October is Adopt A Dog month sponsored by the American Humane Association.
According to the Trib, Hillsborough County Animal Services will be changing the hours for the animal surrender portion of their facility. Starting Oct. 1, hours will be from 1-5 p.m. Mondays and Fridays and 2-6 p.m Wednesdays. Previously they were open six days a week in the afternoons. Animals to be surrendered should be vaccinated for rabies and have county tags. Marti Ryan, spokesperson for HCAS encourages owners to seek out other options for their pets, using Animal Services as their last resort. HCAS does their best to adopt out the animals they receive, but they are a kill shelter, and far t oo many animals don't walk back out that door.For more info see HCAS or call (813) 744-5660.
A warning was sent to me by a reader about dogs ingesting cocoa mulch, sold by Target, Home Depot and other garden centers. Ingredients in the cocoa shells used in the mulch can be harmful to dogs if ingested and have resulted in death in at least one case. You can read more about this product and the potential risks at snopes.
Monday, September 29, 2008
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Baghdad Pups
The Tampa Tribune reported this week on St.Petersburg's Marine Lance Cpl. Matt Kirchgraber, who is continuing a trend among soft hearted Americans fighting overseas; he brought home a stray. Kujo, a shepherd mix, was just a few weeks old when Kirchgraber found him in Baghdad, huddled next to a dead litter mate in the snow. The marine nursed the puppy to health and with the help of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals' Baghdad Pups program, Kujo found his way to America. He came over on the same plane as Jasmine and Hope, two cats who were also rescued with help from Baghdad Pups.
The Baghdad Pups program started in September of 2007, when a soldier wrote for help in bringing a border collie named Charlie to the U.S. Charlie had been adopted by the soldier's unit in Iraq and they couldn't imagine leaving him behind in that war ravaged land. It seems the rewards go both ways between soldiers and dogs. The dogs give the soldiers something to look forward to, remind them that there is more to the world than war and help them forget that war for brief periods. I imagine the bond that forms between people and animals in that situation, must be almost unbreakable. I wonder whether these animals will be therapeutic to the soldiers who will spend part of their lives recovering from the trauma of war.
The SPCA requires animals meet certain criteria to be considered for the Baghdad Pups program. Among other factors, the animal must have been found by the military as a puppy or kitten under three months of age, and cared for by one soldier or one unit for at least two months. One person must agree to provide them a permanent home in the states. That home must be a safe environment and the owner agrees to spay or neuter the animal within thirty days of their arrival in the U.S. Animals are also vaccinated and screened for health problems. They are required to be socialized with no signs of aggression towards people.
According to a Washington Times article in April of this year, the SPCA gets several requests a week to help transport animals from Iraq and Afghanistan. By April of last year , they had successfully shipped six animals to new homes in America. They hoped to accomplish the transport of 45 more animals by this summer. The cost per animal is roughly $4000 and requires tedious planning. This seems a unique situation in the history of war. I'm sure these Americans aren't the first soldiers to have bonded with animal's they encounter in war. But they may very well be the first to adopt those animals and bring them home.
The Baghdad Pups program started in September of 2007, when a soldier wrote for help in bringing a border collie named Charlie to the U.S. Charlie had been adopted by the soldier's unit in Iraq and they couldn't imagine leaving him behind in that war ravaged land. It seems the rewards go both ways between soldiers and dogs. The dogs give the soldiers something to look forward to, remind them that there is more to the world than war and help them forget that war for brief periods. I imagine the bond that forms between people and animals in that situation, must be almost unbreakable. I wonder whether these animals will be therapeutic to the soldiers who will spend part of their lives recovering from the trauma of war.
The SPCA requires animals meet certain criteria to be considered for the Baghdad Pups program. Among other factors, the animal must have been found by the military as a puppy or kitten under three months of age, and cared for by one soldier or one unit for at least two months. One person must agree to provide them a permanent home in the states. That home must be a safe environment and the owner agrees to spay or neuter the animal within thirty days of their arrival in the U.S. Animals are also vaccinated and screened for health problems. They are required to be socialized with no signs of aggression towards people.
According to a Washington Times article in April of this year, the SPCA gets several requests a week to help transport animals from Iraq and Afghanistan. By April of last year , they had successfully shipped six animals to new homes in America. They hoped to accomplish the transport of 45 more animals by this summer. The cost per animal is roughly $4000 and requires tedious planning. This seems a unique situation in the history of war. I'm sure these Americans aren't the first soldiers to have bonded with animal's they encounter in war. But they may very well be the first to adopt those animals and bring them home.
