Beauty In The Eye

Dedicated to all the storycatchers across the world.

Sam is the last one. He may be the first to go, but for the now he is mine. Time is all around us, and in this space of time, it is my task to create for him a future. A photograph is his message to the world. I am his translator. His language is foreign to many, heard by few, understood only with exception. It is said that a picture is worth a thousand words. In rescue a life can be worth one picture. A picture becomes a chorus singing out through fears and tears in hopes of making the invisible seen, to make the seen loved. With Sam the chorus has faded to a whisper, and it is just his life before me. While for the now he is mine, by the end I am his.

Scotty is easy. He is the first of the day. The husky mix has presence, as though he knows his family is out there wanting him. How rather rude it was to interrupt his daily ramble, bringing him to this place of cinder block and wire: an animal shelter. His eyes are the blue of the ice that edges Lake Michigan in deep winter. He is easy with the camera and easy with my company, even in the close quarters we share. His body speaks of assuredness and the expectation that he’ll survive. Each click of the shutter, each flash stutter, cements his vision. The photographs, his voice, are clear.

Sadie is joy and mirth, even for one living such left-behindedness. I’d met her the week before. She’d been more cowed then, disheveled and gaunt. And abandoned. Her people moved. Away. Gone. As if she were worthless and invisible, she was left to the shelter system. Another pit bull in the shelter system. Our American shelter system is glued together by the bones and ash of pit bulls.

In the space of a week, though, Sadie is new. She is not what she was. Somehow in this system she has found some light. They have fed her well, and she looks clean. She smiles. Sadie is obedient and effervescent. Our conversation via the camera is one of reunited friends, alternating between giggles and sighs. Her mirth is infectious, and I find myself excited to share with the world her transformation. Surely someone will feel it, feel her pulse through a picture, and realize she is a piece of their puzzle. Without her they are not complete.

That’s right. A piece of a puzzle. The human life is such a thing. All too often we seem to view domesticated animals as add-ons to a life. A little bling here and there. But they aren’t. They are to be woven into our life, facing with us the calm and the turbulence, bracing us in storms of tears and rage, opening us to quiet moments of grace, and everything in the in-betweenness of living.

Sadie dazzles me, and I step away happier than I’d been before. She gives me hope.

There are more. There are plenty. There are too many. Some see the camera and put on a show. Some seem resigned to the intrusion. A couple dogs leave me deflated. I fail them. I am not up to the task on this day to capture who I see they are. Patty. She’s one of those. Last week her pictures spoke of fear. She hunkered in a corner. She was pretty, don’t get me wrong, but the fear reverberated without hope or the thought that comfort could be hers. Black dog. Even more frustrating. The sad black dog that this camera in my hand and I fail because we cannot capture her warm heart, the loyal friend, the fellowship she is seeking among this world of humans. All I capture are sad eyes and a shadow of a being. This week is not much different. Her pictures are not speaking her story. I am a beggar for her story. I beg for naught. I fail.

So come around to Sam. The last of them. His kennel card reads of a potential dismal future: “aggressive towards animals.” Yes, a small, old dog is dead now. Why a small, old dog was roaming about, I do not know. Why Sam was chained up, I know not either. All I know is in this story he gets off his chain, meets a canine friend, a little dog dies, and Sam ends up surrendered to bricks and wire. “Aggressive towards animals” is his scarlet letter.

Stepping behind the gate, I enter another story, the timeless one. Sam strikes me as a dog who should be at the feet of his humans, stretched out before a crackling fire on a cold winter’s night. He is shepherd/husky, the kennel card says. And it says he is only 3. He sports quite the white on his muzzle. I don’t look at his teeth to check the age. And the first clicks of the shutter cause him to shudder. Ah, weary and wary, do you think that I steal your soul?

I so want to capture him, that dog I see at the feet of the humans. But in this journey of capturing pictures-that-are-words we know the things to be looking for – a twinkle in the eyes, ears flopped forward, an inquisitive head tilt. From Sam I get the turn of a head away away away. And I feel so sorry for him. I reach out, and even as he looks away, his paw lifts and is in my palm. This is his conversation. It speaks volumes. I click away with the camera as much to capture these moments of giving as to capture the beat of my heart, and then I am on the ground. My jeans are a sponge to the damp kennel floor, and I really don’t care a lick. I can smell like animal shelter all day for this.

His head is on my lap.

He rolls onto his side, a paw in the air. Submissive to the humans. The humans who as a society have failed him and may fail him still.

I am his.

And where twinkle-eyed, floppy-eared, tilted-head pictures are not to be seen, maybe my words will make him visible. I write them to give space for my tears to flow in this quiet timeless space of the written word. I write them in hopes of saving his life. I write them to tell his story, all the time remembering a paw in the palm and a head on my lap. I write this for Sam and for all the others who are here because of us, who need us to be better than we are. This is for Sam. I am part of his story.


