Rescuing Sprite

Rescuing Sprite: A Dog Lover's Story of Joy and Anguish by Mark R. Levin
2007
Weight: 10.4 oz
Method of Disposal: Leaving in a Lending Library in Decatur

The plumber came by to investigate an obnoxious and overwhelming smell that infiltrates our house every time we take a shower, wash dishes, or clean our clothes.  He walked in the basement and saw my mementos and memorial boxes of the many dogs I have loved and asked Harriet if they were for deceased dogs.  She said yes, and proceeded to lead the poor guy down the road of "Laura is actually crazy."  She decided not to admit I was a shelter manager, which only makes me look worse.  I do not intend to keep them forever, but I want to find the best way to memorialize all the dogs that have touched my life and, in almost ten years of work at an animal shelter, there are a lot of them.

I absolutely understand why other people and write and read books about rescued dogs and the families that love them, but I never understand why I do.  I read Rescuing Sprite, inevitably crying a bit, and thinking I hear so many sad animal stories on a daily basis.  Why am I doing this to myself?  This is like answering the phone at work on any given day.

But it is not really.  It is wonderful to hear about a nice, loving, generous family who loves the senior, ill dog that they adopted and does not blame the shelter for the things they could not know.  It is refreshing to hear about that dog's retirement and how good it was and how grateful the family was to know Sprite.

I am going to leave this one in the lending library and hope it opens someone else's eyes to rescue.

Rescued

Rescued: Saving Animals from Disaster: Life-Changine Stories and Practical Suggestions
Allen and Linda Anderson
2006
Weight: 1 lb
Method of Disposal: Bringing to the shelter for staff and volunteers

I read this book the second I got it, and I loved it.  I kept it since then so I could study it and learn it in case it would apply to my work and life passion for rescuing animals.  I am recognizing now that all of the information I have collected, read, and watched about saving animals would do more good if more people had access to it.  I cannot force anyone to read it, but they may want to pick it up if it was available.  I know I use to love reading my old manager's copies of Animal Sheltering Magazine.

This particular book is about the people who took care of the animals following Hurricane Katrina and what was learned from that experience.  It is written in hopes that in future natural disasters we will be more prepared to handle the outcome and to prepare for it before it happens.  I absolutely recommend it.

In other news, H and I picked up an adorable little dog running down the highway today.  He had a piece of a tether attached to his neck, is unneutered, is very skinny, and is covered with fleas and ticks.  The poor guy.  All he has done is slept since he made it back to the house.  He ate out on the sidewalk when we caught him. He was running up the sidewalk when H's boss called us.  We love him already and are optimistic that his life is about to get a whole lot better once we get him the appropriate care.  We are currently calling him "Andy" and "The Tick."  Trust me, they suit him.

Babylon Revisited and The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe

Babylon Revisited and Other Stories F Scott Fitzgerald
The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe C.S. Lewis
The publication years are unknown because the books are in shreds.
Weight: 12oz-ish?
Method of Disposal : Recycling

Another two books are gone to the strays.  I guess I should count myself as lucky that they are both classics and easy to find at the library.  Strelka/Charlotte is such a fun and playful girl, but it is time that she goes back to her mama.  She is staying with me indefinitely--both of us just hoping that mom actually comes back.  We are in some sort of strange in between place and the outcome does not look promising, but we have limited options and so we hope anyway.

My first introduction to The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe was when I was in elementary school.  My brother was reading it.  We were going to sleep on a mattress on the floor of his bedroom, and I wanted to read it too.

I was introduced to Fitzgerald in high school with The Great Gatsby and then I started reading his other work from there.

I will be recycling the remnants of both of these books and trying to hoover up the slivers that are too small to pick up.  Poor Charlotte.  She needs attention, love, and stability.  I have never been able to give it to her, and I have not been able to find anyone else who could either.  She showed up as a stray, went home with a girl that returned her due to allergies, and then went home with two women who broke up, and then came back to me yet again.  I'm trying, Baby Girl, I really am.