Monday, September 22, 2008
All Things Dog - September 22, 2008
The Tampa Tribune Featured the following articles last week:
This man really defies believing. Herminio Soto of Plant City told Animal Services investigators when they came to his home, that he can starve his old dogs if he wants to. By old dogs, he means 8 and 10 year old bull terriers that had the misfortune of landing in this household. He allows them to forage rotten oranges off the ground in the yard occasionally, but otherwise believes that starving to death is a better solution than euthanasia. At their age, he feels those are their two alternatives. Hmmm, I'm thinking Soto, who is 58, is way past his prime and should be foraging off the ground himself. What this man really needs is a psychiatric evaluation. Thank goodness the dogs are now at Hillsborough County Animal Services along with three other bull terriers, two puppies and a one year old. Mr. Soto is in jail on animal cruelty charges. Read more here.
And in yet another glaring example of inhumanity, Michael McKinney of Tampa has been charged with animal cruelty for the second time in two years. In 2006, he pleaded guilty of animal cruelty and was sentenced to time served. In that case, one dog was found dead, hanging from a fence and another suffered severe head, face and neck wounds. This time, a male adult pit bull mix was found with head, neck and face wounds, consistent with dog fighting. One adult female pit mix was found with six pups, one of them dead. She delivered five more puppies at the HCAS shelter. Another female had a prolapsed uterus. Animals were chained to axles driven into the ground, with no shelter, and some had no water. McKinney's comment to investigators when they served him with charges was "I'll walk." Let's hope justice is served and he walks right into a nice long prison term. Come on, Florida prosecutors, remember the Vick's case. Don't condone dogfighting in the state of Florida! The full story is here in the Trib.
And on a positive note, there was a small blurb hyping the Lutz Dogpark, with a Border Collie and some labs hamming it up in a photo.
This man really defies believing. Herminio Soto of Plant City told Animal Services investigators when they came to his home, that he can starve his old dogs if he wants to. By old dogs, he means 8 and 10 year old bull terriers that had the misfortune of landing in this household. He allows them to forage rotten oranges off the ground in the yard occasionally, but otherwise believes that starving to death is a better solution than euthanasia. At their age, he feels those are their two alternatives. Hmmm, I'm thinking Soto, who is 58, is way past his prime and should be foraging off the ground himself. What this man really needs is a psychiatric evaluation. Thank goodness the dogs are now at Hillsborough County Animal Services along with three other bull terriers, two puppies and a one year old. Mr. Soto is in jail on animal cruelty charges. Read more here.
And in yet another glaring example of inhumanity, Michael McKinney of Tampa has been charged with animal cruelty for the second time in two years. In 2006, he pleaded guilty of animal cruelty and was sentenced to time served. In that case, one dog was found dead, hanging from a fence and another suffered severe head, face and neck wounds. This time, a male adult pit bull mix was found with head, neck and face wounds, consistent with dog fighting. One adult female pit mix was found with six pups, one of them dead. She delivered five more puppies at the HCAS shelter. Another female had a prolapsed uterus. Animals were chained to axles driven into the ground, with no shelter, and some had no water. McKinney's comment to investigators when they served him with charges was "I'll walk." Let's hope justice is served and he walks right into a nice long prison term. Come on, Florida prosecutors, remember the Vick's case. Don't condone dogfighting in the state of Florida! The full story is here in the Trib.
And on a positive note, there was a small blurb hyping the Lutz Dogpark, with a Border Collie and some labs hamming it up in a photo.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Canines in Hollywood
There are two movies to watch for that feature our four-legged friends. One is Marley and Me, based on the well- loved book of the same name by John Grogan. It's an autobiographical depiction of the journalist's thirteen years with Marley, a boisterous labrador. The movie stars Owen Wilson and Jennifer Aniston and is due out Christmas Day. You can see more at http://www.marleyandmemovie.com/
The second movie is Hotel For Dogs, based on a children's book by Lois Duncan. It's the tale of two children who are forced to find a place for their dog, when their new guardians refuse to allow a pet. The brother and sister, along with two friends create a home for their dog and eight other strays in an abandoned hotel. The movie stars Emma Roberts and JakeAustin as the siblings, and a supporting cast that includes Lisa Kudrow, Don Cheadle and Kevin Dillon. Release is set for January 16. You can see a trailer at www.hotelfordogsmovie.com.
The second movie is Hotel For Dogs, based on a children's book by Lois Duncan. It's the tale of two children who are forced to find a place for their dog, when their new guardians refuse to allow a pet. The brother and sister, along with two friends create a home for their dog and eight other strays in an abandoned hotel. The movie stars Emma Roberts and JakeAustin as the siblings, and a supporting cast that includes Lisa Kudrow, Don Cheadle and Kevin Dillon. Release is set for January 16. You can see a trailer at www.hotelfordogsmovie.com.
