and Cathy Unruh

To My Three Mog­gies   for nam­ing Lucy Mir­a­cle their Novem­ber Fur Friend of the month.

Mog­gie” is a col­lo­quial British word for an every­day cat — Lucy loves her friends across the pond.  They are a furry friendly bunch!

Snippets from the Front

Work­ing on behalf of ani­mals can often hurt the heart…

there is so much suf­fer­ing and so far to go.  But every once in a while, a stretch of days comes along that gets the heart pumped up again and prac­ti­cally shouts, “HOPE! PROGRESS! POSSIBILITY!”

That’s been the case in my world the past week or so.

The No More Homeless Pets Conference Best Friends Animal Society 2013

The Best Friends Ani­mal Soci­ety No More Home­less Pets Conference

First, the ral­ly­ing cry of “Save Them All” from the 1,300 peo­ple gath­ered for the No More Home­less Pets con­fer­ence.  “Save Them All” is a pos­i­tive way of say­ing “no kill,” and it reflects the phi­los­o­phy of Best Friends Ani­mal Soci­ety, the con­fer­ence orga­nizer:  be pos­i­tive, because we can do this.  We can stop the mil­lions of deaths in ani­mal shel­ters each year.

Want to help?  Adopt, fos­ter, vol­un­teer, advo­cate for spay/neuter.  All are key to mak­ing it happen.

Francis Battista and Cathy

Cathy and Fran­cis Bat­tista: The Best Friends Ani­mal Soci­ety No More Home­less Pets Conference

For the Best Friends folks, sav­ing the ani­mals is not just a cause, it’s a call­ing — to which they’re devot­ing their lives.  As co-founder Fran­cis Bat­tista — whose sense of pur­pose is matched by his sense of fun — put it, “The spir­i­tual expresses itself as kind­ness and the most basic expres­sion of that is kind­ness to animals.”

Vegfest Florida Voices for AnimalsTampa Bay Veg­fest cel­e­brates kind­ness toward all ani­mals, from farm to fam­ily room.  Spon­sored by Florida Voices for Ani­mals, Veg­fest is a day dur­ing which you can soak up info on why a vegan diet is good for both your health and the envi­ron­ment, along with the ani­mals.  You can learn in the Vegfest  Tampa bay - the day was filled with musicspeak­ers’ hall, via videos, or hand­outs from a plethora of orga­ni­za­tions.  But per­haps the best tes­ta­ment to the joys of veg­an­ism is the boun­ti­ful selec­tion of deli­cious dishes served under a Vegfest Tampa bay offers great food sunny sky in a down­town park. It was one of those autumn days that feel more like August in the sun­shine state but peo­ple lined up to sam­ple and savor the culi­nary cre­ations.  Yum!

Passion for Pets - Humane Society of Tampa Bay

Cathy Unruh and Lucy Mir­a­cle: Pas­sion for Pets — Humane Soci­ety of Tampa Bay

And finally, it’s always a good day when Lucy Mir­a­cle gets to step out as an ambas­sador for com­pan­ion ani­mals.  She did so for the Humane Soci­ety of Tampa Bay, one of our home­town orga­ni­za­tions work­ing to Save Them All.

Together, we can.  I believe that together, we will. And it doesn’t hurt to hear it every once in a while from a few thou­sand of your fel­low believ­ers. Thank you.

Top 10 Reasons to celebrate National Feral Cat Day

10.  There’s a bit of wild­cat in all of us.catwoman 9.   Mama cats are called Queens.  Nuff said.queen-cat-by-christina-hess 8.   Ear tip­ping is at least as attrac­tive as ear gauging.eartipa
7.   Fer­als eat out­doors – it’s a picnic!Cats on picnic table
6.   Trap­ping is great exercise.cathytnr
5.  TNR is trend­ing.  Big time.trending4.  Help­ing the home­less is a higher calling.wingshalo2
3.  If the cats are cool enough for Rome’s palaz­zos, they’re cool enough for us.RomeCats_main
2.  Paws to appre­ci­ate.  Sim­ple as that.lucylake
1.  Lucy Mir­a­cle and all of her rel­a­tives – of course!Litter of kittens hidden in tree

National Feral Cat Day was founded by Alley Cat Allies in 2001.  Lucy’s book, TAMING ME: Mem­oir of a Clever Island Cat, was released on this day one year ago.Taming Me cover

Note: I appre­ci­ate all of you who e-mail me with your com­ments – but if you are com­fort­able leav­ing a reply here, please do so. It con­tributes to com­mu­nity dis­cus­sion. Thank you!