All of these beautiful creatures are available for adoption at Jackson County Animal Shelter in Sylva, NC. 828.586.6138. Spay, Neuter, Adopt, Adore, and Share.

Appealing to the Masses

Dear Friends and Family, the time has come. My friends and I are building a regional animal welfare organization The Underground Tailroad, and we are asking for your support. I am asking for your support. Ever since I felt called to this part of North Carolina, I have been surprised time and time again with how pieces of a puzzle have fit together. The final pieces for The Underground Tailroad are finding their place.

One of those pieces was finding a group of people of similar mind and the energy to do some really big work - creating better communities through the human-animal bond. Kindness, creativity, collaboration, and cooperation motivate us to help both the animals and the people in our community. We believe that animals help humans in so many ways, and we have a responsibility to be stewards for living things.

Another piece is simply the process of pursuing our tax write-off status...the 501c3. We are an incorporated Nonprofit in North Carolina, but it will take us up to a year to have that piece of paperwork which says, yep, you can write off your donation, folks. In the meantime, we still have a lot of work to do, and because our work is about ending euthanasia, we don't just get to sit around on our fannies and wait for that 501c3. This work needs us to be available every day and almost every hour. We need you to invest in us, to reach out to those who might want to invest in us, like any start-up. In the nonprofit world, the rewards aren't in big stock percentages and monetary payouts; the rewards are in making the world a better place.

What do we do? A lot. We work with animal shelters to improve relationships and save animals - we foster animals ourselves and network them to adopters and rescues. We transport animals from high-euthanasia shelters in the south to safe-for-life facilities in other parts fo the country. Why? Because transport works. Of the 51 dogs and cats sent to a rescue partner in New Jersey two days after Thanksgiving, only 5 are still looking for homes. And we are doing it again the day after Christmas.

We try to help people with animal emergencies and to keep families together - that means helping someone keep their dog or cat, whenever we can. We strive to improve awareness about spay/neuter as a key element in ending the euthanasia of 3-4 MILLION animals a year in the USA. Indeed, improving access to spay/neuter in our rural mountains of Western North Carolina is a top priority. And we know that people so often don't know where to turn to for help here. We want to be the place they know to turn to. What about wildlife? For those of you who know me, I have a wildlife rehabilitation background, as do others on the team. Because we are in isolated geography, finding help for injured wildlife is often a challenge, and that is also something we want to assist with. A wildlife program is in our list of goals for the next 3 years.

Right now we just need to be able to dedicate ourselves to this effort fully and wholeheartedly. We are looking for support which would include partial salary support for two people, myself being one of them. We need to be able to go out in the community and work, make the connections that need to be made, in order to build The Underground Tailroad into what we have dreamed of. It is not some ephemeral dream. It is real. We have created real success in this region, and it is also because we see our community asking for us to take the next steps that we feel the time is right. One in 10 people cannot read in this part of the country. Unemployment is rampant. Animal welfare AND community welfare are far behind where any of us would like them to be. It is up to us to do something about it.

We see organizations like Best Friends Animal Society, Animal Compassion Network, Asheville Humane Society, and The Washington Animal Rescue League, and we know we have the capacity to evoke change just like they have. That is what we are striving for. What about our name? The Underground Tailroad was built with the idea that we are responsible for guiding our communities to freedom and prosperity, and that our communities are made up of living things, in general. Just as humans helped other humans through the Underground Railroad, so do we see our responsibility to be a beacon for hope in our current age, and we hold the significance of the Underground Railroad close to our hearts and with utmost respect as we pursue this through the human-animal bond.

Do you have questions? Would you like to support us, but want to know more? Please email us at undergroundtailroad@gmail.com or message us on our Facebook page The Underground Tailroad. We are working on our website, but the fact of the matter is that Facebook is a powerhouse for helping animal welfare advocates do their work. The Facebook page is also an excellent resource for you to see what we are about, the cases we have handled, our rhetoric and passion.

I thank you for your time. I thank you for following this blog and for following our work. We couldn't be here without you, and so many, MANY animals are alive because of your support. Just as so many people are thankful for the help we've been able to provide. We want to do more. To do more we need you.

Happy Holidays.

Love from the Tailroad,

Chandra

President & Executive Director

The Underground Tailroad

If you would like to donate, make checks out to The Underground Tailroad and send to:

Chandra Spaulding

The Underground Tailroad

8381 US Hwy 441 S

Sylva, NC 28779 USA

Donations can also be sent via Paypal to undergroundtailroad@gmail.com

Again, thank you for supporting our vision and mission!

Welcome to the Land of Misfit Toys (Toy Breeds, That Is)

Minion is doing his best to distract me. He is indignant and seeking revenge after being crated for a few hours while I ran errands, so this six week old kitten is alternately attacking my clothes, biting my nose, and swatting at my eyeballs as if to say, "If you aren't going to look at me, then I'll make it so you won't see at all." He's my precious pearl of a fosterling. Very charming. And lonely. His two siblings passed away within a couple days of each other this week. If you ask me why, you'll hear me say, "Because people don't fix their pets." It's nearing the end of what has been a very long year of trying to save cats and kittens...of trying to make people care about saving cats and kittens. I'm not sure where we are with that.