Monday, September 15, 2008
Barks and Whines From Dame Dog
I'm new to blogging, but learning quickly that the foxes of the blogworld are very sly indeed. Previously, I have published responses that seemed sincere, but in reality were product promotions. Recently, I received a response that sent up a red flag, but I couldn't track it because it was posted anonymously. I have never wanted this blog to be littered by commercials. I set up the blog so that reader's responses must be approved by me before they are published. That way I could omit the ones I felt were ads. So, I have two choices. I can eliminate the feature that allows people to post anonymously, or I can stop posting responses that have any kind of link in them. The first choice would hinder readers who want to publish, but are shy about using a name. So, I'm going with the second. If you have a link attached to your response, it won't be published here. If there's a non profit link that you want the readers to know about, email me and tell me about it.
I apologize for this week's slim pickings. I'm in charge of a family reunion which is looming large on the near horizon. That will be over in mid October, and hopefully, life will settle down around here. But my lack of time to dedicate to the blog for the next couple weeks, brings up an issue. When, I started this blog, I had no idea the amount of time I would end up devoting to it. Nor how it would get under my skin. Sometimes, I wish I had nothing else on my schedule, so that I could make it a more worthwhile site. There are so many groups out there that deserve to be talked about; so many inspiring stories about rescue work and dogs who have survived despite their terrible fates. Unfortunately, instead of finding more time in my schedule for the blog, I'm facing more demands on my time. I don't want the blog to become stagnate. So, I'm tossing an idea out to readers. I'd like to find feature writers to contribute to this site. Articles can range from personal experience to current events to topics and research, but all should be pertinent to the people who rescue Florida dogs. If you are interested in participating in this project, email me and let me know what type of stories you'd like to do. I'll let readers know by the end of the year, about the results of this effort.
I apologize for this week's slim pickings. I'm in charge of a family reunion which is looming large on the near horizon. That will be over in mid October, and hopefully, life will settle down around here. But my lack of time to dedicate to the blog for the next couple weeks, brings up an issue. When, I started this blog, I had no idea the amount of time I would end up devoting to it. Nor how it would get under my skin. Sometimes, I wish I had nothing else on my schedule, so that I could make it a more worthwhile site. There are so many groups out there that deserve to be talked about; so many inspiring stories about rescue work and dogs who have survived despite their terrible fates. Unfortunately, instead of finding more time in my schedule for the blog, I'm facing more demands on my time. I don't want the blog to become stagnate. So, I'm tossing an idea out to readers. I'd like to find feature writers to contribute to this site. Articles can range from personal experience to current events to topics and research, but all should be pertinent to the people who rescue Florida dogs. If you are interested in participating in this project, email me and let me know what type of stories you'd like to do. I'll let readers know by the end of the year, about the results of this effort.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
A Local Hero To Animals
Bob Reina is the man who recently helped save Bindi, the stray dog who lost a leg to a gator and wandered alone for days. Reina adopted Bindi after meeting her and being won over by her appreciation. But, according to Tampa Tribune and The St.Pete Times, Bindi's new owner didn't stop there. He asked what he could give that would make a difference at Hillsborough Animal Services. The answer was beds, and Reina delivered 325 Kuranda beds to the shelter at the cost of $18,000, so that dogs no longer have to lay on hard concrete floors.
Now, Mr. Reina is on a campaign to eliminate the need for euthanasia at HCAS. He plans to use the video marketing company that he works for, Talk Fusion, to increase donations and sign up volunteers. A website will be created, where users can easily sign up to make donations or volunteer. Care Crew, a non profit organization, will be helping HCAS with marketing. Reina would also like to create a group of veterinarians who would go into communities offering low cost spay/neuter services. Imagine what could be done if more people were this enthusiastic and commited to a cause like ending the need for euthanasia.
Now, Mr. Reina is on a campaign to eliminate the need for euthanasia at HCAS. He plans to use the video marketing company that he works for, Talk Fusion, to increase donations and sign up volunteers. A website will be created, where users can easily sign up to make donations or volunteer. Care Crew, a non profit organization, will be helping HCAS with marketing. Reina would also like to create a group of veterinarians who would go into communities offering low cost spay/neuter services. Imagine what could be done if more people were this enthusiastic and commited to a cause like ending the need for euthanasia.
Monday, September 8, 2008
Diary Of A Dog Woman by Rohana Chomick
I am honored this week to be the first to publish this fictional story by Tampa writer, Rohana Chomick, who has many years of experience rescuing stray cats and dogs.
Day 1: She scared the hell out of me. Out of the corner of my eye I glimpsed a dark mass roaring out from under a car parked on the street, heading for the open area under a little green bungalow. All I could tell was that it was some sort of animal.
Day 2: It was hard to tell what she was. So fast, like a greyhound chasing a terrified rabbit, down the street she went, vanishing into the burgeoning uncut bushes in front of a sagging house. I only wanted to give her food, but she followed “The X-Files” axiom – trust no one. What she didn’t know is that I’m a patient and persistent person, and I have all the time in the world since I’m unemployed.
