Pawsitively Purrfect

Pawsitively

Purrfect August 2009

Pawsitively Purrfect

n a d g F n i i n w o

by Judie Schaal

Fol l

g din

It’s August. It’s hot and humid. The breeze brings nothing refreshing as it brushes past my cheek. I look down at our adopted stray cat curled up on the back porch chair. I ask, “How do you stand this heat?” as I tickle a favorite spot under her chin. She acknowledges my presence with one eye cracked open and a stretch of her body that I wish my old body could duplicate. She refuses to tell me why she doesn’t pant like a dog leaving drips and drops of saliva behind her. She doesn’t wag her tail or jump on me with muddy paws. She just purrs. I lean down to put my ear next to her soft throat. I love her purr. It is a tune that warms my heart even on this sultry August morning.

I wish I could slip beneath your furry coat, little cat. Travel on your nimble paws to places unknown; amble through the undergrowth and have the pachysandra and Mexican heather gently kiss my whiskers; feel the dew as it clings to my paws and washes the dust from my eyes.

Would I see the world from a different perspective? Peering from beneath a pastel azalea which has lost its blooms, would I realize life’s beauty is temporary, and I must value every moment?

I watch your tail, little one. It flicks back and forth as an indication of your single-minded concentration. Could I tuck my feet beneath me as you do and learn to block out distractions? Could I see more clearly goals to achieve and know that with accomplishments my self-image would grow? And, as you love to perch upon a window sill and quietly absorb your world, I wonder if I could do that. Could I replace my busy world for one of contemplation? Ignore the phone, the emails, the text messages and attend to my own internal clock?

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Would it purr instead of going tick, tick, tick?

Could I lose the trappings of my everyday life as you have lost the “break-away” collar that surrounded your neck? Your jewels are gone, residing somewhere beneath a bush, the collar caught as you passed by. How can I lose my jewels – the choker that restrains me from being free, the watch that encircles my wrist and keeps me walking on the treadmill?

Could I jump off as you jump down from your perch and scurry up a tree?

Wait for me little feline. I’m right behind you. Shall we ascend to the highest branches? Shall we howl to the moon and cry to the night winds that we are free?

From this dark perch, I can’t see as well as you, your luminous eyes surveying all that is below. I can’t hear as well as you, your ears picking up the sounds of owls hooting in the distance. But I am learning, it is not how far we see or how well we hear, but what we do with the sights and sounds that invade our senses. Are we gentle with those around us who speak words of opposition or do we use cat-like claws to respond in animalistic fashion?

Come down from those limbs, little one. Let me thank you for helping me plant my feet more firmly on the ground. My world is different from yours. But, like you, I must mark my territory and understand the world I know to be true. From your example I will travel more freely, value beauty more openly, use my time more wisely and love those around me without restraint.

Come inside with me, little cat, away from this hot August morning, and know that you are the angel I wish to follow.

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Pawsitively Purrfect

Southern Snaps Saving Starfish

by Leslie C. Moore

Almost everything you do will seem insignificant, but it is important that you do it. – Mahatma Gandhi

Labs,” said Suzanne, as we sat on the couch of her comfortable home in the hisThere’s a popular story that tells of a woman walking along the toric district of beach and throwing stranded starfish back into the water. When asked Georgetown that she why she was doing this when it was impossible to save the thousands of shares with six dogs starfish washed up on the beach, the rescuer replied that was certainly very and four cats. “I important to the ones she saved! This is the mindset of the thousands of got my first Lab in volunteers that work in animal rescue. It is an overwhelming problem. The 1992 after carefulpopulation of our four-legged friends is increasing dramatically, and the ly researching all statistics are grim concerning the number of unwanted animals in shelters the different breeds and rescue organizations. Some estimates say that nearly 10 million pets – only to learn that are euthanized each year in the United States, and our area is no exception. Labrador Retrievers But, the good news is that many are saved and moved to loving forever were the most popular homes through the efforts of caring animal rescue volunteers. In our com- breed in the country!” munity, devoted animal lovers give unselfishly of their time and resources Suzanne soon realto save abandoned, abused and unwanted cats and dogs of every breed. ized that she had a knack for In Georgetown, Suzanne Fox, like most people who volunteer dog training, and this led her to with animal rescue, never intended to be the founder of Wild Heir become proficient in training hunting companions, as well as field trial and Labrador Rescue. It happened gradually – one unwanted dog at a time. hunt test competitors. Labs became her life and most weekends were spent “I morphed into rescue from training, breeding and hunting travelling to trainers and trials to learn more about the retriever game. She became an expert in bloodlines and even bred her own dogs.

