"Vicious Little Pomeranians"

(Picture left-- Chance, the "vampire dog" shortly after rescued.)

"Oh my God, he looks like he's Chance's brother!"

Such was my email response this morning to a message from one of the shelter volunteers about a Pomeranian named, "Jay" who, well, like Chance, doesn't seem to be doing too well in the shelter.

Jay is in fact, a "Severe" (just like Chance) in his shelter behavior evaluation.

I seem to have a "thing" for Pomeranians and Chow Chows.

In fact, the last Pom I brought home to "foster" I ended up keeping.

"Chance" has since become my "beautiful little puppy boy" -- despite the fact he is about ten years old.

That's because Chance looks like a baby Chow Chow and loves to be babied.

For those who don't know Chance's story, he arrived at the city shelter about 4 months ago and was trying to bite everyone who went near or attempted to handle him.

The veterinary notes on Chance's record say:

"Extremely aggressive, lunging, biting rope."

Despite being a small, purebred dog, Chance nevertheless ended up on the shelter Euthanasia list due to "severe" behavior.

I called the shelter to pull Chance from the list and a couple of days later brought him home with me with the idea of fostering and socializing until Chance could be adopted.

But, I fell in love with the fluffy, little fox-like dog. What's more, Chance is very good with my other dog, Tina and totally devoted to me. I can do anything with Chance, including rock him in my arms and lap like a baby.

Meanwhile, Chance and Tina make a very beautiful and balanced pair. Tina is the more independent, "alpha" and exploratory of the two dogs. Chance is the more protective and dependent. He always stays right beside me during a walk, while Tina always prances a few steps in front of both of us. -- Tina would have made a great sled or "herding" farm dog.

When first rescued, Chance needed dentistry, removal of a fatty tissue mass on his stomach and neutering before I could even hope to place him. But his distrust of strangers, as well as his age and the "behavior" notes on his shelter record made me think that even following the vetting, Chance would not be an easy adoption.

I in fact, never advertised Chance for Adoption, even following the surgeries.

It's as though I never really considered adopting Chance out at all.

But, the bad part of a rescuer making the choice to keep a "foster" pet over adopting out, is that you then use up that potential foster spot for another animal who would desperately need it.

I thus have no open foster space now for "Jay," the Pomeranian who not only looks like a clone to Chance, but also seems to be heading on the same path in the shelter. Unless rescued, Jay too, would land on the Euthanasia list -- if not today, then tomorrow.

So what do I do?

I will probably head to the shelter today to meet with Jay, take pictures and try to figure out some way of pulling him, if in fact, no other rescue has stepped forward.

I know I will not let this little "fluff dog" go down.

For all the love, joy and laughs Chance has brought to my life, I "owe" it to his fellow other Pomeranians in distress to find something for them.

Pomeranians are feisty little dogs and like Chow Chows, not the easiest to understand.

Both breeds take time to trust people they don't know and can be combative and contrary when they don't.

But, when finally winning over the trust of these dogs, there are few of any species who will show you more love, devotion and loyalty then the so-called, "vicious little Pomeranian" --or "nasty Chow Chow."

Ah, how first impressions and outward behaviors sometime deceive! -- PCA

For the "Undecided" (and Conflicted), Election Day Blues

The Presidential election is only 4 days away.

It seems from all the poles, that I will once again be voting for the losing side. -- I have been doing that since 2000.

Not that this election choice has been easy.-- It hasn't been easy at all.

I am a centrist democrat -- or, really an Independent now, as "moderate" in either party, seems an endangered species.

Following the (to me) hijacking of the 2000 election by George W. Bush and the Republicans, I swore I would never vote Republican again.

But, 8 years later and following what to me is probably the worse Presidency in our nation's history, I am doing just that.

Why?

Well, as said, this hasn't been an easy decision.

During this year's Democratic primaries, I questioned how any one could be "undecided" just days prior to an election primary. "Aren't these people paying attention?" I wondered.