This takes balls.

The topic came to mind while I was watch­ing the base­ball playoffs —

or more specif­i­cally, watch­ing the num­ber of times the play­ers were crotchadjustmantshown clutch­ing their crotches, re-positioning their pack­ages, bunk­ing their junk…OK, OK, I know they are (mostly) adjust­ing their pro­tec­tive cups, but still.  Some­day I may count the num­ber of on-camera crotch grabs ver­sus sloppy spits. It should be quite a matchup.

Any­way, this touch­ing dis­play of testos­terone reminded me of some­thing that hit me like a screw­ball to the solar plexus when I first heard about it:  cos­metic tes­tic­u­lar implants for dogs.  Yep, you heard me right:  cos­metic tes­tic­u­lar implants for dogs. The dog­gie doc­tor pitch­ing this pro­ce­dure said things like, “It will restore the animal’s nat­ural look,” and “It can encour­age peo­ple to neuter who oth­er­wise wouldn’t.”  I don’t remem­ber his sell­ing points exactly; I was strug­gling for air.neuticlenatural3

Once I recov­ered, I did some research and sure enough, the “Neu­ti­cles web­site extols the product’s abil­ity to allow “pets to retain their nat­ural look, self esteem (sic) and aids the pet’s owner with the trauma asso­ci­ated with alter­ing.”  The poster pair on the home page is none Kimanddogrockyother than that cul­tural icon of self­less­ness and empa­thy for all crea­tures, Kim Kar­dashian, and her dog Rocky (who received his implants on TV, natch).

Now I’m not sure about Kim, but I’ve known a lot of ani­mals both pre and post-neutering, and if they have suf­fered a drop in self-esteem, I’ve some­how failed to notice it.  Anec­do­tally, dogs may be a tad less manandbabydom­i­neer­ing — or is that more relaxed? — after their testos­terone lev­els drop. Switch­ing species just for a sec­ond, sci­ence sug­gests that men with smaller tes­ti­cles are more likely to take an active, nur­tur­ing role in child rear­ing.  Hmm, is any of this a problem?

But back to just dogs.  Maybe this machismo man­i­fes­ta­tion will catch on (or maybe not; only half a mil­lion have sold in the eigh­teen years since intro­duc­tion).   I’m for almost any­thing that encour­ages peo­ple tosmiling dog humanely reduce the home­less ani­mal pop­u­la­tion and its con­comi­tant killing in shel­ters, so if tes­tic­u­lar implants help do the job, fine.  They may indeed give com­fort to human males who are still squea­mish about the idea of remov­ing part of a dog’s “manhood.”

intact dogThey may also, how­ever, pose a social dilemma for vocal spay/neuter advo­cates.  Let’s say you see an intact dog on the street and your instinct is to ask his human whether he’s for­got­ten to have the dog altered, or whether he’s sport­ing a pair of Neu­ti­cles.  Is the ques­tion more akin to remark­ing, “Excuse me, sir, but I couldn’t help notic­ing that your fly is open,” or ask­ing, “Excuse me, ma’am, but are those real?”

Either way, I have to admit that the entre­pre­neur who con­ceived of falsie canine cajones is just doing some­thing that’s as tra­di­tion­ally Amer­i­can as, well, base­ball.  He fielded an idea, drafted a team, and put a prod­uct in play that takes balls – in this case, sil­i­cone ones. Or per­haps polypropy­lene. Depends how big your sac – oh, excuse me! wal­let – is.