The Jackson County Animal Shelter has continued to be full to bursting with purrballs, and I'd like to see the community care more about that. I'd like to see my community stand up against that. We need a new shelter. And people need to spay and neuter the animals in their care. Indeed, yesterday a woman took turns pleading for help and screaming at me because I wouldn't take her two 'very unique' kittens. She'd couple that with how irresponsible people are when it comes to fixing their pets. I admit, I'm confused. And as for 'very unique,' well, all kittens are unique. Every kitten in animal shelters across the United States is UNIQUE. Unique kittens die every day in numbers the general public doesn't want to digest. And since the general public isn't facing the reality in Jackson County, NC, very little is being done to change it. The work that is being done is being carried out by a handful of taxpayers who work jobs, raise families, and fight tirelessly to make a difference. I'm one of those.

Last night I spent a few hours of one-on-one time with my son Eli. I took him to the State Fair. It was actually our second time, but the first was marred by our watching a newly hatched chick drown in its water dish behind the glass panel of its hutch. Sure, Universe, just wait for the gang of animal advocates to show up to have the chick take its last breath a few seconds before we finally got help (slow, plodding help). Eli even snuck behind 'enemy lines' so to speak to make sure it was dead, because the attendant seemed dazed about the whole thing. Eli, who has witnessed enough of animal welfare struggles this year, deserved a fun trip, so I tried to make that happen by returning to the fair with him for Mommy-and-Me time. I have to say, the results were impressive.

So impressive that after an enormously heavy work load this past week, I was beat by the end of our night out. My eyelids kept closing, and I finally pulled over at a gas station to catch a few zzzzzz's, setting the timer for an hour. Nine minutes later, I kid you not, I bolted awake certain that I was asleep at the wheel and careening off the highway, with the green grass right in front of my eyes. I wasn't. I was safely parked. But I was awake after that. I hadn't been that wiped out since working overnights as a critical care veterinary nurse in California. I can remember those days of leaving work at 7 a.m. and having to pull into a drive-through's parking lot or off the road by a cow pasture to get a little sleep before finishing the trip home. It's all good, though. It's just been a busy week.

Haywood Spay/Neuter had its largest spay/neuter day yet on September 11th, sending out ninety dogs and cats between trap-neuter-return and owned pets. And, yes, September 11th. That loaded date where time seems to stop and the air seems to be knocked out of one's lungs. That was the date for our spay/neuter trip. We commemorated the day by tying memorial ribbons to all the crates being loaded to go to Asheville Humane Alliance. For a couple of weeks beforehand we would say over and over again throughout the day, "Our next spay/neuter trip is on September 11th." We just had to do something. Sometimes when there seems to be nothing one can do to make something better, a small act, such as tying ribbons on crates, becomes significant, especially when owners of dogs and cats want to participate, and we join together to be a community in the wake of sadness.

 So that's a very brief synopsis of my week. Very brief and incomplete. And it is just a lead-in for the rescue magic I was able to partake in today. Rescue magic coming on the tails of exhaustive diligence is the most rewarding magic there is, I believe.

From Left to Right: Eli, holding Rae, Kessa with Rock Star,
and Sandy with Blue, her new foster.

If you'd come in my office today, you would have seen three adults all wrapped up in helping three little dogs. First, there was Blue, the little middle-aged dachshund with the nose that goes on for forever. We jokingly referred to him as a pelican, for when you'd hold him in your arms, it was as if he were perching, bird-like, his nose a loooooong beak. We pulled him from the Jackson County Animal Shelter this morning, thanks to a foster coming forward to give him a place in their home while we figure out where he will go rescue-wise.

Blue, the Dachshund

Kessa was calling me, so I knew it had to be important. Kessa goes up to the Jackson shelter about once a week to take photographs of as many animals as she can. This was something I used to do, and I'm thrilled to have her taking a lead role in it now because there don't seem to be enough hours in a day. And pictures save lives.

Rock Star after bath & trim

Rock Star's wounds, front right shoulder/leg

Rock Star is all of 11 pounds. He is a miniature poodle mix, though it was hard to tell under the matted hair, gloppy goopy eyes, and, well, the malodorous (okay, ahem, Reeeeking) wounds under his one front leg. She wanted to know if there was anything we could do for him. Meanwhile, my dogs all heard the phone ring and were expressing their excitement through barking, whining, and general tail-beating-against-crates. Eli slept through the whole thing.

