Tag Archives: Humane Society of the United States

My Wedding Anniversary…

Warn­ing:

If you are uncom­fort­able learn­ing inti­mate details of a rela­tion­ship, do not read on. If, how­ever, you accept voyeurism as an inalien­able Amer­i­can enjoy­ment, then please: step into my bedroom.

The day begins like nearly every other. Whether our alarm sounds at 5:00 or we sleep in until the sun beck­ons brightly through the win­dow, time for togeth­er­ness is always part of the morn­ing. My hus­band gets up, show­ers, and returns to the bed­room, where the object of his affec­tion lies drift­ing in and out of a lux­u­ri­ous doze, dream­ing in antic­i­pa­tion. As he approaches the bed, smelling of freshly soaped skin, herbal sham­poo, minty tooth­paste, coconut sun­screen — a deli­cious morn­ing mélange — doz­ing morphs into con­scious­ness and a long, lux­u­ri­ous stretch upon the com­forter, still redo­lent with sleep. Antic­i­pa­tion mounts to expec­ta­tion. Expec­ta­tion, built upon the mem­o­ries of so many morn­ings prior to this one, induces an invol­un­tary quiv­er­ing, as though the skin is ris­ing up of its own accord to meet the hands about to descend upon it. And then the caresses begin.

My husband’s pow­er­ful fin­gers set­tle into the back of the head, gen­tly teas­ing the brain into total wake­ful­ness. They travel down the spine, dig­ging deli­ciously into either side of the back until they reach that region that moti­vates the body, mind­lessly giv­ing itself up to sen­sa­tion, to turn over and invite more caresses, offer­ing up its most vul­ner­a­ble areas in com­plete trust, with­out reservation…

It is, I admit, an envi­able way to wel­come the day. I am, I admit, occa­sion­ally envi­ous. Because I am talk­ing, of course, about the dog. Anniver­sary, birth­day, hol­i­day, every day: Wee Willie Winky gets a morn­ing mas­sage before his walk in the park.

It took me years to soften my spouse to the point where he would accept a dog in our house­hold, already pop­u­lated with cats. When I sus­pected that the time was just about right, I called friends at our local shel­ters to let them know what I was look­ing for: a small dog who could travel, wasn’t inclined to be yappy and wouldn’t shed too, too much. The very next day, the call came: an alleged puppy mill run­ner from Alabama had been busted sell­ing six week old dogs out of the back of his pickup truck in the unfor­giv­ing Florida sun. I took this pre­cious, tired Shih Tzu home, cud­dled on my lap.Willie croppeda I walked into my husband’s office and said, “Close your eyes and hold out your hands.” The puppy fit entirely into his palms. Tom looked into his gen­tly Willie 3picblink­ing eyes and instantly named him. That first night, Willie slept for a dozen unin­ter­rupted hours, on his back in his brand new puppy bed with his legs straight up in the air, exhausted.

The love affair between spouse and Shih Tzu took some time to develop. Tom hadn’t lived with a dog before and he was some­what slow to suc­cumb to Willie’s con­sid­er­able charms. But once he opened him­self to the expe­ri­ence and began bond­ing with play time,bathtime snug­gle time, bath time, there was no deny­ing it: my place as most loved mem­ber of his fam­ily was being chal­lenged. And with valid his­tor­i­cal and sci­en­tific reason.

Wolves, from whom dogs descended, are believed to have first turned to humans for food and shel­ter, while humans wel­comed the wolves’ pro­tec­tion, hunt­ing prowess, and even­tu­ally, their warmth, affec­tion, and empa­thy. 24rDogs can “read” their humans in extra­or­di­nary ways: a sim­ple move­ment of the body or even the eyes can speak vol­umes to your canine com­pan­ion about your inten­tions. Your dog very likely can under­stand and even share your emo­tions. Dogs and humans have the same brain struc­ture, includ­ing the amyg­dala, which is linked to emo­tional and psy­cho­log­i­cal states. Dogs and humans also share many of the same hor­mones. Fur­ther­more, a recent study sug­gests that sev­eral sets of genes in humans and dogs evolved along the same time­line, likely as a result of liv­ing together.

There are rea­sons other than sci­en­tific for the pro­found love between man and dog too, of course. I, along with most humans, absolutely refuse to run to the door every time my hus­band comes home (whether he’s been gone five days or five min­utes), wig­gling my fanny like a feather in the wind. I decline to lie on the floor at his feet, gaz­ing up at his face with naked love in my eyes. I will not pant in antic­i­pa­tion of a leisurely walk in the evening.