—There are meth­ods which keep canines “intact” while ren­der­ing them infer­tile.  The FDA has approved a drug that works via injec­tion to the testes; Zeuterin’s inven­tors say it’s too soon to know whether it will sup­press mat­ing behav­iors. Vasec­tomy is also an option, but the drive to mate is clearly unchanged.baseballnote

 

 

Fur? Seriously?

I hope you don’t mind receiv­ing this blog post again. We received such a pos­i­tive response that we are re-posting. Thank you for your support!

That ques­tion fired up my brain when an acquain­tance men­tioned an item in her new “lux­ury” prod­uct line – a sleep­ing bag lined with the coat of a sil­ver fox. I stepped away from the con­ver­sa­tion quickly, before my grief and dis­may could move from my mind and escape my mouth. This was the socially accept­able thing to do at the time, but the sor­row of that moment has refused to leave me. Take a look at just one rea­son why. silver+fox+5

This is a sil­ver fox. He’s beau­ti­ful, isn’t he? And smart.  And con­scious, shar­ing many of the sen­sa­tions we humans expe­ri­ence, includ­ing plea­sure, fear and pain.  And yet the sil­ver fox and dozens of other ani­mals graced with what should be their own per­sonal furry pro­tec­tion are made to suf­fer hor­ren­dous fates in order that we might usurp their skins.

The fur trade is a ghastly, grisly busi­ness.  I will not be too graphic here (the links are more explicit), because if you care one iota about ani­mals, the real­ity of it is ter­ri­bly dif­fi­cult to stom­ach.  But – the weather is turn­ing chilly and we’re reach­ing for warm gar­ments, fash­ion con­tin­ues to include fur, and new “lux­ury” lines are being launched that may increase the num­ber of ani­mals cur­rently being skinned in the name of human indul­gence.  I want you to know about it.  I want you to be able to make a con­scious deci­sion on whether you will participate.

And it is a choice:  we do not need fur.  We are not cave­men headed out with our clubs to try and score a pelt in which to sur­vive the win­ter. We have a plethora of styl­ish syn­thetic fab­rics avail­able to keep us warm – I wear them in win­ter tem­per­a­tures that some­times reach 30 below.  Yet an esti­mated 50 mil­lion ani­mals die each year solely for their skins.  These ani­mals include dogs and cats. Some of them – and this is one of the most hor­ri­ble things to think about — are skinned alive.  Most of them are bred, born, and butchered on fur farms.  The hous­ing here is com­monly a stack of bar­ren wire cages. Clausen8 Their cap­tives may be housed indi­vid­u­ally or crammed together. Con­di­tions can be so hor­ren­dous that many of the ani­mals go insane before they meet their ends.  And their ends are bru­tal — humans don’t want to dam­age their “prod­uct.”  So slaugh­ter meth­ods that leave the ani­mals’ pelts intact are used, such as elec­tro­cu­tion via a rod in the anus, and gas cham­bers.  (And remem­ber, these are the more for­tu­nate ones.  They are dead before their skins are sliced off.) Some­times, if it’s not deemed too costly for the even­tual bot­tom line, lethal injec­tion is used.  The ani­mal may be par­a­lyzed but still con­scious when the skin­ning starts.

Furry ani­mals in the wild don’t fare much bet­ter when it comes to the end of their lives. Traps range from the purely ter­ri­fy­ing to the exquis­itely tor­tur­ous.  lynx in trap You’ve prob­a­bly heard sto­ries about ani­mals who will do almost any­thing to escape, includ­ing chew­ing off their own legs.injuredfox And then there is the annual whole­sale slaugh­ter of baby seals in Canada; this is done pretty much cave­man style.

Heard enough? There is faux or fake fur on the mar­ket, for peo­ple who want to make a more eth­i­cal or even a less expen­sive choice.  But beware:  not all the fur is actu­ally fake.  Some­times the label­ing is sim­ply false. There are ways that you can dis­cern the truth before you decide whether to pur­chase. And if you want to steer com­pletely clear of the issue, you can patron­ize fur-free retail­ers.

