Pet Rescue Barbie

Groupon Takes Dig at Animal Adoptions and Fails

2010-12-22T13:52:00.001-05:00

We all know the Internet is a source of great humor, like Milk and Cookies, CollegeHumor.com, and The Onion. So what happens when a site whose purpose is not to entertain makes a crack at a real national problem?

Today, Groupon users were introduced to the Groupon Guide to: Adoptable Dogs. Featured, are four cute canines, each with their own story.

At first, you think, oh, how nice, they are using this space to help homeless pets find homes for Christmas. But upon closer inspection, you find the author is attempting to make light of animals in rescues and shelters. Let me tell you, there is nothing funny about millions of homeless pets being euthanized each year in this country.

I'm the president of an animal rescue in Savannah. We specialize in taking on dogs with special needs, much like Herman featured here. We dedicate time to fundraising for their care, getting them to and from appointments, and pre-screening potential families to find just the right fit. I, for one, was sorely disappointed by the Groupon dig, and I wasn't alone. There are now five pages of comments on their "feelings board," and I've seen multiple Facebook and Twitter posts calling for boycotts. I've even sent emails to the businesses on the site that they should have a chat with their Groupon representative if they wish to have my business.

The real fail here is that Groupon had a chance to make a big win for the holidays. Instead of engaging in something they clearly know nothing about (humor), they could have used the spots to feature real pets in need. Not only would those pets probably have found homes, but Groupon would have been praised for its effort, bringing more traffic to the site and more sales to its clients.

Way to miss it big right before Christmas, Groupon.

New Hampshire Man Steals Money and Rental Van from Rescue

2010-03-08T09:42:00.003-05:00

People in rescue work so hard to save the lives of so many, and often with very little resources. So when I opened my inbox this morning to find that a man had stolen nearly $1000 in the promises of rescuing death row dogs in Georgia, I was furious. I'm re-posting the information in the hopes this gets around the Internet and this guy gets caught.

This man is currently missing. He picked up a rental van filled with crates on Thursday evening and left on a transport run on Friday morning around 6am. The canine rescue gave him a $500 prepaid credit card in order to cover gas and he also received a new brand name cell phone charger (car) and a GPS system (no tracking just a regular GPS device) for the van. After a stop in Media PA at another volunteer's home, he received another several hundred dollars because he threatened to walk away from the transport (headed to GA to save 20+ puppies from euthanasia) and the volunteer was desperate to keep the transport going. He stopped in Virgina to rent at a Red Roof Inn, paid for by the rescue, on Friday evening. He was supposed to be in GA for 6:30pm last night but he never showed and as of 4pm Saturday afternoon, his phone has been shut off. The rescue cannot locate him and it appears that he has disappeared with all of their donations dedicated to this transport, their crates, and a rental van. The puppies (including 6 infant yellow lab puppies) are out of time and will probably lose their lives because of this heartless evil man. Please, take a look at this picture below, photocopied the day he left with the van. Please, if you have any information, email us ASAP.
Thank you for all your help, and God Bless.

This was originally posted on a Craigslist site, so the only email address I have is a CL one (comm-ferxh-1632496993@craigslist.org). Someone was at least smart enough to get a copy of his drivers license, so here's the photo and info as well.

Merry Christmas, Sorry We Forgot to Invoice You Last Year

2009-12-08T11:53:00.005-05:00

As we all know, non-profits are struggling to keep afloat in today's economy. It's the holidays, and while people are out hustling to buy gifts for families and loved ones, the gift of charity has fallen by the wayside for most. So imagine my surprise when I opened up my email this morning to find an invoice from VoiceNation for $4.05 dated May 2008.

Now, VoiceNation (who was VoicePlus when we first signed up with them nearly six years ago) offers a free Internet-based voicemail service to 501(c)(3) non-profits. This is a huge asset to us since we are an all-volunteer group without a central office. The service has had its hiccups, but overall, we've been pretty satisfied.

Last May, I attempted to start using it's Internet fax feature to fax pages from my Word Documents to our vets. I thought this would be great and help cut down on my excessive driving. Well, the service was a dud. I called and complained that my faxes were not being received, and that the service would make 10 or more attempts to send the fax and charge me for it. I was told that they had not had anyone else call to complain but that I would not be charged for the faulty service... but they forgot to add "until the end of next year."

I fired back an email that I would not be paying the bill from a year and a half ago for a service that did not work and we discontinued using. What they sent me back was a notice that my account had been canceled and our voicemail number disconnected.

Now, this is not the first time we've had them send automated messages in error, and I'm guessing that it won't be the last. But when I called to complain, and yes, I was agitated at this point, I was given an explanation as to why we got the bill in the first place:

"Our operations manager just realized that we hadn't been billing non-profits enough, so they are having us send out these invoices to try and collect for back payments."

Wow. I wish my other utilities would forget to bill me for more than a year. But I have to admit, I wouldn't enjoy getting a full invoice just in time for Christmas.

Something about this story sounds very familiar though... has a tinge of the Ebeneezer Scrooge feeling to it.

Well, after my phone call, I received a very short and simple email from them with the invoice as an attachment:

"Transaction was voided."

At least they get right to the point. I will say that at least the woman I spoke with on the phone said she was only following the instructions sent by her supervisor to close the account, but that she would fix it immediately for us. She was very polite and patient in trying to appease me, which I'm sure didn't help her to have a good day at the office.

I'm sure I'm not the only one with a Scrooge story this year. Is there a hashtag for that?

Invoice sent to my email this morning. You'll notice that I apparently sent a 134 page fax at one time last May, not to mention that the "Previous Balance" and "Current Charges" don't give the right "Total Due."

NYC Day Two - Web 2.0 Expo Bootcamp

2009-11-16T18:38:00.000-05:00

I had forgotten how crazy conferences can be! We registered to attend a bootcamp today, Communilytics: Applied Community Analytics presented by Alistair Croll of Bitcurrent and Sean Power of Watching Websites. (They wrote a book together, Complete Web Monitoring, which I plan to pick up tomorrow.) The overall gist is how to track and utilize statistics about your online community.

The session started out with them telling us we had license to Tweet (on Twitter, for those of you who don't know that term). Phil looked at me and just about rolled his eyes. (I should also mention that at check in, they had ribbons we could add to our badges, one of which said "Twitter Addict." I have not put it on my badge as I have not yet admitted I have a problem. I will probably have come out of denial by the end of the conference.)

While our bootcamp was going on, so were a few other sessions. I kept the #w2e Twitter search going on my Droid (yes, I'm loving my new Motorola Droid and the 3g network up here) so I could get updates from other sessions. To save the noise on Twitter, I took notes in my notebook and only occasionally made a tweet or retweet.

The real highlight of my day came from a lunch meeting I had pre-arranged with Scott Porad of ICanHasCheezburger.com. I was going to miss his session tomorrow to go to David Letterman, so I dropped him an email to see if there was another time I could possibly meet up. I was shocked when I had an email back so quickly, and we connected via Twitter to meet at lunch. Such a nice guy, and I had no idea was also behind FailBlog.com (as well as 30 other sites). Scott gave me a package of ICanHasCheezburger buttons, and I put one on my lanyard (very cute). It's amazing how much you could learn about a person in 30 minutes. Scott has never been to Georgia (hadn't even heard of Paula Deen), and I have never been to Seattle. We joked about the little quirks that make our hometowns special, and he shared with me how he came to be part of ICanHasCheezburger (oh, check out the newest one, FailDogs.com).

Lunch came and went too fast. Scott was incredibly gracious and a lot of fun to chat with. I went back to my afternoon session, took some more notes, then came back to the hotel. After a nice, long, hot shower, I'm about ready to head out to the Ignite New York event this evening. I'm so glad it is only a couple blocks away; I have developed a small fear of cabs in the last 24 hours.

So, for those of you not attending, here's a few highlights from my 14 pages of notes:

There is no such thing as a social media marketer - communities are a medium.

Companies doing well are adaptive to their audience.

The US is 8th in social networking (Jamaica is #1, and I think it is actually my parents and their friends sending photos when they go down to party... I mean vacation.)

Online marketing made advertising accountable - community marketing builds trust.

Caring about your online community encourages self-support thus saving businesses lots of $ - cost of using an online community for support is $0.24 per instance vs. nearly $4 of using the phone.

It's ok to retweet and repeat your items 3 to 4 times per day.

Keep a search on Twitter of #yourcompanyname #fail.

The best time of day to tweet is 4:01 pm any time zone.

Facebook will overtake Google in unique visitors in the next five months.

Make lots of mistakes and learn from them.

Being talked about is nothing; being remembered is everything.

Books to pick up:
Complete Web Monitoring
Putting the Public Back in Public Relations

Online Tools to Use:
SpyFu
WatchingWebsites.com
Rollyo.com
TweetDeck
Facebook Lexicon
Twitalyzer
SiteVolume
Socialistics
Trendrr.com
Compete.com
Kissmetrics

NYC Day One

2009-11-15T20:52:00.001-05:00

What a week this has been! First off, thanks to everyone who donated and joined us for the Yappy Hour Blue Jeans Ball last night. My understanding is that the total was right around $4500 for what was paid, and a few folks still owe us a bit so it should push us over $5000. I heard that Google gave the wrong address for the venue, so we lost some traffic (wonder if we can send them a bill).

