Khaleesi's dragons

Ok, so we're diehard Game of Thrones watchers. For a little back story, the tortie....far right...is Witch's Toe. Two years ago, five kittens were orphaned by some loser who ran over their mom. The kittens were only a little over three weeks old. In between hard to place foster dogs, I took in the little family.

They had their own house, separate from the main house which holds the actual cat sanctuary. This way, the five could be quarantined and weaned on kitten replacement milk mixed with raw diet.

The only issue the kittens had was flea infestation which was safely cured with edible diatomaceous earth. They truly are the healthiest specimens of life this old rescuer has ever seen. After a month, they combined forces with the elder statesmen and women in the habitat. I couldn't give any of them up, so here they stayed.

Whatever issues the older cats had seemed to mellow out with the advent of these kittens. They rescued us. I was going through a horrible experience in rescue at the time, so these kittens really did save my life. I sent their photos to Clare, the window to the feline alliance. Amazingly, the tortie connected with Clare, telling her, "I've got the witch's toe! I've got the witch's toe!" To date, neither Clare nor myself has the slightest inkling what the definition for 'witch's toe' actually is.

Over the past couple of years, though, her powers of 'toe' have revealed the nature of a very tricky little sorceress. The other night, for instance, she was kicking on the backrest of their recliner when I was about to walk out of the room.  Before I knew it, she reached out and nailed me right in the elbow. It felt like I'd been struck by hot lightening.

She, and the other four, are not mean cats. They are a rowdy lot, very inquisitive, but like Khaleesi's own  dragon children, affairs of the heart. Imagine being gifted with five little cheribs to care for like I have with the kittens. I make certain they are healthy, well fed, nurtured and that no harmful pharmaceuticals will ever come near them. In the state I live in, that's more difficult than busting Khaleesi's dragons out of the city of Qarth. Really.

Witch's Toe, we really call her that is the divine princess. Her sister, Spook, is all black and named for one of my favorite Top Cat characters. Marshmellow was thought to be a girl and called Darcy until we discovered she was indeed a boy when the vet went to fix him. Freddy is a brown tabby with spots just like Marshmellow and the bothersome little brother. Every family has one. Douglas is colored blue and white much like a blue nose pit bull with the attitude to match. He can be a grumple-stiltskin.

On days when I get a bit too stressed from the woes of rescue work, I go into the cat room and feel the love. These sad days when there are so many animals in the overcrowded shelters and not enough homes, I know this one family will never feel pain or anything bad. They will only know the good things life has to offer. These little dragons are safe.

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Daisy dies in Austin, Texas

Daisy was a beautiful coonhound mix at the Austin Animal Center. Thought to be around four, Daisy was offered up to three different adopters and taken back to the shelter three times. Rather than ask what are we doing wrong with this dog and look at her as an individual with individual needs, the shelter killed her.

For a week, we have been networking Daisy. I've written two articles about her and crossposted until my finger were numb. She never even had a decent photo taken at the shelter, so the same one has been used in both articles and again in this blog.

Today, Daisy is dead. 'Humanely euthanized' was the term sent out by the rescue coordinator who turned down the only rescue offer for Daisy. No reason was given, but several others have stepped forward with similar experiences at the Austin Animal Center, formerly Town Lake Animal Shelter.

"I called the reference you provided me and told me to contact - that was Paul O Neill with Midland Animal Control.
Based on that conversation, AAC cannot send any animals to your facility."

We telephoned Mr. O'Neill at Midland Animal Control to investigate the reasoning behind Austin Animal Center's decision to not adopt Daisy to Bully Beds of Midland. He simply replied he didn't want them adopting any animals other than 'his'. He then slammed down the phone. Nice guy.

This is wrong on several levels. Primarily, 501(c)(3) non profits are federal entities and speaking as the director of Reunion Rescue, not obligated to operate in a specific region. Unless Mr. O'Neill is serving on the board of directors at Bully Beds, his demands are meaningless. Except for one important item...Daisy is dead thanks to Paul O'Neill and the rescue coordinator at Austin Animal Center.

The shelter has been in the news recently in regards to their attempted no-kill efforts and inability to attain no-kill status. The same rescue coordinator has issued several notices about overcrowding and the shelter being 20 to 30 cages short with euthanasia as the only option. The shelter recently sent a truckload of animals to the notorious Houston SPCA which had to be intercepted and turned around by animal lovers familiar with the Houston SPCA's history of killing tens of thousands of innocent animals.