We put our heads together, and we decided to call ARF Jackson Humane, so I hung up and called our go-to gal in the organization to see if we could get them to take on the little bugger and get him medical attention. It was a go. Kessa drove him to Sylva Animal Hospital, had his wounds assessed, medications dispensed, and then brought him to the office. You wouldn't have known he was grossly injured, the way he toddled around the back office, happy-go-lucky, content to go sit in a crate or be petted.

Christy Swanton showed up with toy dog number 3. In fact, this dog even has numbers...in its ear. Rae is a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel who was at Haywood County Animal Services. Supposedly she was 'found in a barn.' Who knows what the reality is. But she does have a tattoo with letters and numbers in one ear. She has obviously had litters of puppies, and her eyes have that cloudy misty appearance that comes with advancing age in dogs. She is also darling. Absolutely endearing. Three people, three toy dogs.

Sweet 'Baby' Rae, upon arrival at rescue, before grooming/bath

Thankfully it was a fairly low-key day in the office, and Christy brought clippers. Rock Star and Rae each received their trimmings, followed by major baths. Rock Star has a thin coat and flaky, icky skin, plus he has those big wounds. Rae, well, she just smelled. Blue, Rae, and Rock Star are all about eight years old, and both of the boys are neutered. Just goes to show that small dogs do end up in our shelters...more often that we'd like, most certainly.

Blue left with his foster family. Rock Star left with Kessa, and he'll be bounced around a couple foster homes until he settles in with a longer-term ARF foster to heal from what looks like abscessed bite wounds, judging from the four deep punctures. He's receiving antibiotics and pain medication, as well as eye ointment. It looks like he has vision problems and is hard of hearing too.

Rae is with me. She will be dropped off with my landlady in the morning. My landlady is a hobby breeder of Cavalier King Charles Spaniels. Fancy that. No one is allowed to criticize her in my presence for being a breeder. For three years she has allowed me to freely foster cats and dogs out of my rental. She never complains. Her dogs are healthy, beautiful, and receive excellent veterinary care...what a breeding program should be. She raises Cavaliers because she grew up with them in Ireland, and you basically have to work from home to own one of her pups. She knows the breed. She loves her dogs. And I thought I'd ask for her help on Rae's behalf.

Sweet Baby Rae will either stay with my landlady permanently or be worked into one of our transport programs. Only time will tell. The important thing is that she, as well as Blue and Rock Star, are safe. Because people were motivated, creative, and willing to work together, Blue, Rock Star, and Rae are SAFE. That's what it takes. We have to move beyond being a community in name only to being an active and responsible community that wants to change our reality. The animals deserve it. Assuredly so. But so do we. Our shelters reflect us as citizens, as taxpayers, as human beings. The way we treat our animals reflects humanity, or the lack thereof.

I don't mind a stretch of lack of sleep. I don't mind answering the phone call from a friend. I don't mind finding a space for a fifteen pound dog to spend the night so she can get out of a shelter and feel loved again. That's what it takes. I wouldn't trade it for the world, and I wake up every day grateful for my life and the people and animals in it. I know each day is an adventure, even if just a virtual one, such as dreaming I am careening off the road. More often than not, though, the adventure is real. There is a lot of work to do in Western North Carolina to make our Community better, and I'm game for that adventure. You can bet on it.

Love from the Tailroad,
Chandra

Life was good with Velvel. Then you had kids.

Oh, dearest Tailroadies...grant me this response to the following article published on www.slate.com. While I believe in kindness and compassion, I also believe that writers have a responsibility to recognize the power of their words. When it comes to animal welfare, what seems like a little damage can go a very, very long way. So, read Ms. Benedikt's article, if you will, and tolerate my response, for it is mouth, sarcastic, and scolding...not in my normal style. Just humor me. Love from the Tailroad, Chandra

http://www.slate.com/articles/life/family/2013/07/kids_and_dogs_if_you_re_having_a_baby_do_not_get_a_puppy.html


Dear Ms. Arnold, oh, I mean, Dear Ms. Been-a-dick…oops, I mean Ms. Benedikt,

It’s too bad you can’t take your own advice: “…If you do get a dog, don’t have kids.” The least you could have done, though, is stop at one. Your piece reads like you have been stuck in a nightmarish PPD haze for, uh, how long…oh, yes, four years. Seriously, you have to wipe your four year old’s bottom, but you can’t find time to take your dog to the groomer so HIS butt is trimmed and you don’t have to, as you put it, “grab a pair of scissors and hack off a clump of his hair” when he goes potty? Certainly it can’t be about money, since you’ve had three kids and own 2,459 tiny fucking Legos. Okay, maybe grandma gave the kids the Legos, though I’d be surprised if she gave you tiny fucking Legos. I’ll give you that one, though. And maybe she gave you those go-go-gadget-knock-me-up genes, but there is such a thing as birth control. I recommend you start using it, because with your luck Velvet, no, wait, Valet, or was it Velcro…oh, wait, VELVEL, that’s right...Velvel will live to be about 20 years old regardless of kidney or liver issues. At your rate you will be giving the Duggar family a run for their money. 

