In a blog post written by Jo Singer a day or two ago, she gave us notice that Dexter, one of two kittens witnesses saw Florida resident Wilana Joenel Frazier and her two children “pummeling” with an aluminum baseball bat at a public park, had succumbed to his injuries. He suffered a setback where his seizures started again, getting more and more frequent and stronger. His family chose to end his pain and suffering.

In her post, Jo reflects on the  magic of these voiceless beings that cross our paths; the ones that accompany our journey, albeit sometimes for just a bit:

Although I am not deeply religious, I truly believe there is a higher power that works in mysterious ways. I believe that we are often touched by loving angels that come to us in many different forms, and that, while they are always present to guide us, we may not yet understand their presence in our journey through life.

Many of these angels come to us in the form of animals, many of which we may never have personally met but they always come to us for a reason, to inspire us, to give us courage, and reflect back to us our inner strength and beauty, many times of which we are not fully aware.

 

Recently, I had just such an encounter.

A couple weeks ago, my neighborhood was ordered to evacuate due to a wildfire threatening us. I have several animals and stayed to take care of them.

My neighborhood was abandoned. It felt a little like being the only person left in the world. The silence was practically deafening. Beyond the far back fence of my property is a house where the family evacuated leaving their nine cats to fend for themselves. There were three kittens, two teenagers and four adult cats. The kittens looked terrible — very thin with eye and nose discharge, dirty ears and missing fur. One poor baby could barely open his eyes to see. All were a little shy of me.

Immediately, I started to mix some antibiotics into their food twice a day. They responded quickly to the meds despite probably receiving less than what they required. This photo shows the worst of the babies just 24 hours after getting some antibiotics into his system. His little body has responded quickly.

Over the next week, I continued the meds and fed them twice a day. They came around quickly and, after a meal, they would all grab a spot and lay around me beside the pond. It had all the feel of a family union — in the midst of a neighborhood under threat of wildfire.

“Goops”, the baby with the most congested eyes, really came around and would often come to me to be petted even before he would eat. Other times he would eat a belly full, then flop down beside me and roll over so I could rub his fat belly. It felt so good to see his eyes clear up, his body put on weight and his personality emerge. I knew he was going to make it.

Two Fridays ago, I shot this photo of the little guy. And that was the last time I saw him. I remember looking back at him as he lay in the grass playing with the other cats, but I never suspected that would be the last time I would see him. I’m not even sure what feeling to hold in my heart. Joy for having brought him around? Sadness because I worry something terrible happened to him? Or hope that he found a new home? Maybe gratitude for having met him.

For a couple weeks, quieted away from the world, we shared a marvelous time and I shall never forget how the personality of this tiny tyke changed into such a sweet, loving and giving guy. How happy he was. I hope he is well and living somewhere wonderful. He deserves it.

In the meanwhile, I continue to feed the other eight — concerned whenever one does not show up at mealtime. As money permits, I will get them tested and “fixed,” then hopefully rehome some of them. One girl, I call her Izzi, was the first to approach me — even before I knew there were kittens. She distances herself from the group and is always waiting for me near the path. As close as she can get to my house without being too near the dogs inside the fence.

It is incredible how much they can touch your heart without saying a word. They have such respect and ritual. They have ideas — it is Izzi’s goal to get out of there and into a home. She does not plan to live her life as a homeless cat. And that is obvious.

I hope with all my heart that Goops is well. He certainly touched my heart. Even for the couple weeks I knew him. I believe Jo is right: “they always come to us for a reason, to inspire us, to give us courage, and reflect back to us our inner strength and beauty, many times of which we are not fully aware.”

I awoke this morning a little after seven. As is customary, I laid there quietly listening to the sounds in the room — the snores, the little dream barks, the deep breathing. This would be the last peace and quiet I would know once my feet hit the floor for the next few hours as I work through my morning chores — emptying litter boxes, feeding everyone, and cleaning the yard.

I heard Layla meow rather loudly from her cat carrier in the bathroom. Twice… or was there a third meow? It was an odd mix of moan and meow. A bit louder, but the same sound I heard from her twice last night.

How grateful I am that Ike spotted her yesterday evening and alerted me to her whereabouts.

After I rise in the morning, I stumble down the hall to turn on the stereo and get some coffee. Then I stand in front of the dining room window and check on Otis and Layla. Their cattery is just outside the dining room window.