I had a very early morning, arriving to Savannah International Airport at 5:30 am after having four hours of sleep. Most folks in line were quiet; it didn't take long to get checked in. I passed time playing on my new cell phone, though the Wi-Fi in the airport didn't work worth a lick (Phil says that's normal for Savannah).

We arrived to NY, and were actually over 20 minutes early. Our shuttle came, but we hadn't printed out the vouchers (just had the numbers on us), so the guy wouldn't take us. So we hopped in a cab, which I interpreted to be a filthy version of Disney's Mr. Toad's Wild Ride. The traffic was horrendous; I now understand what is really traffic. We arrived at our hotel... well, make that a hotel. Turns out, it was the wrong one. So off we go, hiking (thankful I wore my hiking boots after all) for about eight blocks. We arrive to find our rooms weren't ready. We leave the bags and head next door to a restaurant called Pigalle. I can't get over how loud it is in the restaurant for early Sunday afternoon. At least the weather was nice.

We retreated back to the rooms for afternoon movies and naps. Well, Phil worked in his room on our sites, and I took to learning new apps on my phone while catching up with my sweetheart. I would have liked to enjoy the view, but its just an old brick tower with broken out windows. Nothing fabulous to look at, though we are right next to the fire station, home of Ladder 4. Walking by there and seeing the memorial from 9/11 was humbling. I don't know if we'll make it to the site of the towers; I had been in them just nine months before, and still can't believe what happened.

We walked around until we spotted some place that claimed to have the "best pizza under the bridge." I normally don't care for thin crust pizza, but the double pepperoni with basil pizza at The Brooklyn Diner was outstanding! I was so full, I didn't even bother with ordering dessert (I know, that just doesn't sound right, does it?). I heard a song in the background, one that Austin plays that always makes my eyes water, so I sent him a quick text to tell him he was on my mind. I know this is a business trip, but I really wish he had been able to come along with me. I think we would have had fun exploring the city.

As it was, I had Phil, who knows my great love of chocolate, and in particular, peanut M&Ms. So he took me to my mecca... M&Ms World in Times Square. Three floors of every product imaginable. They even had M&M dispensers in every color imaginable and charged by the pound. It was hard to resist, but I did it. I wanted to get a souvenir, but I didn't see me wearing a T-shirt any other time, and although I'm wishing I had brought some with me since it is so much warmer than I thought, I don't really want to stand out as the tourist in my conference. So I walked out, and we went across the street to the Hershey store, which was quite the let down; only one floor compared to three at M&Ms World.

After a full evening, we headed back to the hotel to get some rest. After all, we do have to be in a worshop at 9 am, so we can't stay out too late tearing up the town. I will say I was amused to see a group of young men holding signs that said "Free Hugs" as well as Elmo, Mickey and Pooh on several street corners working for tips. I guess the recession has hit harder than we thought.

Turning a Pet Rescue Holiday Greeting Card into a Political Statement

2009-11-12T15:23:00.009-05:00

It never ceases to amaze me how someone can look at something so simple and innocent and turn it into a political message.

I am originally from Austell, GA, but I always claim Tybee Island as my home. It's where I spent most of my childhood, learned the greater lessons of life, and became part of an amazing community. I was active as a volunteer for the Tybee Beautification and volunteered my time with the Tybee Island Lighthouse as well as Tybee Island Marine Science Center in high school. When I started Coastal Pet Rescue, it was no surprise that the first supporters were from Tybee. It's just the kind of community we have on the island.

Fast forward a few years. A local artist contacts me with a great fundraising idea for the holidays. We have been struggling hard because of the economy this year, and her idea helps us fill an need brought to us by a couple of other supporters as well. So Debbie Brady Robinson of Atlantic Beacon Gallery set out to create a holiday gift card that could be sold in sets of 10 with 50% of the profits going to Coastal Pet Rescue. The artwork features a sleeping kitty and puppy on the beach. Kitty is wearing sunglasses, puppy has a beach ball. It's a warm and fuzzy card, and something similar to what I buy each year myself.

So we sent out an email blast with the photo and link to the website for people to purchase the cards (only $10). An hour later, here's an email I get from a friend on Tybee Island:

Lisa, I’m simply forwarding this message to you as an FYI…..

From: email protected by my friend
Sent: Thursday, November 12, 2009 2:31 PM
To: email removed to protect the messenger
Subject: Coastal Pet Rescue

"Did you notice Lisa's new slogan? I think she's making a major mistake to take on this political issue and could lose the support of many people. As you know I have dogs and am a dog advocate but am more concerned about health and safety of my children and other animals, our bird population, clean water quality & beach preservation than having my dogs be able to walk on a leash at the beach. I hate to see the new council having to deal with the issue of dogs on the beach issue once again, when they will already have huge hurdles to address as they take office."

I have three issues here:

1. This is a greeting card, not a slogan. Our slogan is "Changing Lives... One at a Time."

2. Why is kitty in the image allowed to be on the beach, but not the dog. Isn't that discrimination?

3. Where in the world would I find time to create a subliminal political message, especially when there are fewer than 30 members on our email list from Tybee Island?

While I am often proud to say I'm from Tybee, here is one of the times that it hurts me to say so. Our little island gets so consumed by politics. Right now, there's a movement to try and get city council to allow dogs on the beach as other beaches in Georgia do. I have not spoken publicly, on my blog or anywhere about my feelings for or against this movement. I personally do not take my dogs to the beach; it's just my personal preference. But I am all for anything that helps strengthen the animal-human bond, which this group of supporters seems to be trying to accomplish. (And kudos to the Dogs on the Beach organizer who has done a lot of research on regional beaches that do allow pets to have some facts backing up his movement rather than just personal preferences.) Since I no longer live on the island, I really have no vote, and will have to abide by whatever is decided, whether it be by council or by city vote. Hopefully, some sort of compromise can be reached to satisfy both sides.

I would be lying if I didn't say that losing support from Tybee Island residents for our great organization dedicated to helping homeless pets because we allowed a greeting card to be made featuring a kitten and puppy on the beach didn't leave me heartbroken. But if that is really their deciding factor, then that is a shame.

So, to the original writer of the email, I'm sorry you were so offended by the holiday cards, but I am not going to ask the artist to change them. We are so thrilled someone wants to help us provide food and veterinary care to the animals in our program and be part of the solution.

So to all the rest of you, go buy these cards! We need your support now more than ever!

Coastal Pet Rescue Announces CoastalPetRescue.org 6.0

2009-11-04T12:04:00.000-05:00

Getting in front of potential volunteers, donors and adopters just got a little easier for Coastal Pet Rescue.

For six years, the driving force of Coastal Pet Rescue’s adoptions and volunteer management has been their website, CoastalPetRescue.org.

“We don’t have a brick and mortar shelter, so we have to have a good way for people to find our adoptable pets,” says Lisa Scarbrough, Coastal Pet Rescue president and founder. “Our website is open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, and is what yields 90% of our adoptions each year.”

After six years, Scarbrough, who also works full time as a web developer and webmaster for Paula Deen Enterprises, decided it was time for a change. Development began back in April, and the new site was fully released today.

“Our website may look the same, but we’ve updated the software and made it more social media friendly,” says Scarbrough.

The site is now running on Expression Engine software, which Coastal Pet Rescue adoption managers have found easier to use for adding and updating new pets and information.

User feedback over the last year led Scarbrough to create separate pages listing canines and felines for adoption.

“Potential adopters now have a choice directly on the homepage to link to a full list of cats or a full list of dogs,” says Scarbrough. “The listings page now shows more information about each pet much like a roster to help families narrow down their choices.”

CoastalPetRescue.org now also features two RSS feeds, one for their latest news and one for newly added pets. Both feeds also automatically send out tweets so anyone following the organization on Twitter will see the updates.

Volunteers now have a more dynamic message board to help them plan and execute the organization’s events, and the site’s Frequently Asked Questions has had a complete overhaul with categories and more answers to help visitors more immediately.

“It’s been six months of hard work, both from the development side of the site as well as reorganizing and adding content,” says Scarbrough. “But ultimately, it was a change we needed, and I think visitors will be impressed.”

For more information, visit coastalpetrescue.org.

Founded in February 2003, Coastal Pet Rescue is an all-volunteer 501(c)(3) non-profit animal rescue organization based in Savannah, Georgia dedicated to saving the lives of homeless, abused and neglected dogs and cats in the Creative Coast Savannah and Lowcountry South Carolina areas.

Remembering 9/11 Eight Years Later

2009-09-11T11:01:00.001-04:00

This morning, I caught my buddy Dutch Dooley talking on his Kix 96.5 radio show about the mixed emotions for him today. He knows it is a day of sadness for so many, and it should be a day we don't forget. But it is also his son's first birthday.

When I got up this morning, it had not dawned on me that it was 9/11. I was saying my blessings for the new home and family I now have, enjoying the sunshine. As soon as I turned on the radio, a tribute was playing on 102.1 with all the voices and soundbites of that day. I went from joyous to somber and began to feel the moisture in my eyes. I waited for the tribute to finish before channel surfing to find someone else talking about that day. It's eight years later, and I still long for that connection on this day that we all seemed to have with those around us, even if we didn't know them.