This shelter is willing to send a cargo of innocent animals to almost certain death, but would rather kill Daisy than allow a loving and capable rescue group save her. Several rescues and citizens have offered similar stories in which animals were killed at the Austin Animal Center for various reasons. One underlying theme seems to dominate each of the stories. Each of these bad experiences was reflective of the shelter's paid staff and rescue coordinator behaving as if the animals were their personal property.

One local offered that the rescue coordinator is 'very careful about approving new rescue partners.' Careful is one thing, but using one's position as a headquarters to dole out living animals to personal preference goes beyond the pay grade.

An internet site provides a keen look at the control freak.

It's difficult for you to trust people.

You make lists for everything in your life.

As much as possible, you need to do everything yourself.

When it comes to social gatherings, you prefer to do the planning. 

You rarely think that you're wrong.

These are just a few of the boxes which can be ticked. When animals are dying, because the city has hired a control freak to decide just which rescue groups can join the club, we got a problem...right here in River City.

Daisy was killed not because she was un-adoptable, but because the people in charge at Austin Animal Center refuse to ask for help when making erroneous judgements. They were willing to place Daisy three times in the wrong environment, but due to a personality glitch, would not allow a solid rescue to prepare Daisy for the proper home. That is what rescues do.

If Town Lake or Austin Animal Center does not begin to change, dogs and cats will continue to die. There simply are not enough rescue groups to fit their preferential mold.

We, the taxpayers, are funding individuals to carry out their own personal agendas rather than do their jobs...running a shelter which is attempting to become no-kill.  It takes a village to become no-kill, not just one person running their own show.

We are sick of saying, 'rest in peace,' for dead dogs like Daisy. It's time to wake up and stop the senseless killing.

As this last word was being typed, an urgent email from Town Lake shelter arrived. "AAC is in a space crunch for large AND small dogs today, many small dogs stayed.   If you can come down NOW and empty a kennel, the pups will be so grateful and so will your animal shelter!

AAC is open 11-7 every day and remember there is never a fee for the fabulous AAC rescue partners!"

How many of these animals will die due to personal preferences and popularity contests?

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Girl is still living large

Sometimes the world gets spinning too fast and we forget how to stop and enjoy what is important. With all of the emails and calls daily about animals in distress, it's easy to get caught up in the high drama of life and death.

About a month ago, Girl, our 14 year old pittie who came from San Francisco ACC death row and started Reunion Rescue as we know it, got very sick. Her right eye began to bulge from the socket and several other things seemed to happen all at once. Girl's legs gave out and she began to urinate in the house.

All of this occurred over Memorial Day weekend and the option was the emergency room. To a longtime rescue and home who feeds raw and treats homeopathically, emergency care was not a good idea. Over the years, we've resorted to emergency room care and have lived to regret it every single time.

Instead, an emergency call was placed to Girl's homeopathic vet and a call left at the veterinary opthamologist we trust. Unfortunately, we reside in Austin, Texas...home to the biggest vet scam in the country. More on that in a bit.

Luckily, for Girl, Dr. Falconer returned our call immediately. He suggested a remedy which turned out to be perfect for her constitution. The immobility and incontinence stopped immediately. I'd been giving her pain pills and she no longer needed them. The opthamologist, Dr. Shifrin, fit her in that Tuesday and prescribed some eye drops.

Talking to several neighbors and acquaintances over the past few weeks, I'm amazed at the local vets who suggested 'humane euthanasia' for the same sorts of symptoms experienced by Girl. I am apalled that this sort of practice not only goes on, but that people actually allow these vets to put their dogs and cats to sleep based on a routine office visit opinion.

If I've heard it once, I've heard it a thousand times coming from sorrowful owners being told by their vet, 'well, he lived a good life to be 11 or so years old.' What? 11 is not a good long life. This is coming from the mouth of someone who injects your pet with horrible elements like mercury, toxic poisons, formaldehyde, rabies and God knows what else in these yearly vaccinations. If your pet is five seconds late, they send you a helpful reminder that your pet is overdue for yearly vaccines, lyme disease injections, toxic flea medications, poisonous parasite preventatives and so on.

No wonder our pets are being euthanized at 11! I'm amazed they made it that long, especially when they're fed the nasty Science Diet products conveniently sold in the vet office. By the way, vet schools are underwritten by Hills, the company who makes the pet food and also own the largest rendering plant in the United States where shelter killed pets are ground up and made into pet food. How convenient. Does the word 'racket' start to sound sickeningly familiar?