Wednesday morning, I saw Otis, but no Layla. I kept looking, but this feeling came over me that Otis was there alone. So I went out to check, and sure enough, there was no Layla in the cattery. No signs of any trouble; no signs of an escape route, but no Layla.

For two days, I looked everywhere for her, called her name, checked the road often to be sure she had not tried to cross it and something happened. I talked to neighbors. I looked out the windows with my binoculars often and went for frequent walks looking and calling her name.

It rained a lot yesterday. Layla is a very smart girl, so I felt sure she would be hunkered down somewhere dry.

After the rain stopped last evening, I again went out looking and calling her. I was in the very back of my property. My dogs were also in the very back, but inside the fenced part of the yard. I went to again check the road. There is a vantage point in the very back that affords a long view. Thankfully, no cat in the road or along the sides of the road.

As I was coming back across the yard, Ike started barking and looking at a specific spot outside the fence. Because he was so insistent, I gave his bark more attention.

There is a small pole barn of sorts in that part of the yard. Open wood slates with an old piece of weathered plywood on top. I looked all around it and saw nothing. But Ike would not stop. So I checked in and around the few things inside and behind a piece of wood that was leaning against the back of the shed, I saw a furry back.

Layla is similar in color to a rabbit or a squirrel, so I wasn’t sure what I was seeing at first. When I got down closer, I saw it was Layla. She seemed stressed, but she looked okay; I was elated!

I ran to the house to get a cat carrier. She has all her claws so I was not going to risk getting clawed and losing her on the walk back to the house.

I put her in the carrier with little trouble. I walked the long way around to the front through my neighbor’s yard. We stopped by the cattery. I was thinking of releasing her back into the cattery because I wanted Otis to know she was okay. But she seemed a bit weary and uncomfortable. Not knowing what happened that caused her to leave the cattery a couple nights before, I put her back into the carrier and brought her in the house. I put her in the hall bathroom with food and water and closed the door so she would not be disturbed.

I visited her several times to talk to her and pet her. She seemed exhausted and stressed. She seemed to have a sore leg, but she still used it. She seemed stressed, but I did not detect that she was distressed. I thought a night of safe sleep would help her wonders.

This morning’s quiet was broken by Layla’s meows. “Ah,” I thought, “my baby is awake.” She rested in comfort and safety last night. I wanted to give her a good look over this morning and see if she needed to go to the vet. So I got up to go see her. When I looked into her carrier, I could tell by her stillness that she had just passed. There is a difference in the energy that surrounds a living body and one whose spirit has left.

My baby Layla passed away. And I am blanketed in the solemnness.

Life is like a hike through the wilderness where every so often we come out from the bush and find ourselves on a cliff. We are left to think, “now what? Where do I go?”

Before I buried her, I took Layla to Otis so he could have closure; so he might understand. He was so happy to see her yesterday evening when I first found her. I am hoping that seeing her helps him to understand why she is not coming back; why neither of us will ever see or hear or feel her again.

I have no idea what happened. No idea how or why she left the cattery, where she has been for a day and a half nor what caused her death. But sadly, those answers would not change anything. So I just let go of the questions.

She died “found” and in the house with her family. For that, I am grateful.

………………………….
Otis and Layla were left behind when their family moved out in December 2007. They are foreclosure babies. In February 2008, they were diagnosed as Feline Leukemia positive and the vet wanted to euthanize them on the spot, but I couldn’t do it. So I built them a cattery where they could live freely, yet be safely away from other cats. You can read more about them at these links: [ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ].

For the past few days, I have been watching a rescue effort via Facebook of a pit/mix in a Tennessee shelter. Her name is Sasha. She and her four puppies were brought to the shelter in March. Her puppies were adopted, but she remained sheltered.

One faithful trooper kept posting her info on Facebook. He started posting her in March when she arrived at the shelter. Recently a new campaign was started for Sasha and this time, it crossed the right paths at the right time and a fire was ignited. The rescue effort took many twists and turns and often felt like a roller coaster ride. My own fingernails grew weary from hanging by them as I watched.

One note yesterday said, “I will call [rescuer] again after 12:30…” The reply that came back said, “Won’t the dog be PTS at noon?” It was time stamped 11:55 am.