But, since the defeat of Hillary Clinton (my then chosen candidate), I have in fact, waffled back and forth between things I liked and didn't like about Obama, as well as McCain.

Politically and on the issues, I am more with Barack Obama.

But, on character and history issues, I support McCain.

What's an "undecided" (or really, one in conflict) to do?

I admire the oratory of Barack Obama and find myself mostly agreeing with and being moved by his speeches.

I can't say the same about McCain.

But, I have to think McCain is a man of great will, devotion and strength of character.

I believe him when he says, "Country First" as McCain has the history to prove it.

How many soldiers, after all, come back from any war suffering from PTSD?

McCain spent 5 years in a Vietnam POW camp and refused to leave early even when he had the chance to.

How many others would not take advantage of political and family clout to "move ahead of the line" and leave a torturous situation?

That McCain was able to endure and return to the US after 5 years as a POW, pick up his life and go on to achieve both as a family man and US Senator is to be greatly admired and respected.

I don't like the way McCain, his wife, Cindy and his female running mate, Sarah Palin have been treated by the major media and left wing zealots in this country.

Most of the coverage has been downright unfair and at times, vicious.

After noting many of the egregious attacks against Hillary Clinton when she was running for President and even more scurrilous diatribes against Sarah Palin for VP, it would be amazing if any other woman would dare to run for high office again in this country any time soon.

So many rant about the "lack of experience and qualifications" of Sarah Palin to step into the role of President should the need arise.

But, what about the lack of experience and qualifications of Barack Obama who is actually running directly for President?

Why do these things not seem to matter for him?

I might feel differently had Obama had even one term in the US Senate under his belt (and some record of achievement) before running for President.

But, the "movement" that Obama is leading seems mostly to get him elected. He "inspires" others to go out and campaign for him.

I am not sure where Obama really wants to take this country.

It might be to political heaven or it might be to economic hell.

Barack Obama's "history" and past associations bother me.

I haven't been able to get past them and Barack Obama has failed to properly and honestly explain them.

I don't believe Obama when he claims he was "unaware" of his former preacher's radical, hateful views. Nor, do I believe Obama when he claims "unawareness" of radical associate, Bill Ayers' murderous, anarchist background.

If Obama lies about past friends and activities, why should we believe him on other matters?

I believe, finally that Obama if elected, will either be a great President or one of our very worst.

He is either a great leader or a great con man.

I believe, if elected, McCain will be a good President, but not necessarily a great one.

But, in a world facing so much peril and challenge, I would rather go for the merely "good" (and tried and true) than shoot for rainbows, only to find one is holding a hand full of empty air. -- PCA

Ruffles

Ah! Figured out how to put pictures on here! Yay!!!

Ruffles -- Read his story below. ;)

The Challenges of New Beginnings

A few days ago, I received an email from a woman working with the Yonkers shelter asking for help with a Chow Chow who had just arrived as a "owner surrender."

"Ruffles" (an odd name for a male dog) was given up because his owners are "moving to California."

"Moving" is in fact, one of the most common reasons cats and dogs are given up to shelters. It seems many people, when deciding what to bring with them when they change locations do not decide in favor of their pets. One cannot help but wonder why dropping pets off at shelters when one makes a move has become so acceptable in our culture?

In any case, Lila (from the shelter) informed me that "Ruffles" was a very "nice" dog, but he wasn't doing well in the shelter.

Though scheduled to be neutered this past Monday, staffers were unable to slip a leash over Ruffles and remove him from his indoor/outdoor run. The Chow was scared and backed off, each time evading the leash.

"Perhaps he's not used to be walked on a leash," I suggested to Lila. "You know there are many people who either keep dogs in yards and never walk them or simply open doors to let the dog come and go in a yard. Such dogs can be hard to leash because they're not used to it. Try approaching Ruffles sideways or with your back towards him. Go slowly and don't stare at him directly. When the dog is relaxed, then slip the leash over him."