Maybe you should put a little less time into baby-making and take the kids for a walk with your dog. I wouldn’t be surprised if you have one of those three-child strollers so your kids’ feet never have to touch the ground.  (Actually, do you even let them go outside? I mean, the germs! And the dog poop they could step in! Oh my!) Here’s an idea: tell John to put his pants back on. Have him put the baby in an Ergo carrier like the cool dads do, and tell him to take the dog for a walk. Then you can change that shirt covered in baby puke, because that’s gotta be a drag. I’ve never heard of a mom being urped up on before by her baby. What an inconvenience.

Oh, wait, let me think for a minute…YES! I can remember baby urp up! It’s hard to dredge up that memory. It’s covered up in dog hair and cat shit from all the foster animals I take care of. Foster animals which come with bylines such as: “Surrendered to shelter because of new baby,” or “Moving to new apartment that won’t allow pets.” Or maybe “Found it along the road, and it must be a stray” (yeah, buddy, because that is why he was sitting there politely at your side looking at you like he’s ready to play fetch while you signed him into doggy death camp). Another oldie but a goody is “allergies.” Uh-huh. Allergies, my ass. Can’t you come up with some better excuses, people? Oh, but I digress. We were talking about baby urp up, weren’t we? I DO know about baby urp up. Do you know why, Ms. Benedikt? Because I am a mom. Yup. Birthed a baby out of this here vajayjay. That was nine years ago. I’d have had more, but, well, other people’s pets’ hair and poop have kind of gotten in the way of that. Looks like it’s going to stay that way, since you are telling lovely, loving, doting couples to never grow up and to never get a dog. So there will just be more pets not getting homes in your fairy tale, which means more work for those of us who care about living things other than ourselves. I guess you think 3 million animals dying in shelters in the United States each year just isn’t enough. Oh, wait, you also said that thing about if you get a dog, skip the kids. That’s right. How very Peter Pan-ish of you. Actually, your life sounds very Generation Millenial…maybe we should get you on Sixteen and Pregnant?

And all that whining coming from Velvel, is it as whiny as your writing? Then you should probably know exactly how he feels, because I’m pretty sure he knows exactly how you do. After all, people domesticated dogs, not the other way around. People spent year after year after year across time luring the canine spirit to crawl into our laps. We heap our abuse upon them, and they know us often better than we know ourselves. Maybe he is saying, “Legos on the floor and Desitin-painting by small children are normal, as is your life. Love it, and pet me, and remember I am old so if I fart, forgive me. People fart all the time and dogs don’t complain. Oh, and just let me lick up that urp up. It looks good.”

What if you used your pen to, oh, I don’t know, say something along the lines of, “Hey, it’s tough. I’m a tired mom with three kids, a lazy husband, and an old crotchety dog. It’s hard to be a grown up. The economy sucks. I have to write stupid drivel in order to buy Legos, Desitin, a new shirt, and liver meds for my dog. When you go get that puppy for your partner, remember that the growing up didn’t start there. It started the first time you kissed. Life’s tough. Grow up. And when that puppy or the kids are driving you nuts, remember the first time you kissed and put Marley and Me in the DVD player.”

Maybe you could use your experience as a real world parent to help those of us who are fighting to build better communities by saving the lives of cast-off animals. Was Velvel a rescue? What’s his story? Use your words to help others who are struggling. Help lift them up. Let them know they aren’t alone. Maybe that’s what you were trying to convey, but we animal advocates can be a sensitive lot. That’s because we work ALL THE TIME to fix other people’s mistakes, and we don’t like it when someone makes it worse when they have the talent to make it better. My kid spends his spare time going to the animal shelter with me so we can try to save another life. Then there are the really cool field trips we take to the veterinarian. Oh, and it’s really awesome after school when he gets to hang out with me at the spay/neuter office, watching me try to help people get their shit together to fix their pets. Saturday mornings are for sleeping in. Yeah, right. Saturday mornings in our house are like any other day. Dogs start barking before dawn. Actually, my neighbors fighting cocks start crowing an hour before that, oh Glory. Then the cats start meowing for food. The litter boxes have to be cleaned. The bottle-baby kittens need to be fed. Oh, and on that topic, don’t you even try to say that my having only a nine year old means I don’t get what you are going through. You try bottle-feeding kittens for one whole kitten season. You wouldn’t last a week. You’d be too worried about your shirt.