During the time Girl was experiencing her issues, Martha, one of our sanctuary cats began to fail. Martha is 14 and has always suffered from ear and eye issues. According to conventional vets, she's had everything from herpes virus to yeast infection to corn allergy. Her biggest problem was over-vaccination before she came to us.

A large tumor like growth appeared on the side of her face. While dealing with Girl, I mistakenly decided to go 'conventional' and take Martha to the first vet she'd seen when she was at the PetSmart rescue, Barton Creek Animal Clinic.

$600 later and three weeks of harmful antibiotics later, the vet suggested Martha undergo a complete ear canal removal operation or also known in their industry as TECA, total ear canal ablation. I began to call around Austin and was quickly reminded of the racket going on in this town. You're talking to a person who started rescuing in San Francisco and the bay area has nothing on Austin. I was amazed at the prices. At least in SF, you can find a vet who is rescue friendly and wants to help animals. That ain't happening here...not by a long shot.

Cut to Heart of Texas in Round Rock. I got through to a very nice sounding vet who offered to help. He went on to say how many animals he saves at both Austin Pets Alive and Williamson Animal Shelter. That Monday, I cleared my calendar and drove Martha to see team member Sunil Vansanjee at Heart of Texas Veterinary Specialty Center in Round Rock. He'd quoted us $2K for the operation and would offer us a substantial rescue discount.

After what took the better part of four hours, he had his assistant present us an estimate over 4 thousand dollars. What? How am I going to raise that kind of money? It is virtually impossible. Had I been told the truth, I would never have wasted his time or mine and certainly not put Martha through the stress of a four hour drive and vet prod.

I could have spent that four hours writing a couple of articles for the Examiner to help other animals in distress with the wasted time spent at this vet. I couldn't help but think of all of the poor slobs like me who'd fallen into the clutches of these greedy vets. How many animals are dumped at shelters to die because some money hungry vet issues a bloated appraisal for their pet's care?

Opting to cry later, I knew what I must do. I realized I'd erred by trying to go conventional. I put in a call to Dr. Falconer fully knowing he would have so much to undo. He was lovely as usual. If anyone out there has ever spoken to their vet or even family doctor in holistic terms and experienced the eyes glazing over, you'll know what I'm talking about. It was so wonderful to speak to Dr. F and talk about Martha's ears and eyes and whole body being connected.

The issue in her inner ear whether it be polyps or a tumor; the eyes whether herpes virus or a flare up in conjunction with all her other maladies, her coat, her temperament, her general well or ill being all were treated with care and interest by Dr. Falconer. I could finally relate Martha's issues to someone who actually acted and thought like a doctor! I'd found intelligent life in the universe. Oboy!

After hearing all of Martha's issues, symptoms, likes, dislikes, past and present, I could almost feel the light bulb go bright when Dr. F decided what remedy to use. I cannot express how wonderful that feels to an animal lover. The illumination one experiences when dealing with the science of homeopathy is earth shaking and astounding.

When Dr. F described what the remedy would do and what to look for, I had some hope and some trust for the first time in a long time. Isn't that what doctors are supposed to do, heal? I had been so disappointed and let down. Nothing is more sad than not being able to care for those who've been placed in your care.

My philosophy is that we are granted God's greatest treasure to care-take. Anyone who's ever cracked open the bible reads the story of creation and how mammals and fish and fowl were all formed and then, man, to care for them. Whether anyone believes in God or not, it's an amazing story and one that I hold near.

Today, I feel kind of blessed. At least two who've been placed into my care are having good days today. Girl might not live forever, but she is pain free and enjoying being alive. Martha hasn't even started her remedy yet, but she already seems to know it's on it's way. She got up this morning and went outside to the enclosure to lay in the sunshine with the other kitties...something she has not done in a long, long time.

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What is your secret Houston SPCA?

From one rescuer to another, please let me know how you do it.

Please let me know how you can kill every single pit bull like the innocent girl last Saturday?  How can you look at yourselves in the mirror?

Some of us in rescue have a hard time sleeping when the images of the ones we can’t save haunt our dreams.

This one pit bull’s image has burned in my head all week long since your organization opened your big expensive doors to her.

We all know she’s dead. That is the horror. It’s like the parent whose child disappears, who spends years searching and crying for their loss.

Dogs like this are our children.