I'm only 30 years old, but I can remember every single detail of that day. Again, it was a day for confused emotions. I was in the middle of planning my wedding, starting my last semester at college, preparing for interviews for jobs after graduation. I remember jumping in the truck to drive to campus, and all the radio stations were just talking. The Cumulus stations had all linked up with Ben and JT and some others trying to describe the events as they were happening. It was utter chaos. So much was happening. It seemed I was the only person on I-16 that morning. I arrived to campus in shock. Georgia Southern is a big school, but you could have heard a pin drop. TVs were out in the hallways, students just stared in silence at the screen. A couple of classmates were from NY and were outside frantically trying to get through to their families, but all the cellular services were jammed. We had a family member at the Pentagon we couldn't reach. We would later learn he just missed the plane going through his office all because his secretary was out sick and he had to return his tray back to the cafeteria himself.

Classes were canceled for the rest of the day, yet people still lingered. I couldn't tell you the names of more than two people who were in that hallway with me, but it was a moment we all shared. It seemed safer to be around others. For the first time in my life, I took comfort in the surrounding of strangers.

I can remember the surge of American pride in the days that followed. Every store sold out of flags for homes and cars, we wore buttons and pins. We were really, truly united. Eight years later, I wonder what happened to all that. One massively, tragic event made most of us forget our own selfishness and consumption of our individual lives and instead get to know our neighbors and do whatever we could in support of our country.

So on this day of remembrance, I challenge you to not only remember those who lost their lives on that tragic day, or those who have been serving our country to protect us, but to also remember your sense of unity with fellow Americans. Take the time to say hello to a neighbor, get to know a co-worker better, or do one random act of kindness for someone you don't know. I promise it won't kill you, and it actually just might make you stronger.

To the Dooley family, I wish you all the happiness as you celebrate this momentous day with your beloved son.

Major Food Donation from Purina and the Kindness of Others

2009-08-27T17:16:00.000-04:00

My eyes are actually watering right now as I write this. I am just so overwhelmed at the kindness of others to act quickly.

It was a last minute offer that left us scrambling, but thanks to the Internet, it all came together!

As a Rally to Rescue Ambassador for Purina Pro Plan, we are often offered free items, such as T-shirts and twice a year receive about 20 bags of dry adult dog food. We are always so grateful for the donations as it leaves us more money for other things.

On August 21st at 9:55 am, we received an unusual offer to obtain a large amount of free dog and puppy food. The catch was we had to place the order by 3 pm that day and guarantee someone we could pick it up early the following week. We could make a request of the numbers of bags and items we wanted, but would not be guaranteed a specified amount. The plant was located in Atlanta, and the offer too good not to try, so I placed the order and relied on faith.

On Thursday, August 27, I received an email that our order had been approved for 110 bags and ready for pickup. Sadly, it was a day after one of our other board members had already left the Atlanta area. I contacted our media partners, and within minutes Alice Massimi of WSAV had posted it on her Twitter. A short while later, Katrine Trantham, Director of Recruitment for SCAD, emailed me that she had read about our request, was already in Atlanta and would be happy to fit what she could in her car to come back home. I was thrilled! All that was left was to get a second driver.

Once again, the Internet came to the rescue. Someone responded via a Facebook post. Margie Jaques, who had already been an angel in getting us set up with office space, offered to drive, but lacked a large-enough vehicle. She called and priced rental trucks, and we determined it would cost us nearly $300 plus gas in rental fees. Then she suggested we try a dealership. I immediately thought of Savannah Toyota.

Savannah Toyota's general manager Chris Hafer has done for us in the past. Just earlier this year, he sent two of his guys to pick us up a donated chest freezer and deliver it for us to have a safe, sanitary place to store donated food. Again, he didn't disappoint. Margie was so excited to call and give me the news. Chris offered to loan us a cargo van and a full tank of gas at no cost, and insisted, "just bring it back empty; we'll take care of it." I was in tears when I hung up the phone.

Margie and her obliging husband Jon will travel to Atlanta tomorrow to get the remaining food, and we will have less of a burden in providing food for our foster pets.

It never ceases to amaze me what can happen if people just try and others offer up their time. So to all these angels who made this food donation possible, we all say THANK YOU!

Facebook: Insight and Validation for Free

2009-07-29T11:53:00.002-04:00

I can't tell how many times I've heard people say Facebook is a time waster, Twitter is pointless, no one cares what you have to say, etc. Those who know me know I wholeheartedly disagree. And here's why.

A year ago, I joined Facebook. I had never been really keen on Myspace, particularly because of all the spam. But with Facebook, I was instantly connecting with people I already knew, and able to connect with people they knew that I wanted to know. But what really made the difference was being able to connect with these folks on a personal level. While many people might think the status updates are ridiculous, for others, it's a way to connect. If I have a question and need an answer, I post it, and I'm amazed at the responses, and, occasionally, I'm able to help someone else. I've been able to build relationships with people more than I could in five minutes at a networking event. Don't get me wrong, I don't think social networking could fully replace face-to-face networking, but it does allow the opportunity to pick and choose those relationships that can be more mutually beneficial rather than just going through a stack of business cards.

I heard on the radio yesterday a quote from Dierks Bentley (thanks Dutch): "Country music is the best therapy that you can buy for $15." For me, I'd have to say Facebook is the best therapy you can get for free.

This morning, I read a post from a family friend, Micheal Elliot. For those of you who don't know Micheal, he's the director of Union Mission here in Savannah. I've had the great fortune of knowing him since I was a kid as I went to school with his children on Tybee and at St. Vincent's. Michael has done such great work and inspired his staff and volunteers so well that the organization has been the recipient of several awards and major grants that allow them to provide much-needed services to our community. But it was his personal insight this morning that really struck me:

"Yesterday I was told that I am a very polarizing figure. 'People either love you or hate you,' he said.... I've heard some claim they are upset because Union Mission continues winning grants or awards and which they feel should be theirs."

While I hate that such an inspiring man would be concerned over this, I felt that my thoughts on this exact same subject had been validated. I have sacrificed so much for CPR, and my volunteers have given all they have to help us succeed as much as possible. We've won awards, received media coverage, and even been named as the top ten rescues in the country by Purina a couple years ago. And while that's great, it hasn't gone without backlash, sometimes in the form of gossip, other times posted outright online, particularly on Craigslist. And even though I was raised to rise above those things, it still hurts.

It was not his intention in his post this morning, but Michael offered me some therapy. He has allowed me to be a part of his social network, and in turn, allowed me to benefit from his insight. As the leader of a non-profit organization, it's not easy to find others in the same position that will have the same feelings. While our organizations are different in size, funding, and the services we provide, our personal thoughts and concerns are not. Having that validation really does make a difference, and maybe will help make me a better leader.

So thank you to Micheal, and all my other friends on Facebook who take the time to post your thoughts and allow me the opportunity to better myself. Perhaps one day, I can return the favor.

Donors, You DO Make a Difference

2009-06-26T10:38:00.001-04:00

It's been a little while since I've written anything. I spend more time doing microblogging with Twitter and trying to stay on top of so many activities. But something really struck me this week, and I just had to share.

This last year and a half has really seen a downturn in our donations from individuals and businesses. So much so that I only check our mailbox every other week anymore. It's caused us to decrease the number of intakes each month, and I'm paying more out-of-pocket expenses for food and miscellaneous supplies. It's sad for me to have to say no day in and day out to people sending us information on pets needing our help. But I see that the guilt is not only on my end; donors feel bad, too.

I checked our mailbox on Monday to find three pieces of mail. I didn't open them, I just stuck it on the passenger seat in the truck and headed back to the office. Like I always do, I put the mail on my desk to be sorted through during my "office hours" on Sunday. But last night, for whatever reason, I decided to go ahead and open a few letters. I was ecstatic to find a few donations, but saddened at the same time to read the accompanying notes:

"I'm really sorry it couldn't be more. You all do such great work."

"I appreciate all you did to help me find my dog. I know it's not much, but maybe one day I can send more."

The donations were $25 and $10 respectively, and I couldn't have been more grateful. I have been down the road a few times where I couldn't even find $10 to put gas in my car to make it to work (back when it was under $1 a gallon). For these people who are obviously struggling themselves to still find a way to help others, it just absolutely warms my heart.

In a day when I see 20 Twitters a morning about stopping at Starbucks and knowing what that costs, then thinking what these donors have sacrificed to help our pets, I can't help but feel admiration for them. It may have seemed like such a small amount to them, but it really matters a lot to me.

So to those donors, I say thank you, not only for helping us to help our pets, but for reminding me that every little bit really does make a difference.

Love Hurts

2009-05-08T01:16:00.001-04:00

Especially when you are trying to give love to something so incredibly neglected.

Tonight I learned a very valuable lesson: you can't save them all. I've always been optimistic about helping animals, especially with cases like Georgia and Hope. And I want to help out people who are so good to me, which is why when I got the call from a good friend asking for help, I agreed. We were out of space, and out of money, but I figured I could find a way to make things work. Sadly, I think I've found the end of that.

