First World Issues - Animal Rescue

In case you're a first time reader, one of my passions (aside from documenting KIC's antics) is helping find homeless animals "forever homes." There can be something so soul gratifying to be able to take an animal whose chances were otherwise VERY slim and work hard to finding a home that is compatible with them and their needs. When the "magic of the universe" happens, it's pretty incredible to witness. And for my part, I've met some pretty incredible people who I am extremely blessed to call "friend" as a result of volunteering.

Animal rescue is not easy work by any stretch of the imagination. And when you become a foster parent to an animal, the stakes get a bit higher, emotionally, physically and financially. Our expenses as fosters (not including most medical because the rescue covers that) are well above $6000 each year. That doesn't include the time spent on transportation, or adoption events or crazy random situations (cat with two broken hips and a broken pelvis sound familiar?). That doesn't include the damage done to our house, or the strained neighbor relations or even the strained family/friend relations because they think I'm crazy (yes, I'm putting the blame where it belongs). Over and over and over again, we did it because on every level it was rewarding.

Recently, I've gotten hammered from several different directions that makes me realize it's gotten to be more stressful than joyful. I still LOVE the animals I have in my house (including Havoc and Mayhem) and still wish for them to find good homes, but the stress is starting to outweigh the good. People with good intentions give out my name in number in the hopes that I can help their friend/neighbor/cousin/random stranger place an unwanted animal, thinking that just because they don't want their 9 year old German Shepherd mix who gets annoyed because they won't control their 2 year old child and now she's snapped at the kid, SOMEONE SURELY wants an otherwise "perfect" dog. Or someone knows someone who has to find a home for a dog IMMEDIATELY. Only after several hours of frantic work, does it come to light that the situation isn't dire and that the animal truly DOESN'T need to be rehomed after all. Worst of all is the discrimination. "Hounds don't make good pets because they are bred to hunt." "Does that dog have pit bull in it? I can't have a pit bull, or anything resembling a pit bull, because I heard of this one time that a pit ate all of a baby's fingers." "I don't want a girl dog because I don't want to feel her teats." "I don't find orange tabbies attractive" as the tabby in question turns herself INSIDE OUT showing why she'd be a perfect fit. "Black cats bring bad luck." Sadly, I've witnessed all those statements. I could provide the statistics of all of the dog breeds I've seen get homed, but I'm sure it would fall on deaf ears.

While my "I may not be able to save everyone, but I can make a difference to this one" attitude wanes, it leaves me wondering what the future holds for me. The need to match homeless animals with families hasn't diminished because people don't spay and neuter pets and shelters are full all over the nation. And the truth is, I just don't have the time to devote to the animals now that I tackle the challenges of balancing a 12 hour work day, a much more active home life and figuring out what the plans are for our little family. But I do know that without a support system, internal and external, the Shoup Animal House doors are destined to close for business - permanently. While some may rejoice at this news, I am a conflict of relief and sadness. Overall, the entire experience has been so extremely rewarding on so many levels, it will be hard to walk away.

Giving Thanks for Shelter Pets

Today, on almost the last day of November, I am participating in the Shelter Pet Project and giving thanks for all of the animals that have come into our lives.  I have always said I wanted to have 500 cats and dogs, not ever fully realizing how many pets I'd have to own at the same time in order to accomplish that goal.  Fostering helps me to reach that goal, for sure. 

Without shelters, my family and I would have been deprived of this:

Sleepy Hound Brigade

And we certainly never would have known the joy of this:



A cloud of cats, all of whom have found homes

And my daughter would have never gotten to experience a love like this:

A dog and his girl

I wouldn't know some of the incredible people I have had the privilege to meet and there would be a lot fewer people who have found their forever pet.  As many car magnets and bumper stickers say "Who saved who?"  So, to all the shelter pets I have known:  Thank you for coming into my life, thank you for bringing me new people to meet and thank you for the love and companionship you've given me through the years.  For every 10 pounds of poop, we get 30 lbs in blessings and that's not something we could ever put a price on.

The Ballad of a Rescue Dog

It's no secret that much of my life centers around rescue dogs.  I haven't been as active with attending events or evangelizing as much as I used to, but with five rescue dogs in the house, I can be absent from the rescue group, but the rescue group is never far from me.  I love every single one of them for different reasons, though I will be happy when a certain gruesome twosome find their forever homes...for many reasons.