I’d love it if someone used their considerable talent to make things easier for those of us who pull more hours out of a day than one can think humanly possible. I thought I was exhausted when my son was a toddler. I was wrong. I’m bone-tired every single day. I see sadness pretty much every single day, too, but I try to make the best of it, because I want my son to grow up to be part of a generation that looks out for each other and the planet. I also know that any suffering I may have in my life is nothing compared to the suffering that takes place in other parts of the world. We are damn lucky to be able to have our kids and dogs. We are damn lucky that our kids in most cases get to grow up, and that dogs get to be part of our self-serving lives to calm us, to challenge us, to keep us safe. In some places they just end up in a cooking pot. Gives your ‘dog food scare’ home cookin’ scenario a little different perspective, doesn’t it? And how nice to live in a country where we can have more than one child not because we hope that one will survive, but because we can be selfish. Hell, I’m all for reproductive rights, but enough is enough. We can’t even fix all our dogs and cats. Stupid humans. But we can just keep having more kids because we want to nah nah nah booboo you can’t stop me and then complain about the dog. So there you go. I’m sure you have more baby vomit to deal with, and don’t forget those Legos. There are still probably about 1,982 of the tiny fucking things on the floor, and by now they are covered in Desitin too (ever heard of child locks?) We wouldn’t want to keep you from your life’s major catastrophes.

One last word of advice, though…how about this: instead of spending so much time writing about how awful it is to have a dog when you have kids, you spend that time WITH YOUR DOG. Maybe then he’d stop whining. He probably just wants to pee. 

Breathing In, Reaching Out

It was 2 a.m. last night when I finally turned off the light. I was caught up in a document 168 pages long, and I'd only made it through half, but what an inspiring half it was. I didn't realize how quickly it would lead to a real world impact. Twelve hours was all it took. The document is the Pets for Life Community Outreach Toolkit. Big name, I know. But inside the Toolkit was an ethic I believe in. It is an ethic that inspired the creation of The Underground Tailroad. It is an ethic that motivates me every day.

Click HERE to Find Your Own Downloadable Copy of the Toolkit

I believe in the Human-Animal Bond. I believe that animals bring a lot of goodness to our lives - intrinsic and extrinsic rewards which improve human health and well-being. I believe that it is our human duty to bring such goodness to the lives of animals, as well. Call it what you may: stewardship, compassion, care-taking, dominion. Although I don't personally ascribe to the latter label, I've been approached by more than one individual who sees from a spiritual perspective that humans have dominion over the creatures of the earth by Grace of God, so it goes on the list. Whether stewardship or dominion or somewhere in-between, aren't we laden with the responsibility of creating goodness?

I do ascribe to the Pets for Life (PFL) model. All too often I hear animal advocates and animal lovers pushing humans to the side with judgment and hostility. Do I ever feel that way? Most certainly. I don't believe that animal cruelty should go unnoticed or uncorrected. I see neglect. I react like the majority of humans with disgust and dismay as animals suffer under our care. But I also know that if I want things to improve for the animals, I better not forget the people behind them, or I will never win. I will never be contributing to fixing what is a broken system of animal welfare. I will be an actor, a player with a part, and I may have impact in the moment, but I won't be creating the impact I want to see across time. I better put on my big girl pants and swallow my ego, because that's the only way I'll get the world that I want. The more I tell someone what to do or put my expectations on them, the harder I will have to work in my life. I don't want to work that hard, so I choose a different course.

Which brings me to today. 2 p.m.

I'm sitting in the bustling office at Haywood Spay/Neuter, where I am Executive Director, and the phone rings. A gentleman is looking for the phone number for animal services. That's easy enough, but oh so often there is much more behind that request, and without my prodding, he laid it upon me. He has a dog that he needs to give up. 

Stop. 

How many of you know this moment? This is THE moment, folks. This is the make it or break it moment. This is a crossroads with multiple destinations, and this is where the real work begins. What do you do?

Judge? Say, "You horrible human being"? That's the easy one. It gives you an immediate sense of worth by making another person worthless. It doesn't take much work at all to get to that destination.

Escape? Haywood County Animals Services is 828.456.5338. There. done. I'm an Executive Director at a spay/neuter nonprofit. This isn't my responsibility. I've got a million things to do today, so this can be someone else's problem. NIMBY. Not in my backyard. 

In all honesty, I am not very good at pressing the 'escape' button. In fact, I'm sure there are lots of people who think I need to press the 'escape' button more often, but that's not my path in this life. But I am not you, so I'm just putting that option out there.

I'm pretty sure it was because I was reading the Toolkit that I found myself taking a deep breath. In. That quiet space we all know exists but takes an effort to tap into. Unless you are a practiced yogi or a sage or a priest, I suppose. I like to think that our social workers and our teachers are good at this too, this breathing in and pause. Breathe in so as to reach out. 

It wasn't just a dog. It was a pit bull type dog. Big strike against the dog if it goes to the shelter. The fellow then stated that the dog had mange. How about just putting a big red X across that dog's intake sheet if it ends up at animal services? Maybe I'm being a pessimist, but I think I'm being more of a realist. Rescue resources for pitties in our area are few and far between. Complicate that with a medical condition, and whammy. No happy ending. Just an ending instead. So what now? 