We humans enjoy many lux­u­ries.  Among them is the abil­ity to make con­sid­ered, con­sci­en­tious deci­sions about what we will and will not indulge in for the sake of fash­ion (and food, and fun, and so forth).  The ulti­mate lux­ury may be liv­ing in a place and time (Here! Now!) where we are free to make the com­pas­sion­ate choice.  I hope you will.  I hope you do.  Because I promise you:  a clear con­science feels a whole lot bet­ter than fur.

“You can judge the moral­ity of a nation by the way the soci­ety treats its ani­mals” –Mahatma Gandhi

Note:  I appre­ci­ate all of you who e-mail me with your com­ments – but if you are com­fort­able leav­ing a reply here, please do so.  It con­tributes to com­mu­nity dis­cus­sion. Thank you!

Pets before Profits”

Sup­pose Adam, Eve, and a ser­pent were each offer­ing to sell you an iden­ti­cal apple -

same size, same color, same sweet­ness — for the price of four fig leaves. The ser­pent planned to use the fig leaves as cam­ou­flage.  Eve intended to turn the fig leaves into a new skirt. Adam planned to feed his fig leaves to the hun­gry doe who had just given birth to a fawn. Which apple would you buy?

If you chose Adam’s apple, then you just might be the ideal cus­tomer for a new busi­ness – one that, like Adam, promises to use its

Dr. Glenn Buckley

Glenn Buck­ley, DVM

pro­ceeds to help ani­mals.  Except that in this case, the prod­ucts are pet treats, toys and other sup­plies, with the pri­mary empha­sis on pet phar­ma­ceu­ti­cals. Glenn Buck­ley, the vet­eri­nar­ian who founded Pet Res­cue Rx along with his brother Scott, got in touch to intro­duce him­self and share their vision:  all net prof­its to ani­mal shel­ters.  “I have reached an age when I can really appre­ci­ate what money can­not buy:  my health, my life partner…time spent walk­ing my dogs and watch­ing them play.  I want to share that appre­ci­a­tion for life by what I can give back through this busi­ness,” says Buck­ley, whose title is CEO.

Scott Buckley,  President and Computer Guru

Scott Buck­ley,  Pres­i­dent and Com­puter Guru

Giv­ing some­thing back is not a new con­cept, thank­fully.  There are any num­ber of com­pa­nies that donate a por­tion of their prof­its to help ani­mals; adoptashelter.com is one of the best known.  1–800-PetMeds, which adver­tises itself as “America’s Largest Pet Phar­macy,” says it donates thou­sands of dol­lars in pet sup­plies and med­ica­tions to shel­ters.  What sets Pet Res­cue Rx apart is the promise to donate all net prof­its.  “I’m run­ning into some skep­ti­cism,” says Buck­ley, with a note of what sounds like res­ig­na­tion in his voice.  “But we’re doing this for the same rea­sons vol­un­teers at shel­ters do:  to get the money where it needs to go.”

Buck­ley says his eyes were opened to the needs of shel­ter ani­mals when he vol­un­teered in one, and started brain­storm­ing a new way of 995834_379259572180130_1319919697_asub­si­diz­ing them.  He likens his busi­ness model to Newman’s Own, which fun­nels all after-tax prof­its to human causes.  Newman’s Own says that’s about $370 mil­lion so far.  How much will Pet Res­cue Rx con­tribute?  It’s far too soon to know, as the com­pany just opened in June.  And when finan­cials are avail­able, they do not have to be dis­closed:  Pet Res­cue Rx is not a 501©3 and is not pub­licly held.  Buck­ley says that he is cur­rently fund­ing the startup via his two ani­mal emer­gency clin­ics in Florida and not tak­ing a salary.  Both of those things will likely change if Pet Res­cue Rx takes off.  But he vows that it will always be, “Pets Before Prof­its,” the company’s motto.

Buck­ley says he’s com­pet­i­tively priced with other online pet phar­ma­cies (and here’s where the anal­ogy comes in) because, “when you’re all sell­ing apples, you have to be.” He’s being choosy about his apples, though, car­ry­ing prod­ucts from other “do good” com­pa­nies “out there to make a dif­fer­ence,” like Halo Pet, John Paul Pet Prod­ucts, and yes: Newman’s Own Organic Pet Treats. “I have been given a gift, as we all have, to cre­ate some­thing which can have a greater impact for good.  We should all look within our­selves to find that and let it grow.”