Marley and Me

Marley and Me: Life and Love with the World's Worst Dog by John Grogan
2008
Weight: 12 oz
Method of Disposal: Donating

 

Today, My Beautiful Baby Girl, Bayah, went into a trial adoption period with a very nice woman from work.  I was more of an emotional wreck about it than I have been in the past.  I had consistently been tormenting myself, going back and forth, about whether or not I should adopt her.  For once, my dogs seemed like they would allow it.  I could not even bring myself to say goodbye to her.  When I brought her in this morning, I had no idea she would be leaving this afternoon.  I, admittedly, went and top-secret, stealth cried on the walking trail.  It is always difficult to let a foster go but, as you may have read in past posts, often it is more clear to me that I am doing the right and necessary thing.  Bayah will have a wonderful home with this woman.  I do not doubt that, I just question my heart.  I loved her intensely.  Did I let her go because it was best for her?  Because I was afraid to take on more responsibility?  Because I was scared of being so connected to a foster?  I don't know.

 

 

 

Bayah (then Beau) was rescued with a single puppy, Aries, over a year ago.  They went into foster care with Harriet and Connor.  Aries got an amazing home with an incredibly kind, warm, loving man and Bayah went home with someone else.  She was fed a poor diet and returned to the shelter a year later overweight, with 6 teeth, hair loss, and looking like she had aged by at least five years.  We had nowhere for her to go at the shelter, but I could not just watch Harriet's foster walk back out the door without knowing she would be safe.  I took her home because I could not bare the thought of Harriet going through the emotional trauma of hearing what happened to her foster and not knowing the outcome.  I took her home because I loved her the second the woman said she had been cared for by a British couple. I would like to say it was before that, but I had hardened my heart.  How many other animals had come in before her that we did not have room for that day?  She embodied the love I felt for someone else.

 

 

I had her for a month, and I fell hard for her.  I loved her for who she was, a lazy, easygoing Chihuahua that felt like an overgrown potato in my hands.  I could bring her with me anywhere.  She played with my friend's dogs--okay, she did not play, but she could be around them, watching them warily or ignoring them.  She was the perfect co-pilot in the car.  She cuddled, burrowed, and snugged like no other.  Most importantly, my dogs tolerated her, were curious about her, and could leave her be when necessary. 

 

 

 

Today, she went home with a very nice woman who has another small dog.  A very well-groomed and spoiled Shih Tzu.  She will have a wonderful life, and I will be able to get updates about her.  It is the perfect, fairy-tale ending so why do I feel so lonely tonight?  I know it was the right decision.  I feel more and more confident about it as the hours pass, but I do not feel better about it yet.  Good luck, Sweet Bayah.  Look at me.  All in a frenzy and do not forget this blog started with the words "trial adoption."

 

 

 

Howl

Howl: A Collection of the Best Contemporary Dog Wit  Editors of BARk
2007
Weight: 1.2 lbs
Method of Disposal: Donating

I guess I have become a crazy animal woman, despite myself.  As a child, I was obsessed.  I watched every nature documentary I could find, read every book about critters my parents gave me, "adopted" as many as I could with my meager earnings from doing chores(you pay a fee and the wildlife group sends you a picture and certificate of adoption), drew/colored/hung up signs around the neighborhood encouraging people to save endangered animals.  High School/College I had what some might call a healthy appreciation of animals.  I loved them, but I did not fawn all over them or really think about them all that much.  I scoffed at "dog people" and "cat people" were beyond the realm of believability.  I say that, but I did become a vegetarian to cause as little harm to other living creatures as possible while in college.  BUT I had read an article linking animal oppression to SEX OPPRESSION!  And I loved women... I did not dream I would dedicate so much of my life to them in the years after college.  I, for sure, never thought I would dress a dog up, much less pay for the outfit. 