There will be no closure on this girl as the Houston SPCA is rather above the law. They seem to be able to legally confiscate and kill Houston's stray animals at will  and never have to disclose records or numbers to anyone. Everyone is in the dark except the director, Patti Mercer. She runs the show. You might even say she runs the town.

Let me tell you a little bit about us. We are all somewhat normal people, most of whom work and try to save a dog or cat as we can.

We don’t have big expense accounts or funding and the blessings of Houston high society. We don’t have a big half empty facility to house and care for the animals we deem worthy like Betsy the bear. Remember her? You spent nine years working to find her a safe place to go, a worthy cause for a group with SPCA in their title. All the while, you were killing truckloads of pit bulls in the backroom. No cake for them or a stand up routine by Herr Mercer.

No, those unwanted, uncared for, nameless thousands upon thousands are routinely and how do you word it, humanely euthanized?

Again, how do you humane souls sleep at night? How to you put on your lipstick and look at yourself in the morning before you go to work to earn your  $200K a year plus perks?

I realize you have your rough days. Much like the HSPCA rescue coordinator who hung up on the rescue group calling in to try and save this one pit bull during the 72-hour stray period. It’s hard. We get it.

It’s a bit much to try and conceive killing all those pit bulls, but sometimes that one gets to you. At least, that’s how it is with me. That one got to me.

By the way. That face of hers, all scratched up? You probably don’t know this since the pit bulls you deal with are all dead, but those are fence abrasions. That’s most likely why the rest of her body is pristine. You killed her for being someone’s backyard dog, a dog who wandered up to the wrong citizen’s house to get a drink of water.

That good citizen offered her a dirty Tupperware bowl of tap water and turned her over to the Houston SPCA. He might not even know they kill all dogs they think look pittie. He’s got a life to lead and this girl got in his way. That’s what animals do, right, get in the way.

I used to visit Houston as a girl growing up in Beaumont. I felt like I’d died and gone to Heaven. The buildings were all shiny and tall. Everything seemed rich and beautiful, like the socialites who donate 10 million dollars a year to the Houston SPCA.

You know what, Houston? You don’t look so beautiful to me anymore. I have to remind myself of the good Houstonians who drop everything and put the pedal to the metal when they hear a report of a stray dog. At first, I was in awe of the Houston rescue community working together to save lives. I”ve come to realize they are absolutely terrified of the Houston SPCA picking up these dogs whose fates will match that of the girl from last Saturday.

I am just one person and certainly not a match for the powers that keep the Houston SPCA machine oiled up and running, but I have a voice. I have a photograph and I have a memory. I can’t do anything about the thousands and thousands of dogs being killed at the Houston SPCA, but I will not forget this one. That's a promise.

https://www.facebook.com/nonamepittie

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First new year blog

Well, it's been a rough last year and a rough this year. First, Rebel died in September. Then we lost Cubby on Thanksgiving day suddenly. My mother passed away on New Year's Day. I've basically just shut down. I deal with death on a daily basis, but this is ridiculous.

Little things help me get from moment to moment. I heard Bonnie Raitt's "Right Down the Line" which brought up all kinds of memories. I remembered the old song from the 70's and then remembered hearing about Gerry Rafferty's passing, the song's writer.

Hearing the song on top forty stations in the 70's became a part of my own fabric. To  hear it now done by Bonnie Raitt really fuses the times and music, setting off all kinds of feelings and emotions. I have to suspect that was totally intentional.

I also heard something about this being released on Raitt's own label Redwing Records. She commented on being able to hold the notes as long as she desired now that she was playing for her own label and could make her own musical decisions. Huh! Well, now, how does that respond to pit bulls?

Well, when you hear about someone like Bonnie Raitt who's knocked down all kinds of barriers in the music industry not being able to play a note like she felt it, something resonates. Somebody who rescues pit bulls faces some of life's hurdles along the way. It's hard to not become jaded and calloused, to start hating people for being fearful.

Then a song comes on the radio. That song played during your girlhood when all the world seemed like an adventure, new, boundless. Then life happens and you wind up experiencing reality like divorces, the IRS, death. You hear about Gerry Rafferty who wrote "Right Down the Line" and so many other songs. You hear about his own struggles and sadness. You hear Bonnie Raitt isn't allowed to play her guitar the way she used it to blast down convention and rules. You hear her version and it gives you the verve and the nerve to get up, dust yourself off and get back to work.....right down the line....