Lila was appreciative of the suggestion and told me the shelter had a trainer coming in the next day. Hopefully, the woman would be able to get a leash on Ruffles and walk him.

"Can you call the former owner?" I asked. "If so, ask if Ruffles was an inside or outside dog. Ask if they regularly walked him or just let him out in the yard. Ask how the dog is with grooming, kids and other animals. Profiles are really important to get from former owners. This gives you a true picture of the dog and the environment he came out of. I suspect with his fear of the leash, Ruffles was rarely, if ever walked. Most dogs associate the leash with the postives of walks."

Yesterday, Lila called and told me she had indeed been able to contact Rufflel's former owner.

As speculated, Ruffles was not a dog who was regularly walked, but rather allowed to go inside and outside between home and yard. The owner added that Ruffle's was great around young children and other dogs. He had no guarding or aggressive issues, but was hard to groom due to being "too playful and jumpy." The dog had been given to the family as a "gift" when a small puppy.

Lila added that the trainer who had come to the shelter yesterday was able to remove Ruffles from his pen (per the way suggested) and walk him. But, since he's not used to being on a leash, Ruffles tends to zig zag and pull. He will need some work on leash walking.

Ruffles will be neutered in the next couple of days and then I have to figure out how we get him from the Yonkers shelter and where exactly he will go.

I suspect Ruffles would have a difficult time "adjusting" to a Manhattan apartment and all the stresses and noise of the city. I have already advertised him on Petfinders and hope to find a foster and/or adopter out of the city. S/he will have to be dog experienced and know how to deal with a dog who is not yet used to leash walks. While it is usually a pretty quick process to get dogs to respond positively to the leash (once they understand they are going for walk), walking calmly and in a straight line can take longer. -- this despite how quick and easy Cesar Millan ("The Dog Whisperer") makes it seem.

Ruffles is a beautiful red Chow who seems from his picture to be in top condition. (The owners, to their credit, at least took him to a groomer before leaving Ruffles at the shelter).

I sense, as Lila says, Ruffles is a "good dog." But, like most animals losing their homes and having to adjust to a whole new set of circumstances, the early going won't be easy.

Just like its not so easy trying to figure out how to put pictures on a new blog site. ;) -- PCA

*****

"Testing, one, two, three" as they say.......

I am in the process of trying to import my old blog from AOL to this one.

So far, it doesn't seem to be going too well.

The old posts are gone, I can't seem to upload pictures and one attempt to post a new entry also failed.

So, not to waste to much creative energy or time writing some profound thought that disappears into cyberspace, I am simply going to try to publish the inane and see if it shows up!

Here we go.......

3,2,1,,,,,,,,!!!

"The Lord Looks Out For......"