But I will — and do — work on man­ag­ing my envy. After all, I “gave” Willie as a gift and thus am happy to accept the shar­ing of affec­tions. Besides: I am madly in love with Willie too. Happy anniver­sary, sweetie.

11monthswide

Note: actual spousal inter­ac­tions on our anniver­sary have been omit­ted in def­er­ence to tra­di­tional deco­rum – and so that my mother does not expire pre­ma­turely from mortification.

 

Just a Whisker Away

Can you feel it, just a whisker away?

The promise of breezes lift­ing the cur­tains, naps in the after­noon sun, play­times spent wrestling, climb­ing a tree, bat­ting a ball around? Ah, sum­mer. kitty hammockMemo­r­ial week­end approaches, the unof­fi­cial start of the exalted sea­son – and of another, less well known. It’s the height of kit­ten sea­son. Thou­sands of kit­tens born and nur­tured in the spring are now mature enough to find homes.

Can you imag­ine it? Kit­tens inhal­ing the fresh air through the win­dow, nestling in the sun’s rays, play­ing with the zest of a young­ster dis­cov­er­ing new games each day? Might your home have room for more love and an extra dash of joy? As the French writer Jean Cocteau said, “I love cats because I enjoy my home, and lit­tle by lit­tle, they become its vis­i­ble soul.” If you’ve never lived with a cat or kit­ten, this may mys­tify you. Many peo­ple still think of cats as elu­sive, inde­pen­dent crea­tures who turn up their noses at even their clos­est humans except for when it suits them – like meal time. But as Cocteau knew, cats can gladly offer their lively spir­its and ready adopt-a-shelter-cat-monthaffec­tion if we are open to them – and lit­tle by lit­tle, we come to real­ize that home is where the cat is. But far too many cats are left won­der­ing where the home is.

An esti­mated four mil­lion cats wind up in shel­ters across our coun­try each year. They extend their paws through their cages at the work­ers and vis­i­tors pass­ing by: notice me! Notice me! They rub against the wires and purr: pet me! Pet me! They live as fully as pos­si­ble within their con­fines: Catincage1play with the toys, lap up the food and water, use the lit­ter box, snug­gle with their cage mates. I hope they don’t know what lies around the cor­ner or down the hall if they can­not entice an adopter: the euthana­sia room. 70 per­cent of shel­ter cats are car­ried there.

So June is Adopt a Cat Month, also known as Adopt a Shel­ter Cat month, because this is when shel­ters are most crowded with kit­tens and when you catincagehandsbwhave a mar­velous oppor­tu­nity to add to your fam­ily and save a life or more. I always rec­om­mend at least two cats, for mul­ti­ple rea­sons. They will be hap­pier when no humans are at home, because they have each other. You will be more enter­tained, watch­ing the cats play together. And you’ll get more attention!

The extra care and expense of an addi­tional cat are min­i­mal. Although this is con­sid­ered sac­ri­lege in some cor­ners, I find that one lit­ter box can do nicely, if it’s cleaned often. (My three cats have a choice of two lit­ter boxes, one indoors and one on the catio. They stead­fastly ignore the catio box and hap­pily share the indoor one.) More food is required, but cats are not gar­gan­tuan con­sumers. You’ll also need to pro­vide enter­tain­ment, which doesn’t have to mean Fred in a boxexpen­sive toys. Cats are happy to chase the prover­bial yarn, and they love boxes, tis­sue and wrap­ping paper, and any num­ber of nat­ural play­things already in your home. Among those play­things should be sur­faces they are allowed to scratch: wood, car­pet, card­board. These can all be pur­chased or you can make your own cat scratch­ers cheaply and eas­ily. And you’ll want to write an annual vet­eri­nary visit into your bud­get – but that comes later. Shel­ter ani­mals are spayed, neutered, vac­ci­nated, and often microchipped before they are released. At most shel­ters, adop­tion fees are kept as min­i­mal as possible.

And it’s not just kit­tens who are on bor­rowed time at shel­ters, wait­ing for homes. There are cats of all ages avail­able, from high-energy ado­les­cents to stately elders look­ing for a warm hearth and snug­gly lap. Not sure who is right for you? Ask your shelter’s staff. They’ll help you find the match to suit your time, tem­pera­ment, and environment.

