Here are some interesting tales of animal rescue from my perspective as a Veterinarian. First up: an Op-Ed piece I wrote about animal care after Hurricane Katrina.
ANIMAL CARE AFTER HURRICANE KATRINA: ONE VETERINARIAN'S PERSPECTIVE
Working to Save Animls in Gulf Coast Chaos
Tuesday, September 27 2005
By Timothy O'Leary DVM
Before long America will develop hurricane burnout. Not for lack of concern or compassion, but because at all levels of government the response ball was kicked "wide left". The recent disaster was another solar plexis punch to our collective egos. The spin doctors are hard at work and soon we will be persuaded to forget what we saw and place are collective heads back into the sand.
In time we will forget those not evacuated, the 2000 missing children on CNN, the decades of levee neglect, the storm deterrent effect of long destroyed marsh land and ,of course, "Mickey "Brown and his Arabian horse qualifications.
People choose their battles and I am very lucky to be involved in the animal care field. With hope, public reaction to the above problems will produce a few politically courageous deidicated leaders to address these issues.
The Humane Society of the US estimated that approximately 50,000 animals were left behind in New Orleans. "Animal people" are an eclectic lot who suffer when animals suffer. Their concern is not jaded by species,breed, or the pets' economic status. When our innocent ones (children and animals) aare facing harm, political, social and economic fences collapse. It is important not to comingle govermental inadequacies with the response of the "person in the street" to the recent tragedies.
Barbara Carr, executive director of the Erie County SPCA, experienced the bureaucratic chaos at the national level with the animal welfare organizations: conflicting information, unanswered e-mails, forms, paper work, delays, wrong numbers, and voice mail all creating general response inertia.
Fortunately for many hundreds of animals, Director Carr took the "Nike" approach and the wonderful people of the much nationally maligned Western New York area made a rapid response happen. Gina Browning, the SPCA spokesperson , went to work raising money. The people of Eire County responded with great generosity. A 12 week rotating contingent of animal help was off to the Big Easy. It was my honor to be part of the first response effort. I was asked to write some comments on my observations and so in no particular order here goes.
The local work load at the Erie County SPCA does not slow down during a national animal emergency. The SPCA is sending its valuable people out of state, leaving more work for those there. When I last saw Gina Browning, she was offering to help clean kennels.
The first animal triage station was set up in a feed and garden center adjacent to the flooded ninth ward. The operation was organized by Dr. Missy Jackson of the Southern Animal Foundation of New Orleans. Dr. Jackson is a classic, timeless, inner-city veterinarian who is a cross between Old Mother Hubbard and a pit bull. She informed me that the "FEM-A**" people forbade her to work on neighorhood pets, "rescued animals only". I told her I had a car full of veterinary supplies and a first-rate assistant (the SPCA"s Joanie D'Aurelio) and proceeded to set up "shop" in the parking lot.
During the drive down, my biggest concern was the fear the government would order the remaining animals to be destroyed as a health and safety risk. Initially, the soldiers were not allowed to rescue animals. It visably affected their morale and created victim resistance. Fortunately a compassionate , grounded military officer somewhere changed all that.
Animal rescue field teams from HSUS, ASPCA, LASPCA and independent fire rescue squads combed the neighborhoods for furry survivors and the rare living person. Soon trucks and boat trailers would line up filled with airline sky kennels containing sick, starving, terrified animals.
The victims presented health hazards via chemical contamination, infectious agents, and bite risk. The chaos created by all those trucks, boats, people and animals simultaneously arriving was overwhelming. Thanks to many local volunteers, we soon got our "land legs", set up a system and got to work.
As the confusion abated, one could look in any direction and see heart warming scenes. Burly firemen cradling small dogs like fullbacks avoiding fumbles, people helping people, red beans and rice and the Cajun woman in floral print dresses bottle feeding kittens in the bird food aisle that could just as well have been a front porch.
An attractive tall woman walked by sporting high water waders with a box of dog treats attached to her shoulder high boot straps. It was reminiscent of film noir night club scenes: "Cigars? Cigarettes?". I could envision her wading through the toxic waters: "Kibble? Pupperoni?" The image detracted from the danger to which she exposed herself. Man hole covers flew off as flood waters rose.
The French Quarter was bruised but dry. The center island of canal street became a row of makeshift television studios. I witnessed three police officers entering an office building shadowed by a flock of television crews.