Pet Rescue RX

Glenn and Scott out­side the phar­macy with Roz and Geri.

Growth going for­ward will be largely up to shop­pers. It’s cer­tainly a con­cept that holds promise, and entic­ing to those who care about the esti­mated 6–8 mil­lion ani­mals who enter U.S. shel­ters each year, half of them only to face a death sen­tence.  They could use the help.  If Pet Res­cue Rx should bear fruit, we can only hope — and per­haps even allow our­selves to trust — that Buck­ley will keep his promise.

Note:  Pet Res­cue Rx hopes to become licensed in all 50 states.  At this writ­ing, it is get­ting close to halfway there.

Summer Road Trips with the Family

Wagon…HO!

I remem­ber the excite­ment and antic­i­pa­tion as my three broth­ers and I scram­bled into the sta­tion wagon, Dad behind the wheel and Mom han­dling the maps, lug­gage rack on the roof. I would look back at the horses, cows, cats, dogs, rab­bits, sheep — whichever crea­tures hap­pened to be inhab­it­ing our hobby farm at the moment, some of them stand­ing watch as the car pulled around the dri­ve­way and turned onto the rural road, car­ry­ing us to excit­ing new adven­tures and explorations.

For a week or two, I wouldn’t be pet­ting sheep, con­vers­ing with cows, rid­ing my pony, crawl­ing into the straw-bedded dog­house for a snug­gle with our col­lie, car­ry­ing cats and rab­bits into my play­house, romp­ing through the pas­tures, fill­ing the water trough, side­step­ping the manure, muck­ing stalls, or feel­ing the deli­cious tickle of a horse’s lips tak­ing treats from my palm.

I was priv­i­leged to grow up sur­rounded by ani­mals, to learn the traits of var­i­ous species, the per­son­al­i­ties of indi­vid­u­als, the many ways in which ani­mals think, feel, and express — and the ways that ani­mals we domes­ti­cate depend upon us for their sus­te­nance: phys­i­cal, psy­cho­log­i­cal, and emo­tional. I wish that every child could have that priv­i­lege, and that every adult who’s missed it could make up for it now. So I have a vaca­tion sug­ges­tion: don’t travel away from the ani­mals, as I did: travel to them!

On the south­ern bor­der of Utah, just above the Ari­zona line, cerulean skywhere rust red cliffs glim­mer against the cerulean sky, and long stretches of open space call to mind set­tlers and cow­boys, their horses kick­ing up adobe dust, sits an expan­sive par­cel of par­adise on earth. Nes­tled in Angel Canyon is Best Friends Ani­mal Sanc­tu­ary, where abused, aban­doned and neglected ani­mals who have nowhere else to go find refuge and a level of com­pas­sion­ate care that leaves me search­ing for prop­erly descrip­tive words. Best Friends Animal Society“Ded­i­cated” is too shal­low. “Heart­warm­ing” is too trite. “Breath­tak­ing” is barely hyper­bole. Ani­mals that would be con­sid­ered hope­less else­where – injured, crip­pled, chron­i­cally dis­eased – and likely des­tined for euthana­sia are instead reha­bil­i­tated to their great­est poten­tial and given life­long care. Or, bet­ter yet and in every instance pos­si­ble, adopted out to for­ever homes.

Sanctuary sign copyBegun by a group of bud­dies back in the 1980’s, the 3,700 acre sanctuary’s name is a pro­pos for both the founders and the ben­e­fi­cia­ries of Best Friends Ani­mal Soci­ety. It started with a few home­less dogs and cats and now, enlarged by another 17,000 acres of leased land, it includes horses, mules, goats, sheep, don­keys, pigs, rab­bits, birds, and even injured and orphaned wildlife in need of care so that they can once again roam or fly free. These days, the aver­age ani­mal pop­u­la­tion is around 1,700 – and you are wel­come to visit them, vol­un­teer to work with them, maybe even take one (or two?) home. (Note: you do not have Panthegoatto per­son­ally visit the Best Friends sanc­tu­ary in order to adopt one of the ani­mals in their care.)