The answer for me is simple: try to find a solution to keep this dog out of the shelter. He wasn't trying to give up the animal to the shelter out of lack of love. As the story unfolded, I could hear his voice waver. He'd found this dog over a year ago. It was a mellow dog, good with kids and other dogs, well-behaved, laid-back. All wonderful qualities. So why give it up? I asked that, and he gave me reasons. Real reasons.

• He's done everything he knows to do to treat the skin disease and nothing is working. 
• Hear yourself judging? You might be.
• He has four other dogs, and this one is chained.
• Judging yet? 
• He is unemployed.

Ah. This is something I can relate to. My family, in general, has had lots of up-and-down financial struggles since I was about eight years old, so I relate to the stresses we encounter in life with a fairly long-arm view. I also was unemployed for twenty months while creating the Tailroad movement, putting myself through grad school (almost done!), caring and educating my son, and trying to find an awesome job in animal advocacy, such as I have now.

By taking the time to listen and ask open-ended questions, I was able to find out quickly that this was a man who was overwhelmed. He wanted help, but didn't seem to quite want to accept it. The more we spoke over the phone, the more I thought that, "Wow, I think he is embarrassed!" I may never know, but it sounded to me like he felt horrible about how bad his dog looked, and that he didn't want anyone to know this was his dog, his responsibility, and, in his eyes, his failure. Nothing he'd tried had worked. Mange can make a dog look appalling when it goes systemic - a dog covered by festering skin. Maybe he should have taken the dog to the vet, you say, perhaps with a little bit of a tilted nose, a sniff, and a hint of sarcasm. Yes, there is that. However, low-cost veterinary services can be hard to come by. Also, from a cultural context, which I highly believe everyone needs to think about as they live their lives, we live in a location where people tend to do what they can with what is available, including doing their own shots for their pets, and home remedies if something is wrong with them, or reaching for a product at a farm supply store. It's common practice here.

What next? Time for action. We made a plan. I took his contact information and asked if I could try to secure veterinary care for his dog. He acquiesced. It took quite a bit of time to get to this point. Before we reached that point, I asked about his other dogs, because I really wanted to know more about them. I found out one had been adopted from a local humane society and had come fixed. Great! Another was a female feist. Fixed. Woohoo! The third was a 13 year-old pit bull. Wow, sounds like a good caretaker to me. Not fixed, he admitted, but given the dog's age, that's fair, and he was the one to bring up how he needs to keep an eye out for prostate and testicular cancer. Fantastic. The fourth is a small-breed puppy, not yet fixed. A mutt. So we talked about signing the puppy up for our spay/neuter trip at the end of the month when it is old enough to also receive a rabies vaccine. Kind of glad we kept that conversation going.

Why is the dog chained? Because he has a smaller home, and this dog is a larger dog, and there may be too many dogs, and he, the human, is stressed out about life right now. That situation isn't ideal, but it goes on a to-do list to come back to in the future. At least he doesn't seem to want to chain this dog up, which is still considered common practice here in Western North Carolina.

I gave him my cell number so he had a way to reach me, because I told him it might take me a day or two to align assistance. Honestly, if I was going to have to solicit the volunteers and staff in the office for donations, I was willing to do it. I gave him my number because I wanted him to know that I wasn't just listening and giving up on him and his dog.

During the next hour I spoke with an animal hospital twice. I spoke with Linda from SPARK, a pit bull organization which funds medical care. I spoke with Joanna from Francis Fund, Haywood County's emergency veterinary expense resource. Between all these partners, we managed to make him an appointment to have his dog seen so it could receive the treatment it needs.

The veterinary receptionist was helpful beyond words. She was thoughtful and understanding. And I appreciated two organizations joining together to offer to fund the treatment this dog needed. Did I hear the familiar refrain about how he needs to pay something because we don't want him thinking he doesn't have any responsibility? Yes. I did. And I could only reply that he was paying in other ways. In the back of my head I couldn't help but think how a little giving now could lead to goodness being paid forward down the road, how it could keep this dog in its home with a person who loves it, how it could bring another community member into our hearts and into this process of change. We have the potential in these scenarios to make friends. To find a new volunteer. To find a spokesperson who takes our message and spreads it across a neighborhood, a community. We have the potential to save a dog. To help a family. That's about all I need.

This is still an open case. But I will say, though, that when I called him back with the good news, well, it warmed my heart to hear his gratitude. I could hear his voice lift with some real hope and optimism. And surprise. I didn't expect that, so for me, the reward was very great, even if the time investment was high. I received three cell phone photos of his dogs today. In a way, I've already met his family. I told him I'll be calling him tomorrow to remind him of his upcoming appointment, and, yes, this whole thing could fail. This blog could be for nothing. He could simply -poof- disappear, but I don't think he will. I may have to find a rescue for this dog. He may really need help rehoming him. Or maybe not. We'll just have to see. He loves this dog, so if we have to rehome him, well, we're doing it out of love, and I'll work with that.