I would have told you that no, I would never drive to Knoxville, TN just to get two gerbils from an animal control facility.  I probably wouldn't have even said that.  I would have just looked at you warily and walked away.  As it is, my buddy, Skye, and I drove to Knoxville to get Papi and Prim in July of 2013.  She is a good friend.  I called her that morning, and she agreed to come even though she had to be at work that night, hadn't slept yet, and thought I said we were going to Kentucky for Guinea Pigs.  She is a good friend or someone with no self-preservation instinct.  I am not sure which.  We rode along, and I rambled on about anything and everything, listening to ridiculous music and pointing out fun places I wish we could stop along the way--like a billboard that proclaimed something along the lines of "Cows, Cheese, Wow!"  My dear friend had just moved back overseas, and I was a bit of a mess.  Fluctuating between being incredibly happy/excited by the trip to nervous/anxious/sad about potentially losing a friend.  I knew I was missing her when I would turn on the billboard hits she had always liked, and I had always hated.  I forced Skye to listen to them, smiling deviously and blushing.  I had never even let Harriet listen to them in my car during the year she was here and now I was making Skye suffer them even as she was doing me a good deed.  Sucks to be my friend, I guess!

When we got to the facility, no one knew where the gerbils had gone to.  They said if we could not find them then they were probably adopted.  This was alarming.  I had been e-mailing with a nice woman about holding them since we would be making quite the drive.  Not to mention, it was discomforting that no one could confirm or deny that they were adopted.  We finally found them on the floor, up against a wall, with a sign stating that gerbils learned about the world with their teeth.  Do not be alarmed if they bite you!  The cage I had waiting in the car was a huge improvement over their current digs, and I was feeling really good about taking them home.  I filled out the application, paid the adoption fee, and we turned around and headed back home with them seat belted in the back. 

We were told they were two boys, Ishmael and Queequeg.  I loved the names and was tempted to keep them.  Sherlock and Watson would be pretty cute too though...

My other dear friend, Tracy, had drawn them a welcome home card and brought treats.  I showed them off, and they started humping like fiends.  I was sure babies would soon follow, and I might have panicked.  They weren't boys after all!  As it turns out, they were both girls, and I joked about how I had adopted lesbian gerbils.  Holler.  I let Harriet name them.  She decided on the names of her childhood rabbits, Poppy and Primrose, also important flowers in England.  Over time, I molded them to fit me better and to fit the personalities of the two little rodents.  Papi is the dark-haired one and Prim was the blonde.

They were incredibly messy and destructive, frequently making me laugh, though also making me vow I would never get another gerbil again.  I would stick to hamsters in the future.  They seemed much cleaner.  The other day I went to feed the babies and found Prim dead, outside of her hut.  I buried her and moved Papi to a new, clean cage.  Papi has taken to sleeping on top of the hut when she sleeps and staying up throughout the day when she should be asleep.  I wonder what is going through her little mind.  I did not expect to lose Prim so quickly, and I hope Papi perseveres for much longer.

All of this is to say, rest in peace Queequeg/Watson/Primrose/Prim.  Thank you for spending your life with me.  I hope you had a happy one.


 

Shelter Dogs

Shelter Dogs: Amazing Stories of Adopted Strays  by Peg Kehret
2005
Weight: 4 oz
Method of Disposal: Leaving at Joe's in EAV

What is second best to a young adult book with LGBTQI characters?!  A young adult book (really more of a "chapter book") about shelter dogs!  I loved animals as a child, so many of us do and so many of us lose that passion and emapthy as we grow up.  It is encouraged when we are young, but it is something you grow out of.  You may still love cats and dogs, wax poetic about dolphins, but it is not as awe-inducing as it was and it should not effect your life dramatically.  If your canine companion is not allowed at the new apartment you are dying to move into get rid of him.  You can't let a mangy mutt get in the way of your happiness!  So what if the burger you are eating is actually a cow that suffered tremendous cruelty in a factory farm?  Nothing you can do about it.  One person cannot change the world!

I say, get em started early and then encourage them to be repsonsible/respectful in adulthood.  There is no need for breeding and animal homelessness.  There are millions of wonderful, loving pets out there looking for permanent homes, and they have some really increbible stories.  I can tell you hundreds just from the one shelter I work at.

Here is one of the best:

Turner is a handsome pit bull that was rescued from a life of dog fighting.  He came to PAWS Atlanta covered in scars, emotionally and physically.  Despite the fact that he was saved from a terrible, unthinkable situation, his troubles were not over.  Due to fear of the breed and his past, he sat at the shelter for years.  We began to wonder if he would ever find a home, but one day his hero (and ours) walked through our gates and took Turner home.