Free tours are offered every day at the sanc­tu­ary, and vol­un­teers are asked to sign up ahead of time. Care is taken to match vol­un­teers with appro­pri­ate ani­mals accord­ing to their inter­ests, ages, and phys­i­cal abil­i­ties. If you have the oppor­tu­nity to vol­un­teer, do! If you’ve never been truly “in touch” with ani­mals, this can be a life-changing expe­ri­ence. And if you already know and care for ani­mals, you’ll likely find new expe­ri­ences. Cat on leash copyIt was at Best Friends that I first walked a cat on a leash, fed a pot­bel­lied pig, and spent an entire after­noon scoop­ing rab­bit poop! You can do some­thing as down, dirty and nec­es­sary as pick­ing up poop, as sooth­ing as sit­ting with a cat in your lap, giv­ing him or her per­sonal atten­tion and pet­ting, or as adven­tur­ous as tak­ing a com­pan­ion ani­mal on an excur­sion off premises.

cottage view copyStay­ing on the sanc­tu­ary grounds enhances the expe­ri­ence. There are a lim­ited num­ber of cab­ins and cot­tages avail­able to vis­i­tors. They are com­fort­able, and the scenery is awe­some: the red rock moun­tains as back­ground to horses play­ing in the pas­ture, the sun set­ting over another day of kind­ness. sleepoverYou can even enjoy a sleep­over with an ani­mal and offer your impres­sions of his or her per­son­al­ity and tem­pera­ment to Best Friends staff. That helps when mak­ing adop­tive matches. When I was there, a pot­bel­lied pig ambas­sador was eli­gi­ble for sleep­overs and was quite the cov­eted guest! If you’re stay­ing in an RV or other accom­mo­da­tion, no prob­lem. You’re wel­come to share your space and affec­tions with eli­gi­ble can­di­dates there, as well.

I was so besot­ted with the sanc­tu­ary that I passed on the sight­see­ing dur­ing my visit, but you can make this as much of a var­ied vaca­tion as you want. The near­est town is Kanab, five miles away. Sev­eral lodg­ings — hotels, motels, pri­vate res­i­dences — are avail­able and many offer pet friendly space with a Best Friends dis­count. You can visit numer­ous state and national parks and wilder­ness areas; go golf­ing, bik­ing, swim­ming, kayak­ing, ATV­ing; explore the “Old West” areas where movies and TV shows were filmed; enjoy art gal­leries; attend the local theater…

But first and fore­most, I hope you’ll expe­ri­ence the ani­mals and soak up the ele­vated air of com­pas­sion and dig­nity for all who exist here. Intro­duc­ing a child to this mar­velous assort­ment of sen­tient crea­tures and the humans who care for them may inform that child’s sen­si­bil­i­ties for a life­time. Get­ting hands on with the ani­mals as an adult could alter your own view – and even expand your house­hold, should you decide to take a new best friend home.adoptionpromo

With wishes that you’ll get to be a part of Best Friends Ani­mal Sanc­tu­ary some­day – and for safe, happy sum­mer travels,

Cathy

 

 

WANDERING CUBA

I’ve just returned from Cuba, a trip endorsed by the U.S. gov­ern­ment as a peo­ple to peo­ple edu­ca­tional exchange. The Cuban gov­ern­ment (“state,” to Cubans) pro­vided our local guide. We saw what the gov­ern­ment wanted us to see. We stayed where the gov­ern­ment wanted us to stay. We vis­ited rural areas, moun­tains, beaches, small towns, the capital.Havana apartment building copy

The first and relent­less impres­sion is that Cuba’s clock stopped tick­ing some­where circa the late 50’s or in many cases, decades ear­lier. Tech­nol­ogy, mod­ern means of pro­duc­tion, and res­i­den­tial com­forts as we know them seem truly for­eign con­cepts here. In nearly every locale, the poverty is soul dead­en­ing. And that is just in look­ing at it, not liv­ing it.