"The Lord looks out for Saints and Drunks."
I remember, as a kid, being told this by my Grandmother anytime I worried when my Mother went out for a night on the town.
But, during the years I have been in rescue, I have added a new one to those pearls of wisdom:
"The Lord Looks Out for Animal Rescuers."
I was, once again, in a low, anxious mood yesterday worrying over what I was going to do with "Donald," the sweet Ridgeback mix, living on borrowed time at the animal control shelter.
I had seemingly made a promise to take this dog, that I couldn't keep.
But, just when all options seemed to run out, a call came in yesterday, from a sweet young woman inquiring on a Ridgeback mix dog that had recently been adopted out.
"I believe Sienna has been spoken for. I posted her as a courtesy for someone else, but that was a while ago.  But, since you are interested in this type of dog, can I tell you about one at the pound that desperately needs to be saved?"
Usually when I tell people about specific animals that need to be rescued they tune out and give all kinds of excuses for why they can't foster, the most common one being, "I'm afraid I will fall in love with the animal."
"If you fall in love with the animal, you have first option to adopt, but you don't have to feel committed to that."
"That's OK, I will keep looking."
But, in this case, the young woman named, Kei, listened with interest and then told me she would have to discuss the possibility of fostering Donald with her boyfriend.
Although the young woman sounded very sincere and stable on the phone, I didn't want to get my hopes too high that I would hear back from her again.  But, within a half hour, Kei called to tell me she and her boyfriend could come and pick up Donald later in the evening.
"Glory, Hallelujah!  I thought to myself.
This was indeed, the miracle I needed and was hoping for!
And sure enough, Kei and her partner showed up a little after 7PM and we all drove up to AC&C to pick up Donald.
Kei is a very petite and attractive Asian girl who reminds me of the actress starring in "Memoirs of a Geisha" and her boyfriend, a nice, clean cut young man with blue eyes, brown hair  and a kind face.
Donald was subdued and seemed a little confused after spending more than two weeks at Animal Control.
It's a daunting and frightening experience for most animals who have to spend time in shelters.
Whatever the past homes, experiences or people in their lives, all are out the window when the animals come into the pounds.
I sometimes wonder what it would be like for a human to suddenly find him or herself in a strange place with nothing of one's former life or familiarity around?
One's whole life suddenly gone -- poof -- down the toilet!
Small wonder many animals "freak" when coming into shelters.  Cats cringing, silently in back of cages in attempt to "disappear" and dogs often frantically barking, "Where are my people?  When are they coming to get me?"
Donald wasn't like that in the cage at AC&C.
Rather, he was quiet, subdued and seemingly depressed.
But, as Kai, Glen and I left the shelter last night with Donald, he gently wagged his tail.
Perhaps something good might happen after all?
Donald went calmly into the back seat of the car and I slid in beside him, as Kai and Glen dropped me off at my home.  I stroked the top of the hound mix's head, saying, "It's OK now. You are going to be safe."
The dog gazed wistfully out the window as the car left the Harlem neighborhoods where Donald was apparently found and brought into the AC&C as a "stray."
I wondered if certain things and places in the neighborhood were familiar to him?
After the car left Harlem, Donald layed down on the car seat and peacefully, closed his eyes, all the stress of the past couple of weeks (or maybe months?) suddenly gone.
Kai and Glen finally dropped me off in front of my house.
"Please call me and let me know how it's going," I said to them when exiting the car.
"And thank you so much for coming to get Donald!  You are indeed good people!"
Later last night I had a long conversation with another animal rescuer who called me asking if I needed any medications for cats as her group just received a large donation of antibiotics.
"I sure do," I told Debbie Ramano of "SaveCats."
We then went on to talk about all the trials and tribulations of this work.
Debbie talked of her efforts to spay/neuter feral cats and the rescuing of cats and dogs from dangerous situations.
She doesn't "pull" from animal control because the work is so overwhelming and challenging in the Queens neighborhoods in which she lives.
"Well, all efforts are needed, " I reassured her. "If you weren' t rescuing and neutering these cats on the street, they would all be coming into Animal Control anyway. I spent my first six years in rescue, dealing with strays on the streets, primarily in Harlem."
And yes, I remember those early days of crawling into abandoned buildings, junk lots and alley ways, sometimes in the dead of night.
It all reminds me now of those wise words of my Irish Grandmother:
"The Lord looks out for Saints and Drunks."
To add now:
"And Animal Rescuers."
                                              **********

Of Warm and Searching Heart - Jezzie's Story

Of Warm and Searching Heart -- Jezzie's Tale

The ad on Petfinder.com read as follows:

"Jezebel is a very spirited, loving and enthusiastic red Chow Chow, despite being picked up as a Bronx "stray." We don't know whether she was actually a stray or someone's neglected junk yard or garage dog.  We also don't know her true age. While Jezzy is responsive, loving, and peppy with a "strong heart," the vet tells us she is an "older dog." But, we think Jezzy much younger than her bedraggled appearance would belie.  Jezzy could have gone down at the shelter like so many other neglected and cast away dogs. But, something about Jezzy told us she wanted to be saved. She stood in the front of her cage, demanding to be noticed. "Save me, save me! I need to get out of here! " she seemed to say. This dog wants to live.  Chows are very devoted to their people and we are sure Jezzie will be the same to you if you if you are kind enough to adopt her." 