Gradually, Suzanne started noticing that many breeders would have puppies left that they could not sell. “No one wants to buy a puppy that’s more than about 10 or 12 weeks old, so I would take them, train them and place them into adoptive homes. Then I started looking at shelters. Petfinder.com was in its infancy and most rural shelters had no computer, much less Internet access. When I started visiting these shelters, I found too many purebred dogs that had been abandoned by their owners.”

This was a huge epiphany for Suzanne. She left the life she had made training and hunting Labrador Retrievers and began rescuing them instead. At one point she had 25 dogs living in her home and kennels. The passion and focus that Suzanne had poured into working with these remarkable, intelligent dogs was now turned to saving the ones no one wanted. It nearly consumed her.

Because Labrador Retrievers are such popular dogs, there are many who are adopted by people who do not realize that these active, good-natured dogs need lots of exercise, human companionship and a good grasp of basic obedience. Unfortunately for the dogs, many are abandoned, neglected, left at shelters or abused. The numbers are overwhelming, and Suzanne was trying to save them all.

“I was neglecting my business (Renaissance Signworks), my family and personal relationships. It just seemed more important to save a life than to do anything else. I spent all of my time outside of work caring for these Labs; some lived outside in dog runs and kennels, some

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Pet guide were housedogs, and all had to be exercised, fed and loved every day.”

Finally, just when Suzanne was nearly burned out and ready to quit, a few other devoted Lab lovers stepped up to the plate. Today, Wild Heir Labrador Rescue is a 501(c)(3) nonprofit with over 150 volunteers that handle fundraising events, provide foster homes and work to educate the public about responsible pet care and the importance of spay/neuter.

This no-kill rescue placed 225 Labs and Lab mixes into forever homes in 2008, and has already placed more than 100 this year. Many shelters euthanize incoming animals after just a few days, and Wild Heir takes many dogs from these types of facilities. They also take case-by-case owner surrenders and even have a special program for senior dogs called Daisy’s Place. One of Suzanne’s foster dogs, Gina, a sweet, playful, Heinz 57 mixed breed, who was supposed to have been a chocolate Lab, has been with her for several years awaiting her forever home. She will be loved and cared for indefinitely.

Suzanne, who now serves on the board of directors of Wild Heir and fosters two lab mixes, is passionate about the importance of animal rescue. “Anyone who loves animals needs to be aware of rescue.”

Contact Wild Heir Labrador Rescue by visiting www.wildheirlabradorrescue.org , or call 843- 240-0174.

Bernadette Kahl retired to the Grand Strand from Maryland and immediately began looking for ways to help make her new home a better place. With a life-long history of volunteerism, Bernadette soon became involved as a reader in her church, the queen mother of a local red hat group and this caring volunteer finds time to give three days a week to SavR-Cats, a local, non profit, 501(c)(3) rescue organization devoted to protecting and defending cats’ rights along the Grand Strand.

I visited Bernadette at the Sav-R-Cats office in Myrtle Beach which is home not only to files and paperwork, but to four cats rescued from the recent wildfires in our area. “Someone left seven cats in a large dog carrier outside our door with a note saying they had rescued them from the fires,” Bernadette said, showing us the carrier. “We’ve found homes for three of them, but we’re still looking for loving people to adopt the other four. One of the females was pregnant, but due to the stress of her situation, none of the kittens survived.”

Sav-R-Cats has an adoption center in Surfside Beach, but it is currently filled to capacity. While we were in the office, volunteers came in and out, all telling us how a love of cats led them to try to help this organization.

Bernadette showed us a list with dozens of phone calls from people who, for a variety of reasons, could not keep their pets.

With tears in her eyes Bernadette said, “We have to tell most of these people no, we can’t help them.”

Another important focus of Sav-R-Cats is controlling the feral cat population through trap, neuter and release programs. According to Bernadette, this is the most humane and cost effective way to control the population. Thousands of cats have been neutered or spayed and given basic vaccinations by the organization. The feral colonies are then cared for by volunteers for the rest of their lives.

Another Sav-R-Cats volunteer, Shirley Major, was working in the adoption center in Surfside Beach the day we met. Shirley, who lives with her son and daughter-in-law, moved here with them and soon realized she needed to find something to do. “I had never volunteered,” she said, laughing, “but we had promised a kitten to my granddaughter, and through the adoption I learned about Sav-R-Cats. Now I work here four days a week.”