Several quick notes later came word that she has been put on “hold” from being killed and would be pulled out of the shelter on Saturday, heading to a rescue. A bit ago came a message that someone was on their way to pull Sasha today! Forgive me, but I continue to hold my breath and cross my fingers until I see photos of her “on the outside.”

While my heart relishes the victory of this save, my mind goes to the dog that took Sasha’s place yesterday on the death list. We did not see a photo of him or her. Or did we, but we did not respond? That dog was just as undeserving of death as Sasha.

Perusing the posts on my Facebook wall, I saw the news that Robeson County has changed their laws regarding the killing of animals in their shelter. They will not longer empty a needle full of barbituates into the chest cavity of an animal hoping to strike their heart and end their lives. The heart is difficult to find and if missed, the drugs cause great pain to the animal before they finally die. Instead, Robeson County will use a more humane method… intravenous euthanasia.

I am struck by the sad reality that we even discuss “humane killing.” What is humane about killing voiceless, innocent creatures?

Another post protested the use of gas chambers to kill cats and dogs. I should have not watched the video because certain images will be forever seared in my mind. They bring me to tears even now as I write this. The dogs already lifted into the metal gassing box are wagging their tails completely trusting the people who have placed them there. And their trust was violated; they were betrayed.

We have to stop the killing!

While we make statements about how spay/neuter will reduce the many cats and dogs brought to shelters, that idea is for the future, the next generation of animals. Spay/neuter does not address the pets in urgent need at this very moment. And sadly, “at this very moment” applies whether you read this post as soon as I publish it or if you read it tomorrow… or even next week. There is a huge need to adopt right now.

The Three Brothers are available for adoption. Contact v.larkhill@googlemail.com.

If you have a cat or dog, consider adopting a companion for them. Dogs are pack animals and operate very well within a group. Cats love company, too. In my household, the cats all pair up and are always found napping with their “best friend.”

If you already have two, consider a third… or maybe even a fourth one, too.

Please adopt a rescue or shelter pet.

If you aren’t ready to adopt, consider fostering a cat or dog. Call your local rescue groups and shelters. There is always a need for foster homes.

Save a life today! And help us empty all the shelters and all the rescues.

Update: Sasha is safely out of the shelter.

I have to admit that I am always smitten by the underdog rescues. The ones that can test your meddle, but heap you with such passionate rewards.

The first time I saw photos of Gülümser*, I was in love with her.

The first words I said were, “She’s beautiful!”

They just came from somewhere inside my heart as I looked at her on my computer screen from thousands of miles away. The damages she suffered on the outside were extraordinary, but the message in her eyes transcended them.

I could see such strength in her character and a curious, gentle personality glowing through her horribly disfigured face. She had been devoured by worms when she was just four weeks old. The vets treating her decided that if SHE wanted to fight back, she would be given every chance to survive. And survive she did!

I featured her in a post a few days ago.

Today, I received new photos of Gülümser and I wanted to share with you this beautiful little girl’s photo gallery. The first photo is so funny… she loves water!

Though I have never met Gülümser, I am thankful to the rescuers — from Let’s Adopt! and the vet’s clinic to her new family — for giving her the support she needed to show all of us what she is truly made of. She’s really is beautiful!

Here’s a link to her photo album, but be forewarned, there are some graphic images in this album.

Hugs to YOU, Gülümser! You look mah-velous!!!

And a shout out to Let’s Adopt! USA for their excellent post on the care and feeding of orphaned kittens.

*Gülümser means “one who always smiles.”

I am not at all comfortable with that statement. I feel it gives us permission to not try as hard as we might. It gives our heart an “excuse” when things don’t work out. And for some, it gives reason to not even get involved in the first place because “we can’t save ‘em all.”

With that logic in mind, who CAN we save? Which animal will we wave our magic wand over and rescue?

Do we pick the one that just needs to be brushed off and will likely be easy to place, say a healthy, cute one…. or do we pick the one with immediate and perhaps long-term needs? The one that may never look quite “normal;” the one whose life may not be as long because of it’s physical maladies?

In a kill-shelter where animals are routinely culled, the animal with serious injuries is often the first to be eliminated. Her life is deemed not worthy of the chance. She is too much bother, so put her on the kill list. And within hours of coming through the front door as living, breathing, feeling sentient beings, animals like this go out the back door dead — they are waste to be disposed of as you would trash, often to be sent to landfills.