But, nobody called about Jezzy. The warmth and love showing through her eyes in the pictures of a bedraggled dog on the internet apparently reached no one. Was I the only one to see it?

I remember the first time I saw Jezebel.

She was in a back ward at AC&C. There was no name on her card as she had been picked up in the Bronx by one of the AC&C Rescue Drivers. I named the scruffy dog, "Jezebel" (after the famous Bette Davis character) because of her deep red, passionate color. 

Jezzy awaited her "stray hold" to be up, after which, she was scheduled to be euthanized. Her status was a "5T" (for "severe temperament") with a notation on her cage card that she tried to bite the catch pole used to drag her into the shelter.

There was also blood in the cage as Jezzie seemed to be bleeding from her mouth. Perhaps she had suffered some injury?

Jezzy stood in the front of her cage barking frantically. Everything in her message was, "I need to get out of here!"   Shelter handlers were afraid of her. But, there was something in Jezzy's soft eyes that told me there was nothing to fear.

I begged AC&C staffers to let me take this dog. But, first we needed to get her out of the cage in order to evaluate and hopefully change Jezzie's "5T" status. This could not be done immediately. One of the more experienced handlers would have to deal with her. A memo was put on Jezzie for me with reluctance.

"Are you sure you want to take this dog?" I was asked, repeatedly by several staffers.  "She's not nice and may be sick."

Nevertheless, I insisted. I was able to pet Jezzie through the cage. "I will take her to my vet." I told staffers. "I am sure she will be fine once she is out of here."

Some days later, I was allowed to take Jezzie. One of the handlers and I were able to carefully take her from the cage and walk her. Once out of the cage, Jezzie wagged her tail in delight and relief. She was going to be a good dog, I could tell!

My assistant, Dave Ambrosio waited in his car to help me take Jezebel to our vet. Jezzie sat in the back seat quietly looking out the window as we sped to "Dr. G."

Jezzie was caked with filth, mud and feces. Her once beautiful coat was a mess of tangles and dirt. She smelled horribly. We had to open the windows in the car despite the near freezing temperatures outside.

"Oh my," said Dr. G when we walked into his office with the grungy, smelly, skinny stray dog. "This is the worst you have ever brought me."

Dr. G checked Jezzie's mouth, heart and vitals. Her teeth were very bad with several infected teeth. He theorized that a severe mouth infection caused the bleeding in her mouth, along with a sinus infection.

"At least three of her teeth should be pulled," Dr. G pronounced. "We can put her on antibiotics for the infections. She also has an inverted eyelid which causes pain. That will require surgery to fix it. But, we will have to work on that later. For now to get the mats shaved off and deal with the teeth and mouth."

"The good news," Dr. G. added, "is that she has a strong heart."

I agreed to the treatments and left Jezzie with Dr. G.

"I hope my landlord doesn't complain about the smell," he joked.

The next day, I picked up Jezzie, now somewhat cleaned up, but funny looking. She was still fluffy in the front, but her entire backside, legs and tail had to be shaved. She looked like an bizarre combination of Red Chow and Poodle.

Since I had no foster home for Jezzie, I brought her to Run Spot Run, a dog boarding facility on the Upper East Side. I took some pictures of her and bought some canned dog food for her. I imagined after having three teeth pulled, it would be difficult for Jezzie to eat hard food.

Later that night, I wrote the ad for Petfinders and put up her pictures.

Over the next few weeks, I went each day to walk Jezzie, along with the three other dogs we had in boarding. Jezzie seemed to be doing well -- except for the occasional, heavy sneezes, sometimes spraying small droplets of blood. I hoped the antibiotics would take care of the sinus infection.