I agreed to take a dog. Unfortunately, I did not have the whole truth about the dog's past or medical history. Neither did she. I discovered it in bits and pieces starting at 6 am and going until 6 pm.... when I was bit in the face trying to do nothing more complicated than attach a leash to a collar. The pain brought me to my knees... at which point I discovered just how badly I was bitten. I was lucky two other volunteers were around to help out, and Hannah and DaVinci rushed to protect me as I walked in the house.

A quick lookup on the net gave me a number for the nearest immediate med. I called, explained I'd had an accident in my yard and needed stitches. They were open till 8, so I got ready to leave. Amanda helped bandage me up with some gauze to hold in place for the drive. I helped Josh corral the dog back into his kennel as best we could, where we discoverd he had torn apart a lot of the chainlink on the kennel that was just constructed on Sunday. So much for gratitude.

I got in my truck and headed to the doc. I prepared the story in my head. I didn't want to admit what happened, as I knew the fate, but I also knew that I could never trust this dog to not hurt someone else. I knew what he had done to me, but what about a child?

I had already texted our vet to let her know what had happened and get her take, and she agreed with me that considering the pain the dog was already in from his physical state, humane euthanasia would be the best alternative. She agreed with another board member that we would give the former owner the opportunity to take the dog back with a signed agreement and a formal report filed on the issue.

So as I laid (grammar nazis, have at me) stretched out on the table getting incredibly long needles stuck in my face to numb the area, I thought about my situation. I had indications first thing this morning that the dog was going to be an issue, but kept putting it out of my mind, saying he was just nervous and it wasn't his fault. It wasn't. This 95 pound dog had just a few patches of hair left on his body, was covered in sores, had fresh blood from scratching, and fleas still moving an hour after digesting a Capstar. This doesn't all just happen over night. He had only known two other people in his life, and at 4 pm today, it was admitted to me that he hadn't even seen a vet in three years. No wonder he looked so bad.

So five stitches and a dressing later (oh, and did I mention that my entire face wasn't numb, that I felt every little movement of the last stitch going in me?), I headed off to Walgreen's to get my antibiotics and pain meds. But my fun didn't stop there. Turns out my COBRA coverage was screwed up, so I had to choose which meds to get since I'm still on a tight budget from paying off my walking pnemonia bills in December. So of course I went for the antibiotics. I figured an infection would be even more painful later than what I was feeling now.

I'm fortunate enough to have people who care about me. Of course Austin was the second person I called after the incident, and he called to check up on me before he checked into bedtime. But it was my surrogate big sis that I ran to before going back home. I was angry and hurt, but couldn't cry as that caused more pain and would affect my stitches. Instead, we talked things out then set about contacting the previous owner. Luckily, she understood what had happened and that she was not in a position to take him back.

I wanted so badly to save this dog, turn his life around. But that want made me go against my instincts and cost me dearly (not to mention my entire evening, quite a bit of cash, and blowing my diet for the comfort food of Krispy Kreme as I awaited my prescriptions being filled). It was not his fault that his life did not turn out as planned. Perhaps his breeder should have cared to ask more questions of the family purchasing him. Maybe someone could have looked for help for him several years ago. There were a lot of failures along his way, and I accept my part as well. It is definitely a humbling experience as I re-evaluate what I'm doing and if I'm really saving them at all.

Reconciliation

2009-04-29T14:37:00.002-04:00

Back on April 1, I was contacted by a SMN reporter that had been reading up on Georgia from my Facebook page.

Lisa, I was just reading about Georgia and wondering to myself, "How are you not perpetually angry?"

I mean angry at the world. At every human being in it for how society treats other living beings. I'm sure you've seen much more horrendous things than poor little Georgia, yet you keep going back to help more pets.

As the religion reporter, I'm just curious how you do it!

Dana Felty

I wrote back to her. She mentioned that she might contact me in a week or so to do a story about it. So I held off writing the blog. Now that the story has been published, here's my response with a bit of elaboration.

Trust me, I get mad. But getting mad doesn't fix the problem. I've used my blogs and Facebook as an outlet to help me come to terms with a lot of things. If you ever see me in person (that seems rare for us), you'll notice that I always have two charms around my neck. One is the St. Francis of Assisi medallion, the other is a starfish. (They are severely tarnished because I wear it every day.) The starfish is the reason I keep going back. You can read the story here.

Believe me, I have cried many, many times behind closed doors. I have had many conversations and pleadings with God to make things better. But I still hold that God has a plan. While I'd like a few clues every once in awhile, or even a legend key for the map, I know it's something I have to discover on my own.

These animals touch my life in such a way that they always make me a better person. With Georgia, she helped me open my heart to love, and when I was least expecting it, I found it for myself. She is a survivor. She is willing to love and trust and go out in the world with her head held high. We should all be so fortunate. I think dogs like her really help to keep me in my place, remind me of my blessings.

I'll be honest, I'm seriously thinking of adopting Georgia myself so she will always be around to teach people. She has an amazing spirit, and touches everyone whoever meets her. (Side note: I will NOT be adopting Georgia; I have accepted my official pet limit as 3.)

I'm not a saint. I'm not anything special. I still don't know how this whole world of CPR grew to be what it is. God made it happen. I was just willing to go along for the ride and see what happens.

What is a typical day in the life?

2009-04-16T15:54:00.002-04:00

So Kelly asked me today to describe to her my typical day. Well, first off, there is no such thing in my world. But here's what I determined to be the best description:

Get up at 2 am to calm whatever puppy/dog is having a bad dream, got sick to their stomach, or needs cough medicine. Go back to sleep.

Wake at 4 am to take away whatever loud toy some puppy/dog is chewing since they woke up and can't go back to sleep.

Get up at 6 am to kick dogs out who have just been awakened by the neighborhood roosters that like to roam my property to the yard. Attempt to return to sleep for the next hour in between yelling at specific dogs to stop barking, play nice, or leave the back door alone and curse the rooster making noise right under my window. (A couple days a week, I have a volunteer that shows up in the morning and takes care of the dogs so I can get about an extra 30 minutes of sleep... if the dogs can be quiet that long.)

If this is a media day with WJCL (which I do twice a month), I'm up at 4 am to do my duties then clean up for the TV interview to be at the studio a little after 6 am. I return home by 7:20 am where I dump off whatever dog I took, splash some more water on my face, then head in to work early.

I crawl out of bed by 7 am to start feeding/administering medications for no fewer than 10 canines. Try to avoid newly-dug holes whereby dogs think they will be fed faster if they trip you and have you spill the food all over the ground as opposed to placing it neatly in their bowl. Ensure all water jugs are filled, which takes about 20 minutes per jug since we have a pipe leak somewhere. Remarkably, the dogs have yet to find it in all their excavations.

By 7:45, go to bathroom, wash off whatever dirt, mud, slober has been thrust upon me. Make myself presentable as much as possible to head to work as webmaster at Paula Deen Online.

Spend my lunch break returning phone calls and emails, usually someone needing to move, just had a baby, or just met the love of their life and can't possibly deal with all that and a dog.

Leave work between 4:30 and 5. Most days, the drive home means returning phone calls, where conversations are never done in 5 minutes or less. It also includes a stop off to purchase dog/puppy food, puppy pads, cleaning supplies, or whatever the dogs need. Inevitably, the trip is lengthen as whoever is checking me out always has to make a comment about why I have 100 pounds of dog food, 20 rolls of papertowels, and a few gallons of bleach. I throw in a bag of M&Ms to make myself feel better and get on my way.

Arrive home. Four days a week, I have the treat of having another volunteer on site to repeat the duties, but there's always more for me to do. This past week, I had to make stops each day to pick up new mulch for the kennels since the storms washed it all away and turned them into swamps. So I get out of my work clothes, put on my scrubs, and head to work. This takes a few hours usually, and always ends up turning my skin and clothes a completely different color.

On other days, I may have an event to go to for work. Which means I'll get home pretty late. And still other days, I attend business networking after-hours functions to remind people we need sponsors to help care for these pets. And still other other days, I may be running a pet to a vet visit, or heading to do an adoption interview.

Once I'm settled at the house, I head into my office to start on our paperwork and respond to emails. There are lots of records to be kept, adoption packs to be made, bills to be paid, and thank you notes to be written to donors, sponsors, anyone who might have even been nice to me that week.

On an average day, I'm in bed no earlier than 11:30 pm. But I take my laptop to bed to finish up whatever I was working on in the office, so really, it's more like 1 am when I get to "sleep."

And if you are curious about my weekends...

Most all our weekends are filled with adoption or fundraising events. The third Saturday of each month, we do an adoption day at Petco in Bluffton. This means I'm up by 7 to perform daily duties for the dogs, then load the truck for the event, drive over, and set up to be ready to show pets by 11 am. I'm there until 4 pm, then drive home, unload the truck, tend to the dogs, and make the deposit ready from whatever donations we may have received.

Some Saturdays, I teach Pet First Aid and CPR for the Red Cross. That only takes up four hours of my Saturday. Other Saturdays, I drive to Hinesville or Springfield to pick out animals from their animal control for adoption. I try to take Saturday evenings for myself, spending time with Austin or my family or both.