I did offer him a word of caution: "Be nice to the veterinary staff." Just to be safe. Just a reminder that a lot of people were going to bat for him and his dog, so be polite. Maybe I shouldn't have, but, basically, in this blog I am saying to you and to me the same thing, "Be nice." Be part of the solution. 

And although I am the Executive Director at Haywood Spay/Neuter, Haywood Spay/Neuter is STILL Haywood Animal Welfare Association at its root. I see it as my duty and my destiny to strive to help us all fare well. And I will continue to work my way through the Pets for Life Toolkit, because I don't think it is done teaching me lessons. Indeed, I believe it is just a beginning to something incredible, a path to a destination I want to reach where we all work together, and the animals are safe and loved, and so are the humans.

Love from the Tailroad,

Chandra

Smitten With Kittens: Baby Exxon

Baby Exxon was trapped on June 23, 2013, at an Exxon station in Sylva, NC, where she'd been surviving on her own for some time. Folks tried to nab her, and she just wouldn't give in. Food was being left out for her, but finally we procured a live trap, got rid of all the old food, and trapped her cute little spirited hissy self within a few hours.

We made a video blog about her transformation. So many cats are trapped and euthanized each year across the United States. Classified traditionally as 'ferals,' we like to use the more-appropriate term 'Community Cats.' Community Cats range from being, yes, feral, or quasi-wild, to tamed or tameable kitties. But in our shelter system, they often face a sad fate: euthanasia. The blanket euthanasia policy which these cats face rankles us to no end. Community Cats were created by humans over the centuries, and we have a role as stewards upon this planet to care for them. Yes, we need to eliminate the proliferation of such cats in our society, but the best way to do that is through spay/neuter and education. Trap-Neuter-Return programs do just that, and they work.

Trap-Neuter-Return (TNR) means trapping Community Cats, fixing and vaccinating them, and placing them back with the rest of their colony. The population of these cats quickly stabilize, unless people, yes, PEOPLE, continue to dump unaltered cats in these locations. These cats are provided food and, often, medical care as needed. Upon weaning, kittens can be removed, at the initial stage, and placed for adoption. 

What about wildlife impact? Well, in Western North Carolina trap-neuter-return programs exist where people do, not in national parks, national forests, and other protected areas. They also are set up in communities that are not serving as major wildlife habitat, particularly because people, yes, again, PEOPLE, are living in close quarters, such as trailer parks and apartment complexes. What do you find in such locations? Endangered species? Not likely. What IS likely is trash, scraps, and an over-abundance of small rodents. Also, in TNR programs often food is provided for colonies, taking the impact off local wild animal populations. Further, I find it ironic how some groups push for cat eradication programs, i.e. killing these cats, when human impact, the over-abundance of PEOPLE, is acceptable. Humans build roads and multiple houses and businesses across the landscape. Humans pollute the earth and waste resources and eradicate species daily. But it is easier to point a finger at something other than ourselves.

Baby Exxon transformed within fifteen minutes of her rescue. She had been lonely and scared. She had most likely been dumped by a human being. She is safe and loved. She is a success story. For us, trap-neuter-return and looking out for the well-being of our community cat populations are better options than eradication.

We thank Kaleb of Catman2 for chatting about Baby Exxon on Facebook so that we heard about her situation and were able to help. She is now part of Smitten With Kittens 2013, and we look forward to the day when she is spayed, and to the day when she finds her Furever Family. No more smelly mackerel behind the kerosene pump for her.

Love from the Tailroad,

Chandra

Smitten With Kittens Videos

Hi, All!

Just a quick post to bring together some loose ends, as we work our way through learning about this blog's capabilities! We've created some videos this spring/summer to accompany the Smitten With Kittens 2013 campaign, so I am posting them here, now, too. Some are teachable moments. Some are fun.

1) Baby Raymond, our first bottle baby of the season, who found a fantabulous foster mama, thanks to our incredible WNC rescue network, over at Duke's Animal Haven!

2) Learning through our orphans - What to do if you find one!!!

3) Hissy kittens can become precious, loving additions to a family. In a shelter, though, kittens and cats like this are often overlooked. We'd like to change that! These three ended up being pulled as part of the Smitten With Kittens campaign.

4) Sharing the LOVE! These started out as bottle babies on the Tailroad, but a loving mama kitty was done nursing her own, and she jumped in to help, so these three kittens are now under her tender loving care.

5) These four kittens came from a feline leukemia colony. At the time of rescue these two girls and two boys tested negative, so they are in strict quarantine until they can be retested. We are taking it a step at a time. They were dying from flea anemia, but the fleas are taken care of, the kittens are being wormed and fed good food and given lots of love. We take our responsibilities seriously!

Love from the Tailroad,

Chandra

And we'll post videos from now on as we make them, now that we've learned!

xoxoxo

Spay, Neuter, Adopt, Adore, Support, and SHARE!