Day 5: Haven’t seen her for days. I call her a “she” because…well, just because. Today as I round a street corner with my plastic baggie of dry dog food (stolen from my own dog) and a red throwaway plastic bowl, I see something hovering behind a pile of broken cement. I call, here, puppy, puppy. Not that I can really tell if it’s her, or if it’s her, that she’s a dog. Could be a large raggedy cat. All I can see is torn ears. Then, suddenly with no warning, it blasts out of its hiding place and races into the trash-strewn, overgrown alley. It’s her, and she’s some sort of small dog.
Day 7: For two days I scout around the pile of cement and the alley where I last saw her, but she’s nowhere in that vicinity, at least not that my human eyes can see. I call her silently, hoping she can hear my spirit call to hers. Nothing. For the second time, I turn to go but then I hear a slight rustle in the wild azalea to my right. I don’t turn to look; I slowly put the red plastic bowl on the weeds in front of me and dump the dog food into it. I trek back quietly, step by slow step, until I’m on the street. I notice a small nose poke out of the azalea, sniffing the gift a couple of feet away. I don’t move; a stone statue has nothing on me. The nose becomes a dark-colored muzzle, and then eyes and forehead. Even from where I stand I can see the blood and the gnats flying around her face. Inside I am crying, but in the real world I am a tree, not moving, barely breathing, hoping for invisibility. Her eyes gobble the food but she quickly disappears back into the safety of the azalea. I have been spotted or sniffed. I walk away, hoping she’ll eat the food before it rains or raccoons scarf it up.
Day 8: The bowl is empty, but whether she has eaten it is another story. I pour more food into the bowl and walk away. There’s an aging oak tree across the street and I hide behind it. Today I made sure not to lather on any lotion or cologne, but I know a dog can still smell my human aroma. I’m guessing that she’s sickly so maybe she can’t sniff me out across the street, concealed behind a thick tree trunk. I stand there for 30 minutes, peeking out every few minutes, but no one comes to eat the food. She may have moved on, or perhaps she has died. Tears come readily to my eyes, but I’m not ready to give up yet.
Day 9: The bowl is empty again. I hope that she is the one who has eaten it. I call her again. Puppy, Puppy, come here. Of course she doesn’t come. I decide to give her a name. Everyone needs a name. It’s true that once upon a time she did have a name, but that name and life are long gone. I will give her a name to honor her new life, even though it’s a desolate existence right now. I will give her a name that promises an amazing future. I sit on the pile of cement and think. Of course, I’m not even sure if she’s a she, or if she’s still alive, but stuff like that has never stopped me from going forward. I stand up and walk to the alley. I say out loud, I christen you Wyoming. Wild. Free. Beautiful. My only answer is the distant cry of a police siren.
Day 10: The woman who lives in the house by Wyoming’s alley is watering a frog bowl of wilting impatiens when I come by today. I ask her if she’s seen a stray dog. She stares at me like she’s trying to figure out what I am and then says, that thing your dog? Have you seen her today, I say. Yeah, I called the dog catcher people, but I ain’t seen them yet. No, I scream. She backs away from me, dropping her water pitcher, and hastens into her house, slamming the wood screen door. No, no, no, I yell. I have to find Wyoming. I have to rescue her. I know Animal Services will most likely euthanize her the minute they get their hands on her because she’s in poor health. Wyoming, I call. Wyoming. The woman gawks at me over a half-curtained window and then backs into the gloom of her house when she sees me looking right at her. I search everywhere but I can’t find Wyoming. I search for hours. I see the Animal Services truck cruising the streets but it leaves after 30 minutes. Wyoming has hidden herself like a pro. From all of us.
Day 11: In all the fracas yesterday, I forgot to leave food during the day but I filled the bowl last night around 9:00 pm. Today the bowl is empty. I pour more food in the bowl and add a bit of cooked chicken to spice up the aroma. Then I quickly walk to my hiding place behind the oak tree. The woman who called Animal Services is not home today; at least her car is gone, so maybe Wyoming will show up to eat the food. After 15 minutes, when I peer around tree, I spot a lithe gray cat eating the chicken. I leap out and yell, get away from that food. Startled, the cat jumps up, drops the piece of chicken it was chewing, and dashes down the alley, dodging beer cans, broken furniture, and dangling branches, and scoots under a wood privacy fence. I go back into hiding. I wait for an hour but no cat and no Wyoming. I probably scared away every animal within a block. And then it begins to rain, light at first, then an all-out assault. I walk home, defeated once again.