Turner is now an ambassador for his breed.  He has helped raise an infant to toddler-hood.  He lives with other rescued dogs and helps comfort pups that need a place to stay until they can be transported to other places where they can be adopted.  He has been in his loving home for many years, and he still regularly visits us with donations and supplies for the shelter.  You can see him, as he makes regular appearances on Facebook, cuddling with his kid and sleeping soundly under the covers in bed.

Picture taken by owners in their home

 

Thinking of Strelka

Microsoft Office Excel 2007 QuickSteps  by John Cronan

2006?

Weight: 1.3 lb

Method of Disposal: Recycling the Remains

It has been a little over 24 hours since Strelka started her trial period.  I left her last night with a wonderful, sweet, thoughtful woman who had clearly been doing her research.  I did not say an emotional goodbye, partly because I was sick and partially because it is a trial.  The woman is not sure if she is ready for a baby (as opposed to an adult), but she wanted to give it a shot since she had already fallen in love with Strelka.  Part of me thinks she will give her back to me because of this, and the other part of me cannot imagine that she could live with that little girl without falling in love.  If she decides to keep her, I might just need to see her one last time.  I have been thinking about her all day.

In a different time, in a different place, she would be mine.  I am smitten with her silliness.  Her langley, clumsy legs.  The way she rests her head on my chest and stares at me while I read.  The way she gets so excited to see someone and then acts as if she is startled by her own enthusiasm and playfully backs off.  She is such a flirt.  I really hope it works out with this woman, because I cannot give this girl the life she deserves.  Oh how I wish I could.  If not, we will keep searching until we find the perfect home.

Strelka did not destroy books, except for this insignificant one.  I think Leda gave her the idea.  This was one that had a little chewing around the edges.  She was being trained by the last foster, the book-eating adorable little beagle mix, who is having the time of her life by the way. 

A Rage to Kill

A Rage to Kill  by Ann Rule

1999

Weight: 12 oz

Method of Disposal: Recycling the remains

Does she choose them by title? 

 Leda went home on Sunday, and it was a beautiful thing.  The woman that adopted her is perfect for her and will love her so much.  I will never have to worry and Leda will never have to want for anything.  If only it could be this way every time.

That being said, I miss that little dog a lot.  I think about her before I go to bed at night AND when I wake up in the morning AND about a hundred times in between.  She is an adorable little spitfire.  I am now caring for Strelka, a pit bull puppy that showed up in my driveway a month and a half ago, until she can find a loving home.  She is the complete opposite of Leda.  She likes to sit or curl up in a ball to nap beside me while I do other things.  She is playful, but also very gentle and mellow.  Instead of peeing in ten places all over the yard, it takes me at least 30 minutes to convince her that it is time to go to the bathroom (though the time gets shorter and shorter each day).  She is only a few months younger than Leda, but their energy levels and attitude on life could not be more different.  Strelka is excited but cautious.  Sweet despite being a little scared.  Leda is fearless and her excitement knows no boundaries.  I am filled with so much love for them both.  I miss Leda’s eager little face, but I love Strelka’s loving gaze as she rests her head on my chest.  I cannot wait for the day when she too finds a permanent home and a loving family.

Something Wicked This Way Comes By Ray Bradbury

1983

Weight: 4 oz

Method of Disposal: The foster puppy, Leda, ate it and the remnants are in the recycling bin

The joys of puppyhood and of fosterdom. I always tell people, confidently and smartly, that I only adopt dogs 4 years and older. It is not exactly true, but I want it to be. In a world where I did not adopt dogs so that they would not be euthanized, I would only adopt adults and seniors. I know this is counter-intuitive since adults and seniors are put down more often than the younger ones, but in the case of pit bulls—all bets are off, all pits are at risk, and if you meet the right one at the right moment you take it home whether it is 10 months old or 12 years old. Hell, I took the wrong one at the wrong time, when she was 10 months old, and she reaffirmed every reason I ever gave for not adopting a puppy, and now she is the perfect 4.5 year old girl for me. All of this is to say, that I am still adamant that adults and seniors are the way to go. They need you and you need them.