Rescue is HARD work.  You are pulling an animal from the unhappy and guiding them towards the unknown.  Often, the animal has only known the depths of despair, has an intense distrust of humans or whose spirit is so broken it's all you can do not to sit on the floor sobbing.  One of my current fosters, Chief (Havoc for those who may know the code) is all three of those things locked into a neat little package. 
And by neat, I mean not at all.  Here is his story.

In a sort of bizarre "small world" symbiosis, someone I have known for many years was alerted to several dogs in various stages of malnutrition and neglect.  She immediately reported the story to local authorities who investigated and found 46 hounds in rough rough shape.

If that image turns your stomach, and it should, then you should know there was more than meets the eye with this case.  Ultimately, the owner was a convicted felon who also had a weapon.  He agreed to plead guilty to the weapons charge so that the dogs would be relinquished and available for rehoming immediately.  Generally, it takes months to years to take animal cruelty cases to trial (see Michael Vick), so the animals languish in shelters until the case is brought to trial.

Chief was one of those dogs.  He was all of 8 months when he was rescued, so he hadn't witnessed as much of the atrocity as some of the others had.  I can't provide you statistics on how many were rehabilitated and adopted out, but I can tell you that when I got Chief and two other dogs two months later, they were still thin.  Chief, and the two females, were adopted out rather quickly.  Each owner knew the story and resolved to give their respective dog the lives they deserved.  Through a series of unfortunate incidents, Chief was returned to the rescue.  That was a year ago and we still have him. 

Contentious relationship with neighbors aside, we also get the benefit of some interesting behaviors/interactions with Chief that in many ways are a direct result of where he came from. 

• Food Hoarding:  Chief is fed like clockwork, twice a day.  He's also given treats a couple of times a day.  This does not matter to Chief.  In his mind, he doesn't know where his next meal is coming from.  If he is fed in his crate, he deliberately, tips his bowl over and hides his food.  Every so often, I am forced to clean the food out of his crate.  When this occurs, it sends him into a tailspin.  If, when I sweep, food is collected, he will obsessively hunt down the food in what's been swept up and eat it, as I sweep it.  If there is food on a counter, he will pace and whine until the food is put away.  This is the case if it's human food or dog food, but especially dog food.  Simply put, his brain can't accept that he WILL be fed again, so it's critical to his survival that he make provisions for himself.
• Anxiety:  Chief's anxious behavior manifests itself in many interesting ways.  If any member of the dog pack is separated from the rest, Chief goes into a tailspin.  He doesn't know what it means, but he knows that the dynamics have changed and he cannot adjust.  In his former life, when a pack member was separated, it meant unspeakable things, so that could be why that makes him anxious.  Many nights, without provocation, he'll start pacing and whining.  No amount of stimulation or redirection will get him to stop.  He once had an anxiety/panic attack so intense (as a result of introducing two strangers to the house), it lasted for two and a half hours.  If a person had a panic attack that lasted for two hours, they would be hospitalized. 
• Medications:   Chief is on medications for his thyroid and to help him maintain an even keel.  The only dog in the house who is on more medications is our diabetic dog who gets insulin twice a day and assistance with her arthritis.  His anti-anxiety medication is a ramp up medication that requires additional bloodwork to ensure none of his liver functions are being affected.  Think being uninsured is expensive for humans?  It's just as expensive for dogs and he'll be on these meds, and require blood tests, for the rest of his life. 
• Temperament:  Chief's anxiety prevents him from ever being restful or really truly happy.  If he's not pacing and whining, then he's goading one of the other dogs to play with him.  While it's true that he could be bored, he also doesn't know when to stop pestering, which gets him into trouble with the other dogs.  He's received physical correction from the other dogs after several hours of pestering, and he does not stop.  He seems to have no off switch.  He loves his humans, but has a hard time accepting the change that outsiders bring.  It wouldn't be a stretch to say that he simply cannot accept the change outsiders bring.

Chief is the first dog that has brought me challenges that I did not feel I could overcome.  For Chief, neither time, nor love, nor money, nor patience, nor medication (at this point) can bring him to a restful state.  Yet, despite all this, and maybe because of his origin, I can't help but feel that he's worth it.  That he's worth being redeemed.  Is the perfect owner out there for Chief?  Maybe.  Will he be with us for a long time?  Most assuredly.  But having him around has made me appreciate my faults, my weakness and see my failures as learning experiences.  And for that, I wouldn't trade my experience with him for anything in the world...except maybe a permanent home where he can be happy, once and for all.