Day 14: The food has vanished for days but no sightings of Wyoming. She’s probably dead, either from what ailed her, starvation, another dog, or Animal Services. For two weeks my life has been focused on rescuing this poor little dog and now it seems as if hope has died along with Wyoming. I fill the food bowl out of habit, and then I walk over to the pile of cement and begin to cry. A crow squawks overhead as it lands on a tree branch; it’s soon joined by a couple of other crows and they begin a raucous conversation. I listen as the tears travel down my face. Life just isn’t fair. I don’t know how or why Wyoming wound up in the streets, alone, sick, hungry. I tried to help her, but all my efforts were not enough. I just want to scream to God, why, why, why. I sense one of the crows leaving its perch and flying to the alley floor. I hear a yip. I quickly get up from the pile of cement and peek around the wood fence. There’s Wyoming, defending her food against the intruder crow. Now I can see all of her. Definitely a female. Probably a terrier mix. I notice bloody sores, patches of fur missing, matted fur, a white scar trailing down her left hind leg, ragged ears, and a swollen right foot. But she’s alive! I back away so she doesn’t see me and flee. It’s time for a serious rescue.
Day 20: A happy ending. Just the way I like it. Here’s how it went: four days ago I caught Wyoming by positioning her red plastic food bowl, filled with cooked chicken and raw beef, in a humane trap in the alley. It took two days of trying and I stayed behind that oak tree all day, each day, watching, waiting. Occasionally a cat would drift by, sniffing the food and the trap. One almost took the bait but I scared it away by waving my arm from behind the tree. The poor cat probably lost one of its lives thinking the tree had come to life.
I didn’t see Wyoming the first day. That night the trap caught a raccoon who was not pleased to be jailed. I released it and watched it zip down the alley like an Olympic athlete. Then I refilled the bowl with the same food as yesterday. After about an hour or so, the good food aroma beckoned Wyoming from her hiding place under an overturned sofa. She walked around and around the trap, trying to figure out how to get the food without going into the trap. She sat at the entrance for awhile. I could see saliva dripping from her mouth. Then she stood up and rushed into the trap, in an effort no doubt to grab the food and run. It didn’t work. The trap door came down and she was caught. She howled in anger and fear. I ran to her, talking to her, calling her by name. She shrank against the side of the trap, growling. I picked up the trap with a thick towel in case of an attack and laboriously carried her home (she may have been small and thin, but she and the trap were heavy).
I placed the trap on my enclosed porch and sat in a chair near her, talking to her, telling her that everything was going to be alright. She glared at me, but I saw her tail slightly flick back and forth.
In the four days since I caught Wyoming she has changed from a wild, frightened dog into a friendly, somewhat skittish pal to me and my old Malamute, Juneau, who has taken quite a liking to her. I figure at one point in her life Wyoming was well-loved and taken care of by someone who had the resources to do so. I don’t know what happened to change her circumstances, but once she came to understand that I was going to feed her, take care of her (which included a visit to the vet), and love her, she calmed down and began to let go of her reservations. It always amazes me how fast and willing children, dogs, and cats are to jettison their former circumstances and reach out for the love offered to them by a caring individual. Perhaps it’s an innate trust, something that I should probably learn to cultivate when it comes to humans.
Day 130: I’ve been so busy these past few months. Wyoming has healed beautifully. She now weighs about 25 pounds and her fur is a shiny salt and pepper color. Her left hind leg still bears the white scar and her ears are still torn, but nowadays she prances like a loved dog. She has a happy face and sleeps well, although she sometimes has flashback episodes that leave her inconsolable for a little while. It’s always Juneau who retrieves her from the land of her painful memories. And with her youthful enthusiasm (the vet guesses her to be about 3 years old), she has brought new life into my 10-year-old Juneau. The other day I saw him actually running and chasing Wyoming and her Cocker Spaniel friend in a dog park we like to visit.
It’s almost Christmas, my favorite time of year. There’s a lot to reflect upon and a lot to do, but what I do know for sure is that this Christmas there will be three joyful family members in my holiday photo – me, Juneau, and Wyoming. Ain’t life grand….
Day 1: She scared the hell out of me. Out of the corner of my eye I glimpsed a dark mass roaring out from under a car parked on the street, heading for the open area under a little green bungalow. All I could tell was that it was some sort of animal.
Day 2: It was hard to tell what she was. So fast, like a greyhound chasing a terrified rabbit, down the street she went, vanishing into the burgeoning uncut bushes in front of a sagging house. I only wanted to give her food, but she followed “The X-Files” axiom – trust no one. What she didn’t know is that I’m a patient and persistent person, and I have all the time in the world since I’m unemployed.
Day 5: Haven’t seen her for days. I call her a “she” because…well, just because. Today as I round a street corner with my plastic baggie of dry dog food (stolen from my own dog) and a red throwaway plastic bowl, I see something hovering behind a pile of broken cement. I call, here, puppy, puppy. Not that I can really tell if it’s her, or if it’s her, that she’s a dog. Could be a large raggedy cat. All I can see is torn ears. Then, suddenly with no warning, it blasts out of its hiding place and races into the trash-strewn, overgrown alley. It’s her, and she’s some sort of small dog.