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Talk About the Passion

Empty prayer empty mouths talk about the passion
Not everyone can carry the weight of the world

I am grateful today to have the passion I was gifted with. I cannot imagine being able to survive in this world without that great gift.

Yesterday, my mom died. When you lose your mother, it's a huge thing. We might not have always agreed on everything, but I was able to come to terms with her in her last days. Who gave me that? Why, the pit bulls, of course.

Every day, I live in an arena of death. I am mired in and surrounded by photographs, pleas and stories of dogs dying on death row across the country and beyond. Were it not for the passion I've been given to try and help one or several, I would have floundered and dematerialized long ago.

The pit bulls keep me alive. I can't quit. I wrote in my book being in rescue is much like the mafia. You cannot quit.

I can write that one article about that one dog. Who knows who might see that piece and know someone who can help? It's the most concrete evidence that we are all part of a greater good, a life force at work even in the most dire of circumstances.

The reward? The passion itself. The knowing that you are doing what you were placed upon this earth to do. No more, no less.

Doubt? Look into the eyes of that dog...the one in the photograph, the one by your side. The eyes never lie.

When I listen to these so called rescue groups talk about the passion...spending money to travel and pay themselves to 'educate', I am sickened. I can listen to R.E.M.'s words...'empty prayer, empty mouths, talk about the passion' and get it.

You with your empty mouths, your lies..how can you turn your backs on those dogs dying today? That is my question for you. You are the shame of this nation and someday there will be an open-eyed reckoning for you to face.

Passion to me is going on, carrying on the weight of the world in all its mundane acts. Raising money to board the dogs, completing tons of IRS forms for taxes, tending to the details surrounding my mother's death, doing all the things I don't want to do, but must.

That song, originally written about hunger became, for me at least, is about something far greater than mere hunger for food.

I must feel pity for those who can turn away from their calling. They are empty unrealized shells and must be kicked aside to clear the pathway.

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Oh, Dambala

Some days, hopelessly, I sit at this computer trying to do a little bit to help animals. The hardest part is remaining productive in the midst of the huge atrocities I encounter on a daily, no a momentary basis.

How can anyone hurt animals? In any way? This commentary is not just about the animal abusers, but for those people who use innocent animals in any way other than as they were placed on this earth.

Each day, I see scared, hurt animals cowering in the corners of filthy shelters. Most end up being euthanized. There simply are not enough rescue groups saving animals to provide for all of these mistreated creatures.

When I listen to Nina Simone sing Dambala, I feel a connection. This song was written as a cry about the horrors of slavery, but I hear the moaning of all who're mistreated in its verse.

I would imagine the musician Exuma who wrote this intense piece carried the same fierce anger I feel. I am amazed at the comfort I get from hearing these words. When listening to Nina Simone sing Dambala, another layer projects itself and the power of that is both terrifying and empowering.

When I hear these words, I feel strength to carry on with my own meager work. I can go on, one small step at a time to try and help these suffering ones.

Call this a voodoo curse, a hex, a poem, a lament, a dirge for all those who mistreat animals.
Whether it be someone who takes his senior pet to a high kill facility to be put to sleep by a stranger, a dog fighter who makes money in the most sinful manner,
any rescue group who misappropriates much needed donations for self gain while animals die,
to you, canned hunters who pilfer lives that wander on your ugly Texas ranches....
this song is dedicated to you.

These words might not be heard by you today, but someday there will be a reckoning as...

"You slavers will know what itsLike to be a slaveSlave to your mindSlave to your raceYou won't go to heavenYou won't go to hellYou remain in your gravesWith the stench and the smell"

Oh dambala come dambala 
Oh dambala come dambala 
Think of the wings of a three toed frog 
Eat weeds from the deepest part of sea 

Oh dambala come dambala 
Oh dambala come dambala

On the seventh day God will be there 
On the seventh night satan will be there 
On the seventh day God will be there
On the seventh night satan will be there

You slavers will know 
What it's like to be a slave 
Slave to your heartSlave to your soul 

Oh dambala come dambala 
Oh dambala come dambala

You slavers will know what its 
Like to be a slave
Slave to your mind 
Slave to your race 

You won't go to heaven 
You won't go to hell
You remain in your graves 
With the stench and the smell 

Oh dambala come dambala 
Oh dambala come dambala

Read more: NINA SIMONE - DAMBALA LYRICS http://www.metrolyrics.com/dambala-lyrics-nina-simone.html#ixzz1i7ZMj5Ee
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