But what if the answer doesn’t seem so obvious? What if from the outside both candidates look like they have good potential to be selected by a loving family?

In this case, the dog on the right, Jerome, is dead. A seven month old dog originally adopted from the ASPCA, the richest humane society in the US, was euthanized by a New York city pound who claimed that Jerome guarded his food, a condition which should never result in a dog being killed because the prognosis for rehabilitation is always good.

Who are the people making these life and death decisions? Are they even trained behaviorists/veterinarians?

I looked at the stats for a Canadian SPCA. The number of cats and dogs in the “euthanized for space” column seemed low with regards to their overall numbers, but the numbers for animals killed because they were sick/behavioral (yes, the two were lumped into one column) seemed high. They certainly seem to have a lot of very sick and/or very ill-mannered cats: 1844 killed in 2009 alone! And of the 316 dogs killed that year, 311 had medical/behavioral problems.

Wow! Maybe they need to re-evaluate the way they assess animals in their “care.”

NS SPCA 2009 stats

I think we need to take a closer look at the statement, “We can’t save ‘em all.” We should change the word “can’t” to “won’t” — because that is what the original statement actually implies.

Then maybe we can add a few words at the end of the sentence so it reads something like –

We won’t save ‘em all — if we don’t try.

I am much more comfortable with that statement. It leaves me infinitely more positive that we WILL affect change.

With regards to the animals used in this post today:

Bottom right: Jerome — dead because the ASPCA refused to pick Jerome up from the pound even though his microchip was registered to them..

“Dear God,
sorry to disturb you, but…
I feel that I should be heard
Loud and clear.
We all need a big reduction in amount of tears
And all the people that you made in your image,
see them fighting
In the street
’cause they can’t make opinions meet about God,
I can’t believe in you…”

Yesterday, my heart was wrapped in this song by Sarah McLachlan; it’s entitled Dear God. I could have filled a video with photos of my little Paketo, but as I started to work on it, another motivation came through me. It addressed an equal anger that’s inside me.

So for our animals still searching for their own homes, their place to fit in, this is for you from Paketo and me.

To everyone that sent me a special note: each one made me cry all over again. But not at my loss so much as at the warmth and the heartfelt love contained in each one. Many, many gracias to each of you. Your notes have been so wonderful and so appreciated. Your stories, so touching.

Hug a rescuer. Donate to animal advocacy. Join Let’s Adopt!

I am struck by how we overlook the simple bounty we have all around us. We take it for granted that the sun will rise each day, that our dog will poop outside and that our cat will sleep on top of us at night.

The internet has brought the world closer and social media has made it possible for us to lend a hand to causes around the globe. With the click of a mouse, we can sign a petition or “share” info on animals in urgent need. I even participated in the rescue of a dog from death row a few weeks ago purely by happenstance. I “shared” her info on Facebook and within hours, plans were in the works to save her.

By magic, people stepped up to pull her from the shelter, foster her and drive her the five hours to her new home.

What a “high” we all got from the experience.

But closer to home… in my own home… I lost one of my cats this morning. I have just buried her.

She died as a result of a freak accident. One that hindsight says I could have been prevented. And in hindsight, I WOULD have done things differently. In hindsight, I would have been much more diligent, more careful, more aware…. simply, I would have been “more.”

But hindsight is neither fair nor kind.

Does this freak accident make me an irresponsible pet owner? Certainly it didn’t have to happen, but the morning routine was not anything different than it has been for years. Except this morning, something terrible happened and my baby Paketo paid with her life.

No amount of tears, no amount of hugs, no amount of prayers and begging put her life back into her tiny body. No amount of screams have brought me any comfort. I ran to her lifeless body hoping and wishing that maybe it was not her. But that wish was not mine to have today.

There are simply no words to express to you how hard this loss is to me. The pain takes me to a place where there are no words. Just pain, regret, sadness, remorse, anger… and silence.

I lost my baby Paketo this morning. This was not at all what I expected from this day. And there is nothing you can say to me to make me feel worse than I do.

But I would like to ask you to take a moment and recognize the simple bounties in your own life. And I would ask you to extend this recognition of your own bounty to family, friends and community. We all make mistakes and nobody can make us feel worse than we make ourselves.