In the coun­try, the peo­ple live in shacks, pri­mar­ily of wood. Holes gape from their sides, not all of them win­dows. We visit two farm­houses which by com­par­i­son are lux­u­ri­ous. They fea­ture sev­eral rooms, glass win­dows, porches. One is the home of a third gen­er­a­tion tobacco farmer and his fam­ily. He is mat­ter of fact with an occa­sional smile. The state allows him to enter­tain tourists because he is a top pro­ducer. He knows that should he slip, the state might take his land. Cur­rently, the state claims 95 per­cent of his crop and pays him what it wishes. As is com­mon across Cuba, the money is not enough to live on. The other farm is open to us as a model of organic farm­ing and Cat eating cucumbereco­log­i­cal sus­tain­abil­ity. Its stew­ards appear happy, ener­getic, enthused. Learn­ing of my veg­an­ism at lunch, the wife requests a “momento eco­log­i­cal,” and returns hold­ing Gato, a cat who enthu­si­as­ti­cally crunches cucumber.

In the towns, attached sin­gle story build­ings line the cob­ble­stone streets like dor­mi­to­ries, hous­ing small apart­ments. Doors hang open, grab­bing breaths of air. We can see the inte­ri­ors, win­dow­less multi-function rooms that hold what passes for a kitchen, a table, a sit­ting area, some­times a bed. Some thor­ough­fares blos­som with mod­est stand-alone homes, even patches of lawn and flow­ers. The houses are gen­er­ally uni­form, box after box of the same size and shape.

In the cap­i­tal, 20 per­cent of the island’s pop­u­la­tion crowd together in anti­quated high rises, low rises, dilap­i­dated houses. Build­ings lit­er­ally col­lapse here Havana housing2 copyocca­sion­ally, tak­ing their occu­pants with them. These are called “der­rumbes,” for a giant rum­bling fol­lowed by rub­ble and grief. Even land­mark struc­tures – muse­ums, gov­ern­ment agen­cies, embassies – are bruised and decay­ing, although the state is now under­tak­ing a Havana over­haul in an effort to reha­bil­i­tate the largest tourist attrac­tion in the coun­try. We are dri­ven through the grand­est res­i­den­tial sec­tion, large homes from which we are told the wealth­i­est cit­i­zens fled Fidel. It resem­bles all the rest: the entire coun­try seems to be crum­bling, in need of shoring up or at least a coat of paint. Rot­ting wood and dingy cement glare through splotches of long-faded veneer. Hand-washed laun­dry on lines is part of the scenery from coast to coast, hang­ing from the yards of coun­try hov­els to the win­dows of city apartments.

Machines are relics, from the 1950’s Amer­i­can cars mirac­u­lously main­tained to the Soviet era tobacco farmer’s trac­tor to the diesel oper­ated water pumps that Radio copycould well date back to World War II to this radio, the prop­erty of a potter’s fam­ily. The occa­sional rust­ing air con­di­tioner graces a win­dow. 15 per­cent of the peo­ple, we are told, have access to the inter­net. Pub­lic phones are a pri­mary means of Public phone copycom­mu­ni­ca­tion.

We actu­ally con­verse with very few Cubans, shep­herded through our stops. Our guide, a viva­cious woman in her thir­ties, shares what she says is “her real­ity,” as she has never left the home­land. She is happy with “the tri­umph of the rev­o­lu­tion,” the repet­i­tively uttered term for the 1959 Cas­tro coup – the state pro­vides health care and edu­ca­tion. She claims to be both igno­rant of and not curi­ous about where or how the broth­ers Cas­tro live. She knows only how they travel: in car­a­vans of lux­ury carsOld car copy with ambu­lance and police escorts. But she is openly frus­trated at the sub­sis­tence salaries, the inabil­ity to buy or even find a car, the irony of being per­mit­ted to travel abroad when she doesn’t have the money to do so.