So, why do I torment myself with fostering kittens and puppies?! I foster adult animals too, but I do not have a foster age limit or maxim. I guess that it is true, on some level, that babies (particularly animal babies) are made super cute for a reason and that most people are susceptible. When I walked into the clinic over 8 months ago and saw a little baby girl that looked like my Sergei, licking the vet techs' faces, despite the fact that they were removing an embedded collar, I just had to take her home to heal. I knew it would be a short-term commitment, and I knew I could give that puppy some of the things she needed until someone else could do better.

I took her home. I cleaned, medicated, and re-bandaged her oozing neck wound. I treated her for mange, and then I took her in to be spayed. I thought she would go on the adoption floor days later, but that was not what was in store for us. As it were, Leda had a failing kidney that had to be removed. I took her to the emergency vet and then to the specialist. There was a terrible and sickening chance she would die. But she didn't. The relief was overwhelming. We just had to make sure her other kidney was functioning properly.

Once that was in order, it was time for her to find a loving home. Wrong. She had ringworm. We went through quarantines, lyme dips, and oral medications. It took a Long. Damn. Time. I am getting excited/nervous ahead of time, and I know I shouldn't do that lest I test the universe, but she may go into a forever home this weekend or next week.

One of my many heartbreaking trophies from my relationship with this beautiful, intense, hellion I loved for so long is this copy of Something Wicked This Way Comes. It was one of many books to be shredded when I was not paying attention (it only takes a few moments). It is the only one that remains recognizable, though not readable. I was frustrated when I found it in the living room, the kitchen, her bedroom. I had wanted to read it, but I never had. Why was this dog still here?!

It is true that I am about to put it in the recycling bin now, but as I hold it in my hands I think about all the wonderful attributes Leda contains in that tiny little tank of a body and that always-rearin'-to-go mind. I think about all the goofy things that have made me laugh out loud and all of the sweet kisses she gave me when I rubbed her belly. The way she so eagerly and rapidly sits, shakes, and lays down (seemingly all at the same time) when she sees a treat. Sure, I also think about all the times I complained about her (SO MANY times) and all the aggravation, but it takes on a whole new light. I also, miserably, recall her crying in pain after her surgeries, waking her up during nightmares, and falling asleep with her many nights on a pallet on the floor since she could not sleep with my dogs. I think of her exuberance when she gets to play with other dogs and new people. I love that wicked little dog. I love her so much.

 And I worry, now that the time is finally here, that she will never know how much, that she will never know why I had to give her up, and that her new family will not fully realize her wonder. But I also know that I cannot offer her the things she needs. I cannot afford her the life she deserves, the life she will soon have. I cannot do these things with my current work hours and with my own special needs dogs. For 8 months, I have known this, fretted over it, mourned it, stressed about it. It is time, for me and her, but I hope that I can continue to get updates from her new life and know that what we did, while imperfect, was incredible and that it has bonded us for life. Even if I never see her again. That I gave her the chance she needed to survive and that she gave me the experience of witnessing and partaking in her embodiment of all-encompassing joy, despite all of the hurdles she had to overcome.

The Mistress's Daughter

2 X The Mistress’s Daughter  by A.M. Homes

2007

Weight: 11 oz

Method of Disposal: Donating or giving to you if you ask

I have two copies of this book that are in brand new condition.  One was given to me by my dear friend Sarah and the other I kind of inherited.  I can’t let someone just trash an A.M. Homes book so I took it!  As some of you are aware, A.M. Homes is one of my favorite fiction authors.  This book is her memoir.  You can imagine how excited I was when I first saw that it was available.

While I do much prefer her fiction, I was invested in this book.  I came in with bias, but I do not really care.  It is about Homes wrestling with being adopted, trying to find her biological parents, and connecting with her genealogy.  I agree with other reviewers that the book’s strength is in the beginning and the weakness seems to be at the end.  I cannot comment on how accurate of a portrayal this is of what it feels like to be adopted.  I have no idea.  But, I do not know why it has to be that.  It is a portrayal of how it was for A.M. Homes and that is enough.  

She is an excellent author, and I liked this book.  I think I would give it a 3 star rating on a 5 star scale.  If you would like your very own copy or know someone who would, please let me know.