I saw New York police assisting New Orleans police. I didn't see any FDNY personnel but I'll bet they were there. The protectors of one wounded city helping another. Even inept governments can't mess that up. I must admit, my first impression while viewing the NOPD, NYPD, and the 82nd airborne working in tandem was YIKES!!! I promptly crossed looting off my "Things to Do" list.
The air was hot and humid with a pervasive stench of rotting garbage and chemical laden mud punctuated at times with the putrid smell of something dead. Hopefully just a rat.
Each animal would be given a number, a medical record, and a description of where or how it was found. Even local volunteers were at times unsure.
Many dogs and cats required toxic chemical deris removed. Most needed their eyes flushed. Most were emaciated and nervous. Some had blunt physical trauma or bite wounds and a few had been shot. Many were sick from water ingestion. Others clearly were victims prior to the hurricane.
As night curfew approached, animal rescue vehicles became animal transport trucks moving the former pets 45 slow miles to the Lamar Dixon Expo Center (in Gonzales, La). The animal equivalent of the Super Dome. Five enormous equine stables would serve as the world's largest kennel. The number of animals rose to 2400, then 3500. The order from "above" was to take no more. Ultimately, some 200 full cages were left unattended at the Jefferson Feed Center (emergency animal housing location in New Orleans). Alternative animal staging areas were declined due to "liability issues".
The pressure to move animals out of Lamar Dixon, coupled with stone age office skills and all those chiefs created an enormous second wave of orphan animls. Referring homeless victims to Petfinder.com came up a little short considering the low number of computers in the Ninth Ward prior to the hurricane,let alone after.
At the end of the 24 hour day, the volunteers made it all somehow work. They cleaned the cages, fed the horses, birds, cats, dogs, and reptiles. They were the people who helped and then consoled those who left again without their much loved pet.
They are animal people.
When someone is drowning, the average person doesn't consult his supervisor or worry about liability issues before throwing a life preserver. As the parish (county) leader said, "Send another idiot, a beter idiot, just not the same idiot"._____________________________________________________
What Gets My Goat
Saturday, June 7
Hmmm... well, first of all let's talk about what get's my lilacs. I happen to love lilacs and have over the years planted several trees so that I have many colors and fragrances this time of year. With that said I'm now at war trying to save that which is precious to me - my lilacs! "So, what's the problem" you're thinking "my lilacs are fine". That might be because you don't have goats - something I can no longer say. Here's a fact that I know without even using Google - GOATS LOVE LILACS - and I don't think it's the fragrance or the ambiance. They simply find them delicious. Now your logical brain is saying why did you get goats? Answer: Because they were headed for auction and most assuredly would be slaughtered for someone's dinner (yes, some people eat goats).Their alternative was Almost Home. It didn't take much...Dr. Tim said get into the van or be sold for meat - take your pick. They got into the van. Okay, possibly the fact that we had cracked corn and hay in the van and actually pushed them in may have moved things along. May I say these are very ungrateful goats? They are rewarding our efforts to preserve their lives by eating our lilacs. I might add that our hostas aren't safe. either. I also saw a twinkle in their eyes when they saw me circling things in the Burpee seed catalog. I know they're planning their attack on my garden - stay tuned!
These goats are a group of three. Little Miss Gretchen has a shiny black coat and wears dramatic eye make-up. She's your typical adolescent, including thinking she knows what's best for her whether we agree or not. May I mention she doesn't hesitate to tell us. Her brother Higgins was sporting the unicorn look. He lost one of his horns to splitting and infection. It needed to come off. It grew back, but with a mind of its own and curls at a very strange angle. Then there's their cousin, Powder - our little white wonder. Powder is a perfect name for him because when you tell him "NO", your very words disintegrate into powder.
Do I wish Almost Home had stayed out of this? Do I wish we would have just let things happen as they would? NO!!! I find every day more interesting with Gretchen, Higgins and Powder. What smart, inquisitive animals the are. I've never known such curiosity and creativity. For instance...they make up games. Gretchen has one in particular that she loves. We call it kitty cocoa butt. Here are the rules: When there are a group of cats in the goat barn (which is all the time - they share quarters with the feral cats), every time a kitty hits the floor you run at it with your head down like you're going to gore it (this is only if you're a goat - if you do this and you're a person, you could be hospitalized for evaluation). Then the kitty jumps back up onto whatever upper surface it is near and another one jumps down. The chase is then on in cocoa butt position. That kitty jumps up and another jumps down. You get the drift. I believe the cats think you can kill a goat with exhaustion. The great thing is when the game is over and all are tired, they all curl up and sleep together.