Sundays are work days at the ranch. This is when we host youth volunteers, community service workers, whatever. We do dog baths, take photos of new pets (oh yeah, guess I forgot to mention that during the week I also pick up animals on my way home from work to come into CPR), work on the kennels, whatever needs to be done. This is also when I work on the content for our newsletter that Heather sends out each month and try to sort through and clean up the 3,000 emails I might have received that week (that is not a joke; I just did that this past Friday and it sucked!). I also spend this time writing my column for the Tybee Breeze, my blog, and other sites where I contribute content online.

Some weekends, I also work for my job. On Sunday, I will be leaving at 5 am to drive to Atlanta for a cooking show where Paula is going to be. I don't even have a clue as to what time we'll be home.

But then again, what is "typical" anyhow?

A Hard Working Woman Working Hard for The Lady

2009-03-31T21:31:00.003-04:00

By now, most of you know I have changed jobs after more than 7 years. I'm still in web development, but I'm now with THE Lady of Savannah... the one and only Paula Deen. I'm the newest webmaster in the Paula Deen Online family and boy, what a family!

While I still haven't gotten my commute completely figured out, I have already noticed so many other changes. Since I have such trusting and dedicated ranch hand volunteers, I'm able to not worry about rushing home. I even have time to spend with my personal dogs now, something that had been incredibly short most all other nights until recently. My stress level has dropped drastically, and I just overall feel like a better person. This is a company that wants to see its employees grow and succeed, and I'm so privileged to be a part.

All that said, I do have one gripe: I know NOTHING about cooking. I have one recipe that I do on a grill, and only for special occasions. But no way would I ever dare put it in front of The Lady. I spent the last two days pouring through the recipes on the website, and even got to select those that appeared on the front page this week and their categories. You'll notice my favorite treat, Brownies, are all listed. Of course, those were the first ones I hunted. I next chose two categories I thought I might stand a chance at making without too much fuss, so we have chilled drinks (which Phil made me change to Party Potions) and fruit-based salads I called Fruity Salads (yes, I'm that creative). But I noticed as I was going through that some of these have a cook time of 8 hours, good grief! While I might think my patience has gotten better as I've gotten older, sadly my willingness to wait to eat has not. When I come home, if I'm gonna cook, it better take 30 minutes or less. That's all I'm giving. Luckily enough, I found several recipes that can be done in half that time (tune in later this month to see them). So there may be hope for me yet, even if I am still waiting for the Paula Deen Cooking for Dummies book (no, it's not in the works, just an idea I think I need for me).

I had never imagined just how much takes place behind the scenes. Let me tell you, it's rarely quiet in the building and there is ALWAYS something to do. But that's a good thing as I need the job security!

Now I'm not privy to any special secrets or information, so please don't ask. In fact, I've only once briefly met Paula Deen in a roundabout way at The South Magazine party last year when her niece was named hottest bachelorette and CPR was named Top 5 Non-Profit Changing the World. I only know from the stories I hear that she and the boys are just as gracious a Southern family as you would imagine. I'm very blessed to have been recruited to join their team.

And, for the record, I've been saying "Y'all" since I was a little tyke, so don't go saying I learned it just to fit in!

Georgia's First Day with the Media

2009-03-12T15:08:00.001-04:00

There's no question how much I love dogs, particularly my rescue dogs. So when Georgia came to me, it became apparent she had so much to teach people. So I scheduled an appearance with WJCL to appear with her on their morning show. Being that I'm not a morning person, this is a big deal for me, meaning I'm up at 5 am. Sure, if you're military, that's nothing, but I have Tybee Bum in my blood, and I despise being up before the sun. Georgia, on the other hand, had no problem whatsoever getting up and going for a car ride. She's finally learned to get herself in and out of the rescue mobile without my assistance. She always sits happily just behind my seat, her head resting as close to my shoulder as possible.

The drive in was very peaceful, though odd as I could still see the full moon. I wasn't 100% sure how she would react to a TV studio, but she was a natural. Through our walks each day, Georgia has learned to love the attention of other people. Since the WJCL set is in transition, I would have to sit at the anchor desk while Lyndy held her beneath us. I was in her line of sight the entire time, but it didn't matter. The cameras, the lights, nothing phased her so long as she had someone's hand on her making her feel special.

She seemed a little reluctant to leave, already feeling like a star. We drove home and arrived in time enough for me to take a nap before having to get up and go into the office. Georgia would have a good long rest before her next media appearance that evening.

We arrived at JF Gregory right around six. Georgia knows this place well, and immediately started pulling me like a sled towards the path we walk. She braved the swarms of gnats to roll around in the grass while the photographer from the South Magazine snapped shot after shot. At the end of the hour, we walked to a different part of the park, where Georgia drew the attention of a very famous dog.

Barley, the Budweiser Dalmation, decided he had found a new playmate. Georgia did not know what to think. We watched as this dog ran into the middle of our photo shoot, stared at Georgia, then flopped over onto his back and barked. Georgia just stood there. We have worked at getting her comfortable around other dogs at the ranch, but she hasn't once played. Barley didn't know this. He would jump up, bark, run around Georgia, then flop down on the ground again and wait for her to do something back. About the eighth time, she finally took her paw and swatted at his snout. Barley took it as a sign that she was ready to play. He ran around her, sniffing, play biting her leg, till she finally gave in and did something back. For about ten minutes we watched Georgia interact with Barley as if reconnecting with a long-lost friend. I was so proud, I almost cried. Nothing could make me happier than seeing her smile.

Welcome Home, Georgia

2009-03-03T22:04:00.002-05:00

The bed has an unusual smell and silly patterns on it. But it's soft under her frail body. Within 20 minutes of her arrival and placement into a crate, Georgia has curled up into a ball and settled in for a nap.

Anyone who knows me knows I love Huskies. It's been the hardest thing to turn them away the last few months since we have no more room, but it is a sad fact of our world right now. But when I got the photos of Georgia two days ago, there was just no way I couldn't open up one more kennel space for her.

The email came through to me as "Husky In Need" from a fellow rescuer. She assured me that I was under no obligation to take the dog on, knowing she was going to need a lot of care. But that has become our specialty. All I could see in the photos was some group of fur. All the huskies I've ever known were proud dogs, always had their heads high, smiles almost back to their ears. This dog had her head down, almost ashamed at her pitiful appearance. I was assured she had someone to foster her, so we just needed the financial backing. I agreed. I knew it was a bad thing when I got a personal email from the vet, outlining all her problems. So I decided, given all the care she is going to need, and the length of time it was going to take, to bring her out to the ranch. So I picked her up from Tybee after my dentist appointment this afternoon.

I'm used to dogs pulling on leashes, but Georgia didn't know what was going on enough to realize she could pull if she wanted to. I opened up the truck door and put her inside. We were low on gas, so I stopped before leaving the island. I couldn't quite place the name for her. I thought of beach names since I picked her up from Tybee, but that wasn't her original home so it didn't seem to fit. Her coat reminded me of Georgia red clay... so Georgia it became. I got back in the car, turned to tell her we had a long ride home so she should get comfortable. I got a quick kiss on the face.

We drove home. I had so much on my mind... what was she going to do with the other dogs, would her fur ever grow back, what about the complications for having her spayed, what all was on the list Dr. Pam emailed me. True, we could treat more dogs with fewer conditions for what she's going to cost us, but is that really fair? We just went bankrupt on the litter of puppies from the cardboard box that had parvo. In what we do, there is never a sure thing. Even "owned" dogs come to us with issues. No one's perfect.

When we arrived to the ranch, I got the camera out to take photos. The sunlight hit her coat perfectly, but it also made it easier to show all her baggage: missing fur, permanent scars, skinny frame. All this in just two years just so she could make a profit for someone. Sadly, Georgia is not atypical for backyard breeding dogs. We've seen lots of them come through. Luckily though she is eager to be touched and petted and give her kisses to anyone who will accept them. We found the only can of adult food as she has only a few teeth that need root canals and can't really chew. She hasn't even touched her food. I'm hoping she will realize that we will always feed her and make sure her belly is full. But I know from experience, these things take time.

In an attempt to soothe her rough skin, I gave her a bath with some medical shampoo tonight that does a lot to help stop itching. Like most dogs, Georgia was not keen on the idea of a bath. I knew she had one over the weekend, but it was probably her first one ever. Part of using the medicated shampoo is that it has to sit on the skin for 10 minutes. I had forgotten my cell phone, so I decided I'd sing a few Jimmy Buffett songs to pass the time. I didn't have a radio, but knew plenty by heart. After five songs, I figured she'd suffered enough and ran the water again. The sudden sound made her jump... right over my shoulder. I caught her mid air before my back hit the toilet behind me. The floor needed a good scrubbing anyway, so the suds everywhere didn't hurt anything. We finished the bath, and she tolerated the blow dryer. By tolerated I mean she tried to run through my legs and out the door but I caught her and held her like my own thighmaster.

I put her back in her crate. As if I hadn't tormented her enough, I had to now give her eye medication and a capsule. Normally, I'd put the pill in a treat and give it to the dog. No, instead, Georgia mouthed around the treat part, trying to figure out how to eat it without the pill. It wasn't pretty. Apparantly, she also decided she no longer wanted to smell like cucumber and spent 30 minutes trying to like off the smell until she wore herself out and crashed.