RIP Ditto

Hamster (ASPCA Pet Care Guides for Kids) by Mark Evans
1993
Weight: 9.6 oz.
Method of Disposal: Donating



On April 5, 2011 a beautiful, clean, and curious Black-eyed Cream Syrian hamster named Ditto passed away in her hut at an old age, 2.5 years. We do not know what the start of her life was like, who her mom was, or much about her before she arrived at one of the big name pet stores. We can surmise that she went through a lot as a tiny puppy and was lucky(?) to be alive by the time she arrived at the retail store. PETA exposed cruelty at a major small pet supplier, and it was all over the news just last year. I am not always a fan of PETA but, in this instance, I am thankful for their undercover footage. I also know, from talking to multiple friends who worked at these retail chains, that life in the store was not idyllic either. Many hamsters never made it out alive, they got sick and received little to no treatment, or were sold to people who did not have the best of intentions. I remember one story about someone’s first month on the job. This particular store requires that you fill out a form to buy a hamster, stating that the animal will not be used as feeder. A man turned in the form stating he was No Body from Somewhere, Ga. The manager said there was nothing they could do and to let it go. There were worse stories about animals suffocating in too close quarters and arriving dead or injured.

A woman decided she would purchase her young son a hamster to teach him about responsibility. Ditto was chosen from her litter. She was given a name (Sandy) and taken home. She lived with this family for about a year, but when the woman realized she was pregnant she spoke with her doctor who told her she could no longer clean her cage, and there was no one else who could help her. She knew it would be even more difficult when she was recovering from her C-Section. She placed an ad to get rid of her and all her things for free. We made plans to meet. I picked Ditto up in a public parking lot. I had wanted a hamster, but I knew I would never be able to buy another one from the pet store. I was thankful to have her in my life. I was told that she was not big into being handled and knew to crawl into her running ball when it was time for her to leave the cage. I drove her home. She was scared and angry.

My friend, Skye, was the first person who would be able to lure her into their hands, later that same night, and I was the next. She was a sweet girl, after all, she was just terrified and had been through quite a lot in her short life. I threw out the cage I had been given for free and all of its components. I could not get the urine smell out of it, and so we started with a fresh cage. I named her Ditto after the most fabulous Beth Ditto, a strong woman for sure. She had plenty of treats, toys, and nests. She always had food, water, and a clean cage. She often roamed the house in her ball, running alongside my dog Sergei (who ignored her or was slightly scared of her) and some of my foster babies. She loved papaya treats above all others. My friend, Jasmin, once startled her while she was asleep and she promptly bit her finger, causing her to bleed, but she never hurt anyone else. Jasmin still hates her to this day. She escaped once and was caught in the act once. The first time, I was beside myself with worry and was frantic for hours, trying to find her. She chewed up the carpet, tore up some insulation, and left sunflower seed shells in various corners, but I did find her eventually. I was worried about her for days, but she continued living for a long time after that. The next time I caught her she was tightrope walking right beside her cage. I fixed it to where she could not escape again. I lamented her lack of freedom, but I had to protect her from the dogs and potential toxins.

Ditto was less social than my other rescued hamsters, and it would take just a little patience and time to gain her trust. I have always respected that in an animal, and it seems reasonable considering her rocky start. She was intelligent, curious, and energetic. She made me laugh. I felt an overwhelming amount of love for her.

She is now buried and gone, but I will never forget what an amazing little rodent and friend she was.

I am donating the ASPCA book in hopes that a parent and child will read it together before adopting a hamster. So often, parents think a hamster is a good starter pet, but they do not realize how fragile they can be. This is an excellent book explaining how to care for your buddy, describing what makes hamsters so incredible, and encouraging a healthy life overall for the little rodents. It tells you everything you need to know and more.

INTERESTING HAMSTER FACTS FROM THE BOOK:
-In the wild, hamsters run as much as 5 miles in a night.
-Hamsters can have up to 16 nipples—large litters!
-Hamsters have 16 teeth in that tiny little mouth.
-The Siberian hamster became a pet in 1940, not that long ago. The smaller hamsters, like Roborovsky’s were even more recently introduced.
-Dwarf hamsters and Chinese hamsters like to live in pairs, but Syrians cannot live together after they are 5 months old. They will fight each other.