What still throw me into absolute wails of laughter even when I'm all alone is trying to lead a goat on a rope. It's just too funny. Our little dears wear collars. When we need to get them from point A to point B we put a leash on them. Then the antics begin. Just a little tug sends the now captured goat into a fit that highly resembles a very severe seizure. We jump up into the air, landing on our backs, bleating as if a knife was just thrust into a main artery. Then another tug on the rope will put them on their backs being literally dragged. When you stop, they stand up and start the rock star leap into the air again. It's really a sight to behold.
Life has changed at Almost Home adding another species. But to think that these little guys would have been slaughtered makes me cringe. I'm grateful for what they have added to an alread magical pla
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Please,Please Don't Eat the Daisy!
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Dr. Tim had occasion to be on site at the Erie County SPCA and happened to mention that there was a pig from another SPCA that was possibly coming to Almost Home Animla Sanctuary. It had been comficated from a cruelty case and needed a place to safely live out its life. The response he got was "Wait, you have to take our pig! please take our pig too." "I'm not taking Henna', he said, "She loves it here". Henna is a very large pig that's been with the Erie County SPCA for many years. She's very loved, very compfortable in her beautiful pen and helps with the SPCA's farm animal education. "No, not Henna", she said. 'Let me show you." Out to the SPCA's barnyard they went. There was Henna in her pile of fresh straw with her food and water dishes full and her lovely name plaque on her fence that gave her the clout of a very spoiled pig.
Dr. Tim then glanced over at the pen next to Henna's. There was a much smaller pig with a dirty pen, no visible straw, tipped over dishes and a pile of rocks and bricks for a bed. See, his SPCA compnaion said. She's giving us really bad P.R. We get complaints because people think we're mistreating her. "Why is her pen full of rocks and bricks?" Tim asked. And therein was discovered the problem. It ws explained to him that Daisy was just a piglet a short time ago when the SPCA got a a call that she was running down the main street in a neighboring city, most likely an escapee on her way to market or auction, eventually headed into the food chain. When she came to the SPCA, she quickly became cage crazy, a condition that some animals suffer when confinement is intolerable to them. In her boredom. Daisy did what bored pigs do, she rooted. And she rooted, and she rooted and she rooted. Unfortunately, her pen was butted up against the SPCA's main building. She was literally bringing up the foundation. They were in danger of structural problems. This obsessive rooting also quickly buried her fresh straw and water, making it appear that she wasn't given any.
Being the adventurous type that he is, Dr. Tim agreed to bring Daisy to Almost Home Animal Sanctuary. We were both pig rookies, but I've learned so much in the last few weeks that you'd think I had a brain transplant. For instance, did you know pigs are the fourth most intelligent species on earth, only below humans, primates and dolphins? I've learned it well enough that I'm careful not to let her see the password for my cell phone or where I keep my car keys. We've also learned what sweet, personable creatures pigs are. Daisy very quickly settled into a routine at the sanctuary and is a vital part of the whole wonderful gang.
In the mornings, it has been Dr. Tim's tradition to start the day out walking...well at first the dogs and a few of the cats that liked to tag along. Shortly thereafter I'd see him heading for the walking path surrounded by happy dogs, several cats trailing behing and a small group of goats that don't want to miss a thing. my morning look out the window is now much more amusing as I watch Tim walking in the center of a group of dogs, just head of a few trailing cats, mixed in with a bunch of curious goats and a very happy pig trotting along behind. Who needs Animal Planet?
We have also learned where the terms "pig out" and "eating like a pig" come from. Pigs obviously live for cuisine. And "when pigs fly" is not such a far fetched concept. You should see this pretty pink girl when she's up in the woods and we call her for lunch. She literally gallops down the path and through the yard, and yes, they can smile! The sanctuary has taken on a whole new dynamic by adding Daisy to the mix. And we're so grateful she had the good sense to bail out before she got to wherever she was going that fateful day she ended up with the SPCA. It would have been a shame for this sweet girl to end up in a slaughter house. Stay tuned, her boyfriend is set to arrive in the near future. Fortunately, Roy is neutered.