On her walks, Jezzie was enthusiastic and always took the lead. She seemed forever "on a mission." Always trying desperately to get back to where she once was and once belonged. She looked at every person on the street, trying to find in one face, the one of familiarity and devotion.

But, it was never to be.

Unlike the other dogs, I had to coax Jezzie back to the boarding facility. She would frantically try to pull away, as if desperate that she had not completed her mission! She had not found her home. Had not found her person. I always had the feeling that if I let the leash go, Jezzie would run for however long or far it took, to find her way home again.

No matter how bad or how neglectful the former owner(s), it did not matter. Jezzie still loved and still wanted to return. I petted her, hugged her and offered her treats. But, always her gaze fell yonder.......The soft, yearning eyes, searching far beyond my face.

"Beware, the Ides of March" a character in a Shakespeare play says to Caesar.

So, it was in the early days of March, I noticed, what seemed to be a swelling near the top of Jezzie's muzzel, giving her face the appearance of slight distortion. The sinus infection did not seem to be getting better. Yet, Jezzie was eating well and gaining weight. Her personality was chipper and determined. She was still the dog with a mission!

I too, was determined to find a home for this wonderful, devoted dog. If not, an adoptive home, then a foster.

One day, a woman contacted me seeking a nice older dog who could do well in an apartment while she and her husband were at work. "I have the perfect dog for you," I told her. "Can you foster Jezzie while we work on her medical needs?"

Jenny and her husband arranged to meet me at Run Spot Run on the evening of March 5th to meet Jezebel with the intent of fostering her.

But, when I went to walk Jezzie earlier in the evening, I noticed that the swelling on her muzzle seemed much worse and additionally, she was sneezing a large amount of blood.

I immediately rushed Jezebel to Dr. G.

Dr. G. was very concerned when seeing Jezzie. "I will need to do an aspiration of the lump and run some tests. Leave her overnight." "This doesn't look good," Dr. G cautiously warned me.

Seemingly, not hearing his words, I hugged Jezebel close to me.

"Its gonna be all right, Jez, don't worry! There are wonderful people who want you! There is finally light at the end of the tunnel!"

I then returned to Run Spot Run to meet the lovely young couple who had come to take Jezzie home. With apology and embarrassment, I told them, "We have a slight setback."

The next day, around 5PM, Dr. G. called me.

"I have very bad news for you," he told me, somberly.

The "swelling" was not swelling at all, but rather an aggressive malignant tumor that was eating away the bone on Jezzie's muzzle. Dr. G had also done X-Rays which showed a tumor already growing in her lungs.
I couldn't believe the news.

"But, she gained weight!" I said. "But, she was peppy and always walked briskly and led on the leash!" "She ran up the stairs!" "But, but, but.....I could find a hundred "buts" and yet no explanation for the brutal and cruel irony which was confronting and opposing all of it. Knocking, tearing down hope.

"I know, " Dr. G said sadly. "She looks good, but this is something that is not going to go away. It is not treatable."

In the end, I had no choice but to voice the inevitable words. The words which, though, so painful to say, would somehow send Jezzy back to the only home she seemed to have known and sought. The one I could never provide or find for her again.

It was time to let go of the leash and set Jezzy free.

One of the basic tenets of rescue, is that "You cannot save them all."  But, those of us in this work never truly believe that for those we have chosen to save. The ones who "speak to us," the ones we fight to save.

But, though Jezzy spoke to me in her desperation to get out of the shelter, it was not for me to find what she really wanted. There was only one home for Jezzy and one way or the other she would find it again. It was her sole mission.

I hope I was able to give Jezzie some small comforts in her last days. Some good meals, some care, some hugs. But, in the end, I was not the face she sought. The one she wanted so desperately to get back to

Sometimes, in the end, we have to admit, we are not God.

In the arms of an angel, I hope Jezzie finds....
                                                       


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