Day 7: For two days I scout around the pile of cement and the alley where I last saw her, but she’s nowhere in that vicinity, at least not that my human eyes can see. I call her silently, hoping she can hear my spirit call to hers. Nothing. For the second time, I turn to go but then I hear a slight rustle in the wild azalea to my right. I don’t turn to look; I slowly put the red plastic bowl on the weeds in front of me and dump the dog food into it. I trek back quietly, step by slow step, until I’m on the street. I notice a small nose poke out of the azalea, sniffing the gift a couple of feet away. I don’t move; a stone statue has nothing on me. The nose becomes a dark-colored muzzle, and then eyes and forehead. Even from where I stand I can see the blood and the gnats flying around her face. Inside I am crying, but in the real world I am a tree, not moving, barely breathing, hoping for invisibility. Her eyes gobble the food but she quickly disappears back into the safety of the azalea. I have been spotted or sniffed. I walk away, hoping she’ll eat the food before it rains or raccoons scarf it up.
Day 8: The bowl is empty, but whether she has eaten it is another story. I pour more food into the bowl and walk away. There’s an aging oak tree across the street and I hide behind it. Today I made sure not to lather on any lotion or cologne, but I know a dog can still smell my human aroma. I’m guessing that she’s sickly so maybe she can’t sniff me out across the street, concealed behind a thick tree trunk. I stand there for 30 minutes, peeking out every few minutes, but no one comes to eat the food. She may have moved on, or perhaps she has died. Tears come readily to my eyes, but I’m not ready to give up yet.
Day 9: The bowl is empty again. I hope that she is the one who has eaten it. I call her again. Puppy, Puppy, come here. Of course she doesn’t come. I decide to give her a name. Everyone needs a name. It’s true that once upon a time she did have a name, but that name and life are long gone. I will give her a name to honor her new life, even though it’s a desolate existence right now. I will give her a name that promises an amazing future. I sit on the pile of cement and think. Of course, I’m not even sure if she’s a she, or if she’s still alive, but stuff like that has never stopped me from going forward. I stand up and walk to the alley. I say out loud, I christen you Wyoming. Wild. Free. Beautiful. My only answer is the distant cry of a police siren.
Day 10: The woman who lives in the house by Wyoming’s alley is watering a frog bowl of wilting impatiens when I come by today. I ask her if she’s seen a stray dog. She stares at me like she’s trying to figure out what I am and then says, that thing your dog? Have you seen her today, I say. Yeah, I called the dog catcher people, but I ain’t seen them yet. No, I scream. She backs away from me, dropping her water pitcher, and hastens into her house, slamming the wood screen door. No, no, no, I yell. I have to find Wyoming. I have to rescue her. I know Animal Services will most likely euthanize her the minute they get their hands on her because she’s in poor health. Wyoming, I call. Wyoming. The woman gawks at me over a half-curtained window and then backs into the gloom of her house when she sees me looking right at her. I search everywhere but I can’t find Wyoming. I search for hours. I see the Animal Services truck cruising the streets but it leaves after 30 minutes. Wyoming has hidden herself like a pro. From all of us.
Day 11: In all the fracas yesterday, I forgot to leave food during the day but I filled the bowl last night around 9:00 pm. Today the bowl is empty. I pour more food in the bowl and add a bit of cooked chicken to spice up the aroma. Then I quickly walk to my hiding place behind the oak tree. The woman who called Animal Services is not home today; at least her car is gone, so maybe Wyoming will show up to eat the food. After 15 minutes, when I peer around tree, I spot a lithe gray cat eating the chicken. I leap out and yell, get away from that food. Startled, the cat jumps up, drops the piece of chicken it was chewing, and dashes down the alley, dodging beer cans, broken furniture, and dangling branches, and scoots under a wood privacy fence. I go back into hiding. I wait for an hour but no cat and no Wyoming. I probably scared away every animal within a block. And then it begins to rain, light at first, then an all-out assault. I walk home, defeated once again.
Day 14: The food has vanished for days but no sightings of Wyoming. She’s probably dead, either from what ailed her, starvation, another dog, or Animal Services. For two weeks my life has been focused on rescuing this poor little dog and now it seems as if hope has died along with Wyoming. I fill the food bowl out of habit, and then I walk over to the pile of cement and begin to cry. A crow squawks overhead as it lands on a tree branch; it’s soon joined by a couple of other crows and they begin a raucous conversation. I listen as the tears travel down my face. Life just isn’t fair. I don’t know how or why Wyoming wound up in the streets, alone, sick, hungry. I tried to help her, but all my efforts were not enough. I just want to scream to God, why, why, why. I sense one of the crows leaving its perch and flying to the alley floor. I hear a yip. I quickly get up from the pile of cement and peek around the wood fence. There’s Wyoming, defending her food against the intruder crow. Now I can see all of her. Definitely a female. Probably a terrier mix. I notice bloody sores, patches of fur missing, matted fur, a white scar trailing down her left hind leg, ragged ears, and a swollen right foot. But she’s alive! I back away so she doesn’t see me and flee. It’s time for a serious rescue.