Food rations doled out by the state do not fill the table. Soap, sham­poo, tooth­paste and toi­let paper are all expen­sive extras. Remit­tances — money sent from rel­a­tives and friends in Amer­ica and else­where – prop up the offi­cial econ­omy and fuel the black mar­ket on which Cubans depend. A good job is one that has some­thing you can pil­fer to sell on the black mar­ket in exchange for food, clothes, toi­letries, house­hold needs.

Are peo­ple happy, we ask? They’d bet­ter be, says a Cuban cit­i­zen we meet one morn­ing at break­fast. Because peo­ple still dis­ap­pear, he says. Per­haps they go to prison and then their fam­i­lies hear they died there in an “acci­dent.” They never see the body, he tells us. There is no autopsy report. Nonethe­less, his fam­ily likes it here. He doesn’t. He’s just vis­it­ing. He’s also an Amer­i­can cit­i­zen, an ocean borne escapee 21 years ago.

Cathy with street cat copyAnd then there are the ani­mals. Every­where. Oxen plow the fields, planted and har­vested by hand. Goats work as lawn­mow­ers. Cat­tle graze on the brown grass of dry sea­son. Horses do it all: farm chores, fam­ily trans­porta­tion, cart rides for cash. Roost­ers, chick­ens, guinea fowl and turkeys rake yards and fields. Pink piglets frolic on a lawn. A few doors down, a fat­tened adult lies on a plat­form being skinned. I try to take com­fort in the rel­a­tive free­dom many open air “food ani­mals” are given until they meet their grisly ends. (Guns are tightly con­trolled here. Few farm­ers have them. Tools are largely antiques. Your imag­i­na­tion can com­plete the slaugh­ter sce­nar­ios.) Cir­cling vul­tures are ubiquitous.

bullSad­dled Brah­man bulls with ropes pierc­ing their noses offer trans­port and enter­tain tourists. Cocks are bred for fight­ing. Horses and don­keys are whipped with ropes and chain link. Many of their beaten backs are bony, under­fed. A mus­cled man, cig­a­rette in hand, simul­ta­ne­ously spurs and reins in his horse, send­ing it into a tail­spin for the amuse­ment of onlook­ers. Caged birds hang from door­jambs like decorations.

Dog with teats-RecoveredCats and dogs roam both rural and urban areas. Street dogs sur­vive on scraps and hand­outs, grate­ful for the occa­sional ear scratch. CathyScratching dog copyPromi­nent teats and swollen milk sacs attest to hid­den pup­pies. Spay­ing, neu­ter­ing, vac­ci­na­tions – these are rare except for some lucky pets and in Havana, street dogs who are col­lared and claimed by restau­rants as mas­cots. Cats hunt to sur­vive. Tourist stops and table sides are fer­tile grounds. A lucky few make their liv­ing in open door hotels.Cat in restaurant-Recovered

We leave the plight of the land ani­mals to spot birds in the woods: war­blers, hawks, wood­peck­ers, the bee hum­ming­bird – small­est bird in the world – sap suck­ers, the Cuban para­keet. Our hik­ing guide says the para­keet will kill itself if caged; it wants its inde­pen­dence. This is the national bird.

Lunch is an intact pig, his lively brain roasted along with the rest of his body. “It is cruel,” the hik­ing guide con­cedes to me in an aside. “But we need it.” My Amer­i­can com­pan­ions are appar­ently unfazed. They stop for pho­tos. They eat the freshly shred­ded corpse with gusto. I slip away and have a lit­tle cry. For the pig, for all the ani­mals, for the poverty of the peo­ple, for Cuba, for the cru­elty which spans our world from dic­ta­tors to diners.

What does the future hold for Cuba? Who knows? Years more of social­ism? A shot at cap­i­tal­ism? Offi­cial rela­tions with Amer­ica? KFCs and fac­tory farms? The right to openly earn one’s own money? The breeze of change is whis­per­ing. Small pri­vate busi­nesses now dot the land­scape, licensed and taxed by the state. Many cit­i­zens can now travel abroad. Raul has given his pres­i­dency a deadline.

On the day we head home, the wind is whip­ping – toward the north. I am glad to go with it.