So how about we all step back for a minute and take a new look at things? How about we offer kindness and humility to our neighbors? How about we consider what Francesca has endured for the past 20 months? Brindi is still alive. How about we give Francesca the chance to do things different? I would give the world for that chance right now.

Please, for today, spread this message as far and wide as you can. Take it beyond Halifax. Send it to your friends, your family and your community. We can all do a little better for our companion animals. Maybe we can even treat people as we would like to be treated for a change.

I love you always, baby Paketo! And I am so sorry…

Un beso, Holly

[Note: Paketo is the phonetic spelling of the Spanish word for "little." Full grown, Paketo weighed 5 pounds. She was my "little Paketo," my "little little."]

The next morning, there was a line. There were two cats in the bed and one beside it waiting for someone to get out of it. Here’s Olive getting a sun bath one morning recently when we had a cold snap.

This end of the house faces east, so mornings are a very popular time in the bed because of the sun coming in. The cats pile up on a couple of the dog crates to catch the sun. This is Olive and Diego.

And my gorgeous Goose! His real name is Gustafus, thus a cat named Goose. He walked out of the woods one Friday afternoon as a small, skinny kitten. He was talking away. Kind of a “hey, you! I would like to come in and have something to eat.” With that, Lily and LeRoy went running across the front yard at full speed. Goose turned and ran back into the woods. The dogs stopped at the fence line. Goose didn’t realize there was a fence there to stop them. It took me about a half hour to coax Goose out of the woods enough that I could SNATCH him! I eventually got him.

In other news…

The puppy is starting to get his adult teeth! Yeah for that!!! He STILL needs a name. His owners certainly don’t seem to be missing him much yet… sigh. Did I mention that he sleeps in my bed? Took him a couple days to realize THAT was the place to be on a cold night.

So that’s the skinny on my week so far. Loving the simple things. Here’s wishing you simple things, too.

The most important thing for you to know is that annual revaccination of your pet is unnecessary! This information is based on scientific studies conducted by Dr. Ron Schultz, a very well respected veterinary immunologist. What continues to amaze me, is how few people know about this important information. The studies I am speaking of were done over 10 years ago. This is not new information. The truth is that the majority of veterinary practices continue to not only offer annual revaccination, they insist upon it.

Over vaccination can be hazardous to your pets health. Vaccines have been linked to a number of autoimmune diseases: interstitial nephritis in cats, pancreatitis in both dogs and cats, addisons, cushings and thyroid disease. Other diseases that can be triggered or worsened by vaccines are: seizure disorder, allergies and cancer.

To protect your pet:
1. Vaccine selection should be based on risk assessment. There are a variety of vaccines on the market for dogs and cats and not all of them should be given to every pet. The AVMA has set guidelines for the core vaccines (what they feel every animal should have).
a. Core vaccines in dogs are: Distemper, Parvo and Rabies.
b. Core vaccines in Cats are: FVRCP and Rabies
c. Core vaccines in both dogs and cats have been scientifically proven to provide immunity for 3-7 years.
2. 3 year vaccines are readily available for the core vaccines in dogs.
3. Non-adjuvanted vaccines (those that are supposed to be less likely to cause Feline Sarcomas in cats are currently only labeled for 1 year. This does not mean that they don’t provide immunity for a much longer period. It just means that the manufacturer has not done studies to prove duration of immunity.
4. Titer tests are available for both dogs and cats. These tests will show if the pet has antibodies to the diseases tested for which is one indication that the pet remains protected. Titer testing costs more than vaccinating but is the safer alternative.
5. Vaccines are labeled for use in healthy animals only. If your pet is sick with either an acute or chronic illness, he/she should not be vaccinated. This means that animals diagnosed with seizures, cancer, cushings, addisons, thyroid disease, allergies just to name a few should be deemed too sick to vaccinate. As we mentioned above, the fact is they probably don’t need to be revaccinated anyway!

I have to say that this is probably the hill I will chose to die on. Why? My practice consists mainly of the treatment of chronically/terminally ill animals and I continue to see other veterinarians vaccinating these pets prior to their coming to me for treatment.

If you are not my client, I want you to know that as the advocate for your pet’s health, YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO REFUSE VACCINATIONS, YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO ASK FOR A 3 YEAR VACCINE OR TITER TESTING. Just learn to say NO! Your pet will thank you.

For More Information!
www.creatingwellbeings.com
www.drmarcia.wordpress.com

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