Day 20: A happy ending. Just the way I like it. Here’s how it went: four days ago I caught Wyoming by positioning her red plastic food bowl, filled with cooked chicken and raw beef, in a humane trap in the alley. It took two days of trying and I stayed behind that oak tree all day, each day, watching, waiting. Occasionally a cat would drift by, sniffing the food and the trap. One almost took the bait but I scared it away by waving my arm from behind the tree. The poor cat probably lost one of its lives thinking the tree had come to life.
I didn’t see Wyoming the first day. That night the trap caught a raccoon who was not pleased to be jailed. I released it and watched it zip down the alley like an Olympic athlete. Then I refilled the bowl with the same food as yesterday. After about an hour or so, the good food aroma beckoned Wyoming from her hiding place under an overturned sofa. She walked around and around the trap, trying to figure out how to get the food without going into the trap. She sat at the entrance for awhile. I could see saliva dripping from her mouth. Then she stood up and rushed into the trap, in an effort no doubt to grab the food and run. It didn’t work. The trap door came down and she was caught. She howled in anger and fear. I ran to her, talking to her, calling her by name. She shrank against the side of the trap, growling. I picked up the trap with a thick towel in case of an attack and laboriously carried her home (she may have been small and thin, but she and the trap were heavy).
I placed the trap on my enclosed porch and sat in a chair near her, talking to her, telling her that everything was going to be alright. She glared at me, but I saw her tail slightly flick back and forth.
In the four days since I caught Wyoming she has changed from a wild, frightened dog into a friendly, somewhat skittish pal to me and my old Malamute, Juneau, who has taken quite a liking to her. I figure at one point in her life Wyoming was well-loved and taken care of by someone who had the resources to do so. I don’t know what happened to change her circumstances, but once she came to understand that I was going to feed her, take care of her (which included a visit to the vet), and love her, she calmed down and began to let go of her reservations. It always amazes me how fast and willing children, dogs, and cats are to jettison their former circumstances and reach out for the love offered to them by a caring individual. Perhaps it’s an innate trust, something that I should probably learn to cultivate when it comes to humans.
Day 130: I’ve been so busy these past few months. Wyoming has healed beautifully. She now weighs about 25 pounds and her fur is a shiny salt and pepper color. Her left hind leg still bears the white scar and her ears are still torn, but nowadays she prances like a loved dog. She has a happy face and sleeps well, although she sometimes has flashback episodes that leave her inconsolable for a little while. It’s always Juneau who retrieves her from the land of her painful memories. And with her youthful enthusiasm (the vet guesses her to be about 3 years old), she has brought new life into my 10-year-old Juneau. The other day I saw him actually running and chasing Wyoming and her Cocker Spaniel friend in a dog park we like to visit.
It’s almost Christmas, my favorite time of year. There’s a lot to reflect upon and a lot to do, but what I do know for sure is that this Christmas there will be three joyful family members in my holiday photo – me, Juneau, and Wyoming. Ain’t life grand….
All Things Dog - September 8, 2008
During the month of September, the Animal Coalition of Tampa is offering to neuter male dogs for $55, and cats for $20. You must present the coupon on their website to benefit from this offer.The ACT clinic is at 1719 W. Lemon St. For more information, call 9813) 250-3900 or go to their website.
Duncan Strauss, the host of WMNF radio's Talking Animal's show, is seeking donations of premium's for the station's upcoming fundraising drive, which will take place the first week in October. Premium's can be services, as well as goods. If you have something you think a listener would be happy to donate for, contact Duncan.
In the Trib's Critter Calender last week, it was reported that Pinellas Co. Animal Services is seeking volunteers who can transport the pets of special needs residents who evacuate during emergencies. For more info, call Greg Andrews, (727)582-2623.
Duncan Strauss, the host of WMNF radio's Talking Animal's show, is seeking donations of premium's for the station's upcoming fundraising drive, which will take place the first week in October. Premium's can be services, as well as goods. If you have something you think a listener would be happy to donate for, contact Duncan.
In the Trib's Critter Calender last week, it was reported that Pinellas Co. Animal Services is seeking volunteers who can transport the pets of special needs residents who evacuate during emergencies. For more info, call Greg Andrews, (727)582-2623.
Friday, September 5, 2008
Dogtown on National Geographic
This info came from blog reader, Jackie:
FYI - tonight (Friday) at 9 PM on the National Geographic channel, the "Dogtown" series will start up again for a four-week stint. This show is filmed at the Best Friends Animal Sanctuary in Utah, and tonight's show will be about the "Vicktory Dogs" - the 22 pitbulls (well, they feature four specific pitties) that came to them from the Michael Vick case.