It's my hope that as we work with Georgia, people will become more educated about what happens to the dogs used to produce those cute little puppies at the flea markets and in the classified ads. Maybe one day we can actually stop the cycle.

We All Need Those Feel-Good Moments

2009-02-21T21:36:00.003-05:00

**ADVISORY: This blog took a bit more time than usual... over an hour and a half since I got engrossed in the moving Taking Chance (incredible, be sure to watch with tissues or a sweatshirt handy). It's a normal Lisa diatribe, but maybe a few bits here and there worth something.**

Anyone who knows me, or knows of me, by now knows that I don't have a typical day from one to the next. Not that I know anyone who really does, but my life tends to stay on the merry go round. Sometimes I can set my own pace, other times, I'm at the mercy of the playground bully. Some days, I just have to close my eyes and hang on as tight as I can, and pray I can stand up straight enough to kick him when I get off.

Last night, I got to play Dress-Up Barbie. I was invited as a guest of Memorial Health to their table at the Addy Award (big kudos to them for winning a gold for their trauma funding video documenting reactions from Memorial's workers during the Imperial response). I am always nervous about these types of events. For the most part, I'm not a glamorous person. I prefer flip-flops, tank top and shorts. So when Lisa told me I was going to have to go formal, I freaked. I didn't get a chance to even look in my closet until 11 pm on Thursday. I had two choices, only because I've had to do it two years ago, twice in one year.

I was able to get a sitter for the dogs so I could just leave from work and go to the soiree, but it meant taking my clothes, makeup, brush and all that jazz with me to work. At 5, I asked my co-worker if she needed in before I changed, and in I went. If only there was a way our bathroom worked like Superman's phone booth. Twenty minutes later, I came out, and surpised the heck out of my boss. The dress was a little big, but I had it tight as I could. But as much as I startled him, I figured it wasn't bad.

I drove down, and walked in to the event. I was early, way early. And without a date. But, afterall, it's a Savannah event, and a few short moments later, I found my way to some friends.

The evening was fun, thanks in part to a dinner companion with as twisted a sense of humor as I have. And the food was worth all the dress up: lobster, filet mignon, and decadent brownies.

I headed home, exhausted, but still had to finish getting everything ready for our big event in Richmond Hill. We had to cancel the Bluffton event. Those are hard to staff most months anyhow, so I think folks were relieved to not have to make the drive. I got so busy working, I forgot I was still in a cocktail dress, until Hannah started batting at it.

Around 1 am I finally crawled into bed. Just like clockwork, Cookie (aka Samoa) woke at 2 to go potty. I had forgotten to take her out before I went to bed. My mistake, not hers, and I was paying for it in the cold.

Mornings always come too soon at the ranch. But for the last two months, I've been blessed to have two fabulous ladies take over my morning duties so I can catch a little extra sleep before work. Saturday mornings on event days are the worst; I'm usually by myself and have to get up extra early to get the dogs out, fed, cleaned up, and put in crates for our travels to whatever event plus play Tetris with the rescue-mobile before heading out, usually at 9 am.

So like most mornings, I got up, stepped on Vinnie's tail since he had changed the way he was facing since we went to bed, grabbed my robe and proceeded along my task list. By 8, I was somewhat dressed, and by 8:30, reinforcements had arrived. What angels! We assembled the vehicles, got crates loaded, and headed down to the Hill. There's nothing quite like a day of doggies, and more importantly, we had been welcomed with open arms by another group. There were other rescues there, all sharing stories about dogs, asking about some of ours they had read about. I had gotten Purina to send down water bowls, samples and shirts for the event, so we distributed them out.

The day was great: four solid applications and 27 canines came through our microchip clinic, including a few that tried to take my hand off. I drove home, excited about the prospects for adoption, but tired as all get out. Tina, my constant angel, came back with me and stayed behind to take care of the pups and make sure everyone's crate was nice and clean. I went to the office to check emails and start on adoption packs. It was then that I got an email that just brought tears to my eyes.

Many of you remember Hope, our Carolina Dingo mix who came to us with an embedded collar. A friend of mine fell in love with her photo in December not long after her beloved Rottie had passed. She offered to foster Hope for us when she returned from the holidays. She did... and fell in love with her. This week, she decided she was ready to make the commitment. In my inbox today, I found the most heartworming letter I could have ever asked for. I'm giving just a sample here, but treasure every single word she wrote:

Miss Hope is full of surprises! She is a powerful teacher. I expected her to be broken down, tired, and old beyond her years. After two heart worm treatments, intestinal worms, an embedded collar, ears tattered by flies, dog attacks, and years of neglect and abandonment, that would seem reasonable. But Hope has defied all odds. She glides gracefully through the air at lightening fast speed as she runs laps around her new back yard! She is young at heart, vigorous, and charged with energy. Her ability to give and receive love is amazing. As I write our story, she is curled up next to me on the couch, radiating a calm peacefulness.

"We all have a past. It’s impossible to make a way in this world without hurtful experiences... Hope knows about what it means to heal, and forgive and forget, and to feel safe enough to accept love. She has a strong spirit. Both of my dogs have enriched my life. I will never forget Train. His death was the end of an era for me. As I look into the future with Hope, it seems that she is picking up where Train left off. She is teaching me what it means to find my own strength. We are both rescues."

What an amazing day. That was until I got further into my emails to read something that just set me off. Two months ago, a woman was denied adoption for one of our dogs. In that time, our adoption coordinators have changed, and due to people's crazy work and family schedules and my having to go back to work full time, we're not as on top of things as we used to be. We try, but we make mistakes. This person engaged me in a couple of emails about a dog that we would not be releasing for adoption until next week. I initially had her confused with someone else and told her that we had cancelled the app for lack of response to our phone calls or emails. Then this week she started hounding me about meeting up with the dog. The pup was in the process of being brought back to me as she was not being nice in her foster home. I know I've been long winded, so to shorten it up, I was not as detail-oriented to this woman's emails as I probably should have been. She asked us about our adoption days this weekend, I told her when they were but also told her that due to the dog's attitude, she probably would not be there as we like to create a harmonious environment as much as possible. Then late last night, we cancelled one event. So in the email I received, I was critized for not telling this woman that since the event was cancelled where else I would have the dog she wanted to see available. Let's try to remember that on our adoption applications it specifies that applicants meet the dogs once their application is approved. We cannot bring every single pet to every adoption day; we just don't have the manpower to do so. I had grown very tired of the emails. So I went through our archieves and found that she had originally been denied on January 7th and sent a notice. So I informed her of this, and again stated that we are an all-volunteer organization and apologized that she felt frustrated. This was what I got:

"Just because you are a volunteer does not excuse your poor performance. You keep beating that drum, but I never asked you to work for free. If I need to pay for your services, then speak up and tell me, but don't act like the world owes you something. If you don't want to do it, then quit!

If you are doing this for recognition or a pat on the back, the you are doing it for the wrong reasons. The ones that suffer are the pets that you could be placing instead of reminding everyone what great deeds you're doing.

If your true intent is to place an animal in a loving home, then put me in touch with someone who can actually help me. If not, quit wasting my time.

Thank you for your time and I hope you find the recognition you think you so richly deserve."

So as I was driving Duke to his new home tonight, I pondered that. What would life be like if I did quit? I could have the convertible I missed so much, probably live back on the water, maybe go grocery shopping on a more regular basis, heck I might even get back into cooking for myself (I know, it's a stretch, but it could happen). A friend of mine was kind enough to take my call during my reflection time, and I became so engrossed in conversation, I missed the directions from my GPS, which reminds me of a female version of Ben Stein. I abruptly hung up on him, anxious to get Duke into his home, for what I thought might be my last adoption.

I noticed the homes as I drove in. Lots of front porch lights on, clean neighborhood, two story homes. The kind of place I might live if I didn't have to have so much land for 99 dogs. I parked, flipped on the interior light to find my adoption stuff, then got out to get Duke and his carrier. I gave him a little pep talk, reminding him that he had been a street dog hanging out with the wrong crowd and this was the ticket to change his life. He did his little feet stamping thing, whined a little bit, then settled down. We walked up to the house (I felt a little guilty walking through their perfectly manicured lawn, trying to remember what it was like to have grass at home before the dogs took over landscaping duties), and rang the doorbell. I thought I heard a small dog, but didn't remember reading about them having a current pet on their application. Instead, it was their youngest daughter who immediately opened the door and stretched her arms to get him. Yes, he was going to have it made... three young girls to dote on him every waking moment of every day. It's what every dog deserves.

I joined the family in the living room, all of us on the floor to greet little Duke to his new home. Before I could open his kennel door, the oldest girl reached out and handed me something. "This is so you never forget him," she said. I looked down. In the few short hours since I had seen them at our adoption day, this young lady had taken great time to draw me the perfect picture of Duke, along with his new crown and cape and a food bowl that said "The King." She mounted it to yellow construction paper and wrote the words "Thank You!" all around it in different colors. It took all I had not to start weeping. If she only knew how badly I needed that.