One of the many faces of redemption

I firmly believe there are many faces of redemption. This redemption story is about the redemption of a good ol' houndog who deserved so much more than he had already experienced in life. I promise not to get theological, but I really want to share this story to give people a glimpse of just how rewarding animal rescue can be. Too often we hear about the hoarder who had too many animals and the poor condition they were in, or the dog who was abandoned at the shelter only to be rescued in the nick of time. What happens AFTER they are rescued? If you're an inquiring mind and want to know, keep reading. If not, I promise the next post will be full of baby child antics. ;-)

February 2010 brought a harsh winter to the Mid-Atlantic region. This is an especially dangerous time for stray, domesticated animals who can't successfully forage for food. I got a call about one such soul who had the good fortune to be rescued from the woods. He was likely abadoned by a hunter when he didn't return with the pack. He had no way of knowing that this was going to be the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Alvin at the shelter

This is Alvin. He was named for the 'A' that had been bleached on both sides of his body. When HART agreed to rescue him, he was about 15 lbs underweight, in serious need of dental work and not neutered. His first night with us was uneventful, but you only had to look into his eyes to see how broken he was and why, despite his beauty, he had been overlooked time and time again. At the time, I told my friend "All in all, a couple more days with us and I'm sure he'll settle in. Maybe not to the point that he's sleeping on the sofa, but enough so he's not pacing waiting for his next beating."

It was clear that Alvin had never lived in a home before and everything that went on in our house (cats, toddler, dogs) was a serious overload for him. He loved our daughter and trusted her implicitly, but he wouldn't come near us. He would spend hours in the backyard if we let him, no matter the temperature. To get him to come in, we'd have to go into the backyard and turn our backs to him so he would think he was sneaking back into the house to avoid us. It was in the backyard that we got to see glimpses of normal doggy behavior, almost to the point of puppyness. He'd bash another dog in the face trying to get them to play with him while everyone, including the dog, looked at him stunned. :)

In May of that same year, a family looking for a companion for their dog saw him and decided they wanted to meet him. When they came over, he reacted very well to their calm demeanor and settled in liked I'd never seen before. In a rare stroke of brilliance, I had them feed him raw hamburger meat. He wouldn't respond to treats and had to be crated in order to eat, so it was sort of a last ditch effort. Alvin, of course, loved it and loved them. The day the family said they wanted to adopt him was a joyous, but bittersweet day for us. Alvin was better than he was when we got him, but still so damaged that it shot right through your heart. Phase 2 of his new life was about to start and boy was he in store for some lovin'!

Alvin on the way to his new home

Not only was Alvin blessed with a wonderful family, but I was blessed as well. I inquire every so often about him, and his gracious mom always responds with more than a cursory "he's great, thanks." I'll share with you her latest update, more than a year after Alvin was adopted: "Alvin is doing great. We love him and while he's still pretty skittish in general, he has warmed to us well... His best times are in the morning (or in the middle of the night - he gets up once a night most nights to go out to pee) - he is very playful right after he wakes up and we enjoy the little show he puts on then. He even tries to draw us in sometimes bumping us with his nose - it's very cute... He is just the sweetest dog. It is so hard to imagine how anyone could mistreat any animal much less one as sweet as he is...
Sudden movements and loud sounds still really do a number on him. The doorbell sets him off still as well...He likes affection but doesn't really seek it out. On occasion he'll come over to me in my office and sit down so I can pet him. Whenever he's lying down, though, and anyone goes to pet him he always looks at us longingly when we stop - he likes to be petted...We are so glad we found him - or that we found each other. We know we're giving him a good life now and he deserves that after whatever he went through before being saved by HART."

Alvin Now

If Alvin's updated picture isn't the picture of redemption, I don't know what is. This is what every dog deserves: a soft bed, a warm sunbeam, regular meals and a wonderful, loving family. We are so grateful to have been a part of Alvin's redemption and wanted to share a story of what happens after the rescue. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go find a soft bed, a warm sunbeam and get in some quality animal snuggle time. ;-) Until next time, as always, hug your loved ones tight, especially if they are of the furry kind.