FYI - tonight (Friday) at 9 PM on the National Geographic channel, the "Dogtown" series will start up again for a four-week stint. This show is filmed at the Best Friends Animal Sanctuary in Utah, and tonight's show will be about the "Vicktory Dogs" - the 22 pitbulls (well, they feature four specific pitties) that came to them from the Michael Vick case.
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Dog Park Picks
"So, what's this dogpark place about? It might be wise to stick close to Mom 'til I figure it out."
"What are all those dogs running after? I don't see anything to get excited about. No squirrels. No cats. Huh, beats me."
" I think I'll lay down here and take a nap. Watching all those dogs tuckered me out."
Monday, September 1, 2008
Pup In Need Of TLC
*Update: Darla has found a foster home! Thank you, whoever you are.
This request came from a volunteer at
Pasco County Animal Services. This puppy was brought in over the weekend. She lived on a farm and tangled with a member of the livestock community, resulting in a broken leg. Her owners were unable to get her the help that she needed, so they surrendered her to the shelter. She's a 12 week old shepherd mix dubbed Darla, and in need of a nice, quiet foster home for the next two months, while she recuperates. Of course, should her warm licks of appreciation and grateful tail wags persuade you to call her a permanent family member, that would be okay, too. PCAS will take care of her veterinary needs while she is being fostered. She will need to be brought into the shelter once a week for a check up. If you have a place for Darla, email Dr. Spencer or call (813)929-1212 or (813)929-1217 and ask to speak to veterinary staff.
All Things Dog - September 1, 2008
A Tampa man flew to Canada last month to help his distraught daughter search for her lost dog. Sugar, a Maltese/Poodle mix had escaped from a yard and was missing seven days. Her journey home involved being hit by a car, and saved by a kind bystander who performed mouth to mouth resuscitation on the dog after it stopped breathing. You can read the rest of this story at the Durham Region News site. The owner's father, Gene Costain, wrote a lovely column about this experience, which was featured in the Trib's commentary section Monday, but I haven't been able to find it online.
With Gustav barreling towards Louisiana, I wondered how that state had prepared for the evacuation of pets during disasters. I looked at their Humane Society and SPCA websites for information and wasn't disappointed. Shelters will be set up throughout the state with animal shelters being adjacent to human housing. Buses began evacuating the elderly and sick, as well as those without transportation over the weekend. Animals in carriers were accepted on the buses. The state's animal shelters were in full swing, with outside assistance called in and on the way. My thoughts and prayers are with those folks.
Here in Tampa, the Tampa Tribune reports that Cinder and Powder, two Labrador Retrievers assigned to Tampa Fire Rescue handlers who do Fire Rescue work, are also on call with FEMA. They have trained several days a week in search and rescue work for over two years with their handlers, Lt.'s Brian Smithey and Roger Picard. Picard and Smithey are watching Hurricane Gustav and Tropical Storm Hanna, and are ready to leave as soon as the call comes in that their help is needed.
On tbo.com last week, it was reported that Charlotte Mathews-Nelson, a Dover woman was arrested and charged with animal cruelty, after ten skeletal like dogs were found living in rusty vehicles on her property. Among the dogs was a lab mix puppy, a pit bull and several terriers, including one who was nursing three puppies. She told officers that she did not have money to feed the animals. From the woman's picture, she looks like someone who is suffering herself. Animals who belong to people with too many problems of their own, are likely to suffer even more than their owners.
With Gustav barreling towards Louisiana, I wondered how that state had prepared for the evacuation of pets during disasters. I looked at their Humane Society and SPCA websites for information and wasn't disappointed. Shelters will be set up throughout the state with animal shelters being adjacent to human housing. Buses began evacuating the elderly and sick, as well as those without transportation over the weekend. Animals in carriers were accepted on the buses. The state's animal shelters were in full swing, with outside assistance called in and on the way. My thoughts and prayers are with those folks.
Here in Tampa, the Tampa Tribune reports that Cinder and Powder, two Labrador Retrievers assigned to Tampa Fire Rescue handlers who do Fire Rescue work, are also on call with FEMA. They have trained several days a week in search and rescue work for over two years with their handlers, Lt.'s Brian Smithey and Roger Picard. Picard and Smithey are watching Hurricane Gustav and Tropical Storm Hanna, and are ready to leave as soon as the call comes in that their help is needed.
On tbo.com last week, it was reported that Charlotte Mathews-Nelson, a Dover woman was arrested and charged with animal cruelty, after ten skeletal like dogs were found living in rusty vehicles on her property. Among the dogs was a lab mix puppy, a pit bull and several terriers, including one who was nursing three puppies. She told officers that she did not have money to feed the animals. From the woman's picture, she looks like someone who is suffering herself. Animals who belong to people with too many problems of their own, are likely to suffer even more than their owners.
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