We finished the adoption, said our goodbyes, and I drove home, happy to have the recognition I "so richly deserved."

Lisa the Grump

2009-02-19T11:30:00.000-05:00

We all have those off days. Yesterday didn't start out being one of them. I got to work, still missing staying home with the pups but thankful I still have a job, and settled in to work. No real pains to be dealing with first thing, which is always great. I took my truck over to Savannah Tire to have the tires checked. It's nice that they remember me, but even better that it was my first visit to not get a tire patched or replaced. I then headed over to Cha Bella to pick up my to go order, said hi to several folks I knew, chatted at the bar a little bit, and then headed back to work where I got to enjoy birthday cake for a co-worker's big day. All was well with the world. Well, until just after 5 pm.

I invited a friend of mine to join me for the travel to Ridgeland, SC. I was excited: we were going to pick up the new CPR trailer. It's nothing real special, but will be a huge help for us on event weekends and food pick ups. The travel over was relatively easy. We met up with Karen at Maranatha Farm, the rescue selling us their old trailer since they had a new one. She took us on a tour of the property. We watched the dogs play in their pond, and I met little Cookie (now Samoa). Since she was already vetted and recently returned by an adopter, I offered to take her back to CPR so Tori would have a playmate her size. Besides, she's adorable and would be adopted quickly, I was just sure of it. Then the time came to hitch up the trailer. I had just spent two hours with U-Haul the day before getting this $400 monster thing installed. Well, getting it on the ball wasn't so much the problem as having all the lights working. We discovered that not only was the right brake light out on the trailer, but if you turned your headlights on, the other brake light turned off. But that was ok, after all, we at least had the side lights on the trailer working, unless the headlights were turned off.

We were losing daylight so I said a few prayers and down the road we went. It was probably the only time I've ever gone under 60 MPH down I-95 without there being an accident on the road. I refused to get out of the right lane, especially since I was lacking a driver side mirror. I found exit 5, and was very thankful to get off the Interstate without any incident. Daddy had agreed to help out with fixing the wiring, so I just had to get the trailer safely to Tybee. Not a big deal, so long as I could navigate through downtown and not get pulled over, especially since we didn't have a trailer tag.

Around 8 pm we made it safely to the marina. It took me a little bit to get the hang of backing up the small trailer, but I was pleased. Not bad for my first time, although I had helped back boats in and out at the boat ramps, but this was my first time on my own. I thought we were in the home stretch. I was wrong. The trailer seemed quite content to stay attached to my truck, not understanding that this was to be its resting place for a few days. The more it hung on, the more frustrated I got. I was wearing steel toe tennis shoes and kicking that trailer with all my might, trying to bully it into letting go of my truck. It didn't happen. I called my daddy. I was told I could wait an hour for him to get home or go and find the jack and a hammer on the property. I hung up and started walking around, kicking rocks in frustration, scaring the feral cats around the building. By some miracle, my friend managed to get it off. I'm not going to ask how; I don't care. It was almost 9 pm, I hadn't had dinner, and I was cranky. I also had two small dogs in the car who were really ready to be done with their travels as well.

I headed off the island, stopping to check our post office box and say hi to Mom and thank Dad for offering to fix the wiring. Mom realized I hadn't eaten, and feeling sorry for me, put her fries into a napkin for me to eat on the way home. They were really good. I dropped my friend off at his car, then started down the home stretch.

The arrival home was relatively quiet. The dogs had been taken care of by Sara earlier in the evening, so I just had to let them out for their last time of potty. I settled in to answer emails, picking and choosing as i really just wanted to throw myself in bed. I grabbed a quick hot shower, then curled up with my Hitchiker's Guide, read one chapter and fell out. That was until the storms came.

Did you know that many puppies and small dogs hate storms? It's not new information, but when the howls and screams woke me in the middle of the night along with pounding rain and thunder, I was reminded. I tried talking nicely to them, reassuring them it was going to be fine. Hannah and Vinnie took advantage of the situation, wrapping around my legs and leaning into me for extra attention, even though I knew full well they weren't afraid of storms. I gave out as many chew treats as I could find and trudged my way back to bed, hoping to sleep at least two hours.

Despite the weather being so beautiful today, I would give anything to be back in bed, if just for a couple hours.

Sunday Night at Barnes and Noble

2009-02-15T20:21:00.000-05:00

I'm a geek. I have never had a problem admitting to that throughout my life. I taught myself computers, went to Georgia Tech during the summer in middle school, took Saturday classes, was in junior math my freshman year, exempted English in college, and would read four to five books a week for fun. As I've gotten older, I've found it's harder to find the free time, but somehow I do. Heck, I'd be in school again right now if it weren't for all those outstanding school loans (still waiting on my bailout).

Recently, I was sucked into the world of Sookie Stackhouse. Those of you who haven't read the books probably have at least seen or heard of her from the HBO series TrueBlood. There is no real reason for me to like her story so much. I grew up reading R.L. Stine and Christopher Pike, though was always turned off by vampire stories. I went to see Interview with a Vampire because it was a huge group outing in high school, but I had no interest in the Ann Rice books. But for whatever reason, I got religious about not missing an episode on Sunday nights. I actually went into withdrawal when the season ended. But I had rescue coming: my surrogate big sister got me the seven-book series for Christmas. It was great, except that now, instead of staying up until 1 or 2 am doing projects for the rescue, I was going into work hung over from reading till 3 or 4 am. I even ran out and bought book 8 in hardback and finished that in three nights and handed it off for someone else to read. I was once again a book addict.

For my birthday, two people gave me gift cards to B&N and Books-A-Million so I could purchase the next book in the series due out in March sometime. That's great, except now, I've gotten in the habit of reading at bedtime, and I had nothing to read. All my books that I love are still in storage at mom and dad's place because I have no real place to put them. (I usually read Pride and Prejudice, The Handmaid's Tale, and The Awakening once a year.) So after finishing my adoption around 6, I decided to head to B&N to spend one of my gift cards.

It takes me less time to get dressed and do makeup for an awards event than it does for me to pick out a book. I don't know why. Maybe it's a commitment thing: don't want to buy something and hate it. So I took myself down to the fiction aisle. It was swarming with new releases, mostly romance. Not really my thing. Maybe the reason I like the Stackhouse books is because of all the action. I do, afterall, prefer to see those when I go to the movies. So I started down the shelves. Just how many different times can you make a sequel off of Jane Austen novels? I think I counted 12, and they were from different authors. Sorry, but I just don't think anyone could capture me as much as she did for that genre. I kept browsing, squatting down, feeling the pain in my toes from my new boots (happily purchased on sale at Macy's last week), and trying not to care about the young girls squealing behind me about Twilight (yes, many of you are fans, but it just didn't do anything for me, sorry). I don't know what it was about these books, but everything was either a spin-off from a classic or something about a woman in her 40s or 60s trying to come to terms with life or get out of the murder of her husband/boyfriend/lover or husband/boyfriend's lover, etc. I could not find something that appealed to me: a 30-year-old animal lover, happy about not having children, living paycheck to paycheck, and rolling pennies for her Sonic habit (thanks Jake and Dan for contributing to my delinquency this evening - love those Mocha Java Chillers). So what author reaches out to my demographic? Apparently, none. But, I did find a nice compromise: Jimmy Buffett's Salty Piece of Land. What Parrothead couldn't be happy with that find? (But I was bummed to not find Swine Not.)

So I headed to the checkout, along the way finding a new release about a private investigator and his dog told from the viewpoint of the dog. Sounded good, and Stephen King gave a great review, so I grabbed it as well. But no trip to B&N would be complete without a run through of the Bargain section. This is where I pick up most of my dog and cat books, some great, some on sale for a reason. But there, completely out of place was one of my favorite classics. I debated... new mystery, or old friend? I was shopping on a gift card budget of $25, so I knew I couldn't have all three. (Besides, that's why there is half.com.) The geek in me won out, and I swapped out the tale of the pup for the classic The Complete Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.

I trotted along to wait in line, happy to be spending someone else's money on my habit, and proud of myself for not grabbing a frappucino during my spree. That was until I got to the register to hand over my gift card and discovered I had grabbed the one for Books A Million instead. Sigh. I had already committed myself to the books, I couldn't wait to get home to read them, so I shelled out the $37 and sulked out the door. I found redemption at Sonic down the street as I DID have my giftcard to there. Nothing better than a good book and chocolate on a dreary Sunday night.

Community Service: It Runs in the Family

2009-02-11T14:08:00.001-05:00

Most of you Tybee folks know my dad pretty well. For the rest of you, here's a small tale about Capt. Mike.

Growing up on Tybee, I was always known as "Mike's Daughter." It's something that I didn't really mind, but as I got older and traveled outside of the area, became quite a little quirk, and sometimes irritating that people couldn't remember my four-letter first name.

I chose to go to college six hours away from Savannah as I wanted my independence and to find myself. One weekend, I went on a camping trip to Cumberland Island. I had been gone for about six months at that point. On the ferry from St. Mary's over ot the island, I sat next to a guy who kept looking at me rather strangely. Finally, he asked where I was from. I said Tybee Island. Next question: "Are you Mike's daughter?" And I cannot count the number of times that has happened to me over the years, even once in an elevator in New York.

So why is my dad so well known? Well, the answer has changed a little bit over the years. He was originally known for being a troublemaker on Tybee, all because we were outsiders coming to start a business and increase tourism on Tybee. For the most part, that's water under the bridge. But my dad has always believed in giving back to the community. It's part of being raised a Catholic, something he instilled in me as a very young child. At Lent and Advent I was taught to save my change to give to children's charities. Mom and Dad would always match whatever I saved, making sure I knew they weren't just talk. I also worked in a soup kitchen, did other activities with the Girl Scouts, and later coached soccer for the YMCA as my dad had done for my brother, my sister, and me.

Once we moved permanently to Tybee, Daddy got involved with the Tybee Beautification Association, which meant I would, too - even if it did lead to my getting eaten alive by fire ants to discover I was actually allergic to them and had to have a note from my doctor to allow me to wear pants to school to cover my badly eaten legs. (From then on out, I always opted for the back river assignments instead of the dunes.) From there, he partnered with the county to take out underprivileged youth on our dolphin tours (he was even named Chatham County Citizen of the Year for that). Years later, Daddy got involved with the Shriners. He's always loved working with kids, and he's always believed in helping them as much as he can. He loves being able to tell the stories about the kids they are helping. In fact, I have a young cousin who is currently going through one of the Shrine's hospitals up north. Daddy keeps good tabs on her.

But yesterday, I got a surge of pride during my Leadership Savannah visit to the Savannah Impact Program (SIP). I never knew anything about this program. I had seen the building as I passed it on Drayton, but never thought much about it. Yesterday, I learned that one of their programs is to take in juvenile offenders and try to change their lives around. One of the ways is through a summer enrichment program. I was impressed with the presentation, and had made a mental note to talk to the guy afterward about having him meet up with my dad since we used to work with these programs regularly. But apparently, there was no need. A few moments later, I got to hear about how much wonderful support they get from Capt. Mike out on Tybee. A few laughs went up in the room, and I proudly raised my hand to say I was Mike's daughter.

I admit, I like that I have a name for myself now, and I chuckle to hear my mom tell me stories of him being asked if he's Lisa's dad. (Mom did make a comment last night about how "Poor ole mom is just in the background." We'll have to work on that I guess.) But times like that, I'm more than happy to sit back, and smile, and know that I am my father's daughter.

Please Understand, I'm Just a Volunteer

2009-02-10T19:44:00.000-05:00

Apparently, it's a state secret that I don't get paid for my work with Coastal Pet Rescue. Well, it's true. I'm just a volunteer. Granted, I put in around 80 hours a week, but I do work a full-time job, Monday through Friday, 9 to 5 as well. But that doesn't stop my phone from blowing up or emails piling up with people demanding a response and getting irritated when I don't reply immediately.

Take today for instance. I was unavailable all day for Leadership Savannah. I tried to handle things as best I could via text message, but that wasn't enough. I actually had several irate voicemails on my phone for not calling people back immediately. I forwarded messages to our vice president who stepped in for me as best she could. But it was frustrating to say the least.

Even as a volunteer, I'm on call pretty much 24/7. That really puts a crimp in my social life, if I had one. My cell phone is pretty much an electronic leash. Don't get me wrong, I love what I do, but with the good comes a lot of emotional heartache, much of which I'm forced to keep to myself in order to keep people calm and situations under control. But it doesn't mean I don't feel hurt. Just ask my vet how badly I feel, or how many times they have left me in a room to cry by myself. A long time ago, I had a teddy bear, Homer, that I cried into anytime something happened. Days like today I miss having him, but he pretty much "died" when I was 24 after soaking my tears since 5th grade.

Yes, this is the life I chose for myself, I get that. I just wish people could have a little patience and understand that I don't have all the answers, I can't solve every single problem; I'm just a volunteer.

I Think I'm Related to Murphy

2009-02-04T22:48:00.003-05:00

I left work today right at 5:00 pm. It is now 10:21 pm, and I'm just now sitting down to catch a breath. I had planned to be home hours ago, but as we all know, seldom do things in Lisa Land go according to plan.

I arrived home at 5:25, just in time to greet Sara, my Wednesday evening ranch hand. It has been so great having ranch hands for the last month. I'm actually in bed before midnight most nights as opposed to 2 am. We walked in the house and it hit me: I forgot to pick up Herbie from the vet on the way home. So back out I went. I arrived at the vet, luckily only a couple miles away, only to remember I was having a returned dog dropped off between 5:30 and 6. I shrugged and figured Sara would call me if there was a problem.

We left the vet almost right at six, along with some new meds for my vocally-endowed Poodle, who I might add has been here at the ranch since July 7th. We pulled in the drive just as soon as the other drop off. I ran inside, put Herbie up, ran out, grabbed Moo, found an empty kennel, and then set about packing the truck to relocate two foster pets to new foster homes. At 6:40 we were on the road to Hinesville. We made good time, leaving at just 7:15 to head to the other foster home on Isle of Hope.

I just about nailed my time frame at 8:15. Still not as good as our bus driver to Atlanta last week, but pretty darn good for me. I pulled into the driveway, got out of the truck, and heard a hissing sound. I wasn't sure exactly where it was coming from, so I went and got the dog out of her travel kennel and set to introduce her to her new foster brother. In doing so, I walked right past my truck again, and it hit me: my tire was going flat.

It's now 36 degrees, almost 8:30 at night. But luckily, I was at someone's home. I called Geico roadside assistance. I feel like I should know the voices on the other line by first name as often as I seem to call them. I relayed the problem, agreed that yes, I've had some bad luck with tires the last few months, and waited for Gordon's to arrive in 30 minutes or less (would have been great if they had a deal with Domino's as I was still hungry but now worried about my truck). We went inside to do the foster paperwork and see how the pups got along. About 9 pm, the tow truck showed up. I unlocked the cap from inside the car for him to access the spare tire. I stood shivering, but not balking as I've done this at least a dozen times before. He laughed and told me to go inside, he'd knock when it was ready. About 9:30, we heard a noise. I looked out the window to see the tow truck... driving off. I went outside, and sure enough, he drove around the block then off the isle. Well, at least my spare (which is a full size) was on the truck. Oh wait, the spare was also flat. Nice. I said my goodbyes to the pups and foster mom and limped on down to the BP. I found three quarters, shoved them in the air provider, then proceeded to bear through the chilly winds and inflate the tire, knowing that I was still a good half hour away from home.

I got in the truck, shook my head, and called Cat. Probably the only other person I know who is still up at this hour and could help me find some amusement in the evening. I was driving down Middleground when she realized I still wasn't home yet. It was almost 10 pm. I still had to get home, get another crate out of the shed and set it up to bring in the extra hounds that normally sleep outdoors. I already had a litter of puppies in the bathroom, and crates stacked in the kitchen. The last place left was the living room, which I had just reclaimed two days ago for the first time in about five months. Well, I don't really use the couches anyways, especially since one is broken in the middle.

So here I am, reflecting in my last moments of my 20s, drinking a Coke, and remembering that I have to be up at 5 am to do a 6:30 am appearance on WJCL's morning show. I think dinner is a lost cause at this point; maybe there will be better luck with breakfast.

There's Just Something about Savannah

2009-02-04T14:33:00.001-05:00

To anyone who hasn't lived here, it's hard to explain, sometimes, the reasons so many people never leave. I left for a couple of years of college, and ended up right back. I often thought of moving down to Florida (would always be south or west, never north), but never did. But my lunchtime today is a big reason why.

It's cold today. No doubt about it. I hate cold, that's why I live here. All I have thought about since I got to work is hot cocoa (which I grabbed at McDonald's after fueling up this morning) and hot food. I saw someone mention chili on Facebook, and of course, now I wanted some. I usually head to Wendy's. The chili is good, but most of all, fits my budget. I thought it might be nice to have an alternative, so I called Bunny to see what Cha-Bella had soup-wise. I wasn't 100% that's what I wanted, but why not give the place a chance, after all, they are hosting my fabulous birthday suaree this Sunday (6 to 8 pm, Trainwrecks go on at 7 pm, in case you missed the event notification).

I arrived at Cha-Bella and was immediately greeted with a hug, not from Bunny but Susie, the young blond who had often been my server at New South Cafe, back when they were conveniently located near my office. I just adore Susie. I always tried to sit at her tables if I ever took anyone there. She always has a smile, speaks well, gets the orders right, and takes excellent care of her tables. So seeing her just made the lunch all the more special.

Bunny came to greet me, and without missing a beat, asked me for a media contact. Apparently, Cha-Bella was going to be hosting 30 students for Junior Achievement this afternoon, but nothing was sent out to the media. I whipped out my cell phone like I was Inspector Gadget and clicked the speed dial to WJCL. Britt Middleton answered the phone. I identified myself and got a very warm greeting. I explained what was going on, then handed the phone to Bunny. She handed it back, Britt thanked me for the heads up and hung up. I've only done a couple stories with her, but she talked to me as if we were old friends. I just love that feeling. Plus, it's kinda cool to think I have connections to help someone who has helped me out so much. I often feel like low lady on the totem pole, always asking for help for the puppers (and kitters, too).

I followed Bunny