The adoption center is home to nearly 80 cats of all shapes, colors and sizes. It is spotlessly clean, with separate quarantine areas for new arrivals. Walking into the center is an amazing experience. Cats are everywhere; on top of shelves built for cat perches, in cages, in cat “condos” and in almost every nook and cranny available. It takes a while to see all of the cats, as some are hidden in unlikely places, but one big gorgeous grey tabby sat on the table while Shirley and I talked, playing with my pen, my pad and generally letting me know he wanted my attention.

Shirley knows the name and personality of each and every cat at the center and loves to talk about her four-legged charges. Prospective owners may visit the center between 10 am and 2 pm, Monday through Saturday. Sav-R-Cats is currently looking for a larger sanctuary to house cats looking for forever homes and feral colonies. Shirley stressed the need for monetary donations and caring volunteers, as well as people willing to provide loving homes. “Come visit us at the adoption center, and meet your new best friend!”

Contact Sav-R-Cats at 843-839-6902 or visit them on the web at www.sav-r-cats.com. The adoption center is located in South Seas Village, on Hwy. 544, in Surfside Beach.

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Pawsitively Purrfect

One of Us

will go in their crates on their own. It’s a comfortable spot for them.”

I told her that I didn’t want to lock him away all day. I thought it would be sad to put him in “doggie prison.” But I also thought it would be sad to continue to redecorate our house.

“It’s not cruel,” the doctor continued. “As long as it is large enough for him to stand up and turn around, it will be fine. It’s for his own safety too.”

We left the vet’s office and drove to Wal-Mart. In the pet section, we found metal crates in various sizes. We bought one large enough for a Saint Bernard. It barely fit in our car.

Once it was assembled at home, Tyson circled his crate like wolves around a wagon. He curiously sniffed its exterior but would not walk inside. We covered the bottom of the crate with a queen-sized comforter Our headlights bore straight through the window to the back of and put his favorite toys and treats inside. He went in long enough to eat our house as Craig and I pulled in our driveway. “Did you leave the blinds his snacks; then he came back out. open in the living room?” he asked. “And the bedroom?”

Over the next several weeks, we put Tyson in the crate when we “No,” I answered. “You know I wouldn’t leave the house open for left to go to work, to the store and out to dinner. He howled, barked, strangers to peek in.” yelped and whined as we walked to our car and backed out the driveway.

“Well one of us must have, and I know it wasn’t me,” Craig When we were at home, we left the crate door open so he continued. could walk in and out as he pleased. We talked about the crate using a And one of us did. It was the one of us with four legs, a nubby pleasant tone, and we never used it as punishment. Eventually, we tail and a brown fur coat. And he was lying on the couch, worn out from began to refer to it as his “house.” And eventually, he went in on his his rampage and surrounded by the evidence. own and remained quiet.

“What have you done?” I screamed at Tyson, our two-year-old Six years and three moves later, Tyson knows that his crate is a adopted Boxer. I had always heard that if you don’t catch a dog in the act, good place. He goes in automatically in the mornings when we have to there is no use yelling at them; they won’t know what they did wrong. But leave. He also goes in when it thunders or when we fuss at him for playing I really wasn’t worried about previous advice at the moment. I wanted to in the garbage. His crate is his refuge. scream. I needed to scream.

We all need a quiet place of our own. Dogs are no exception. We Our blinds were new. In fact, our entire house was brand new. It all need a spot for sleep and solitude. I am glad that Tyson has his place. had been built six months before we brought Tyson home. And now, every And I am glad that we did not give up on him. He is one of us. single vertical blind, (installed just one week earlier) from every single room in the house, was on the floor. Some were in halves, some in quarters, others completely unrecognizable.

Tyson lifted his head off the pillow, glanced in my direction and let loose a jowl jiggling sigh. Then, he put his head back down and continued snoozing. How dare I disturb his sweet slumber.

“It was fun having a dog,” Craig said.

“Yep. He’s outa here,” I agreed. And we went to bed.

The next morning, we called Lowe’s to get a quote for replacing the blinds. My husband and I had a long conversation and considered replacing the dog. We even went through the house and started collecting some of his belongings. We grabbed his sweater, his tennis ball and his rawhide bone. But we couldn’t do it. We couldn’t give up that easily, not on him and not on ourselves.

Craig and I took Tyson to the vet the following week. He was due for a check up, and we were desperate for some advice. We told the vet about the blind incident. We also mentioned the six chocolate muffins and four golf pencils he devoured, resulting in a late night, costly, emergency vet visit.

“He seems to be suffering from separation anxiety,” Dr. Jessica told us. “His destructive behavior is a result of sadness from being left alone.” We asked about prescriptions for doggie Xanax and Valium. The doctor laughed.

“Have you thought about a crate?” Dr. Jessica asked. “They take some adjusting, but eventually dogs tend to prefer them. They

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