May 22 Blog Pic Cathy copy2So go ahead: spice up your sum­mer if you can. Adopt a Cat. Then, when the too-brief sea­son slips away and the chill creeps in, you’ll have your friends to keep you warm.

 

 

 

DEMOCRACY, ADVOCACYAND YOU?

Warn­ing:  I am about to use a word that often car­ries neg­a­tive con­no­ta­tions.  A word that makes some peo­ple cringe.  Ready?  Here it is:  lobby.  Not as in the room where you wait, but as in the activ­ity that you do.  As in lobby your leg­is­la­tors.  As in be a lob­by­ist.  These words can con­jure up images of back rooms, money sacks, quiet hand­offs, hand­shakes and secret deals – and evoke aver­sion, even deri­sion.  But I would like you to know that I am a lob­by­ist.  I lobby.  And fur­ther­more, I hope that you do too — or will.

Lob­by­ing is part of our pre­cious demo­c­ra­tic process.  Lob­by­ing can be wholly above board, Gathering en massehon­or­able, out in the open…“in the sun­shine,” as we say here in Florida about our gov­ern­ment and the way we’re sup­posed to run it.  It can be a per­sonal phone call, let­ter or e-mail to your leg­is­la­tor; it can be a peti­tion; it can be an appear­ance en masse with oth­ers on your Capi­tol steps or at your legislator’s door.  It can be on any issue that you care about – you won’t be sur­prised that I am going to address the issue of ani­mal welfare.

Humane Lobby Days are con­ducted around the coun­try under the aus­pices of the Humane Soci­ety Animals don't have a voiceof the United States. It’s a time for those who care about ani­mals to con­verge on their state­houses and give voice to the voice­less.  The other ani­mals don’t get a vote.  It’s up to us humans to find votes for them.

In Tal­la­has­see, where I par­tic­i­pated in Humane Lobby Day, there is a great chance that an ani­mal cru­elty bill will pass both cham­bers this year.  The bill would crack down in sev­eral ways on var­i­ousAnimal Cruelty Bill acts of ani­mal cru­elty and orga­nized crime at staged ani­mal fights. A mea­sure that would require ani­mal shel­ters to put their num­bers out in the sun­shine – how many ani­mals taken in, how many adopted out, how many euth­a­nized – is des­tined for the governor’s desk.  Humane lob­by­ists have sev­eral goals in my state:  end­ing grey­hound rac­ing, endors­ing Trap Neuter Return, pro­tect­ing both dogs and con­sumers from puppy mill sales. And we have rea­son to hope.  We are the peo­ple who col­lected enough sig­na­tures to put ges­ta­tion crates for preg­nant pigs to ref­er­en­dum – and abol­ished them. We showed that when you bring ani­mal cru­elty to light, a major­ity of the cit­i­zenry may choose to end it.

But you need not go out and gather sig­na­tures, travel to the seat of gov­ern­ment, or even leave your seat to help ani­mals.  Click here to learn about pend­ing leg­is­la­tion in your state and here  for bills at the fed­eral level, where many of the issues with the most impact on ani­mals – along with con­sumers and tax­pay­ers – are con­sid­ered. And then there’s your own back­yard, with issues like exotic ani­mals as out­door pets, dog teth­er­ing, free-roaming cats and TNR, back­yard chick­ens:  many ordi­nances affect­ing ani­mals and you are enacted at the local level, in munic­i­pal and county governments.

Won­der­ing whether your voice mat­ters?  It does. Law­mak­ers know that cit­i­zens who care enough to con­tact them are likely cit­i­zens who vote – so they lis­ten. To learn who your rep­re­sen­ta­tives are, visit www.votesmart.org. You can also get on the e-mail lists of ani­mal wel­fare groups who will alert you to Democracy is a privilegeleg­is­la­tion and ask you to con­tact your rep­re­sen­ta­tives. These alerts often make it easy with sum­maries of the issue at hand and sug­gested ver­biage when you write your law­maker.  Your chance to be an advo­cate is just a few clicks away! As a spokesper­son for Grey2K USA — a grey­hound advo­cacy group — reminded us in Tal­la­has­see, “We have the power to do tremen­dous, amaz­ing things.”  We just have to unleash that power.

Democ­racy is a priv­i­lege. Employ­ing its processes is a choice. Using our sys­tem for the bet­ter­ment billboardredo1of oth­ers is what the found­ing fathers intended.  Defin­ing “oth­ers” as all sen­tient crea­tures means embrac­ing a lifestyle of con­scious com­pas­sion. That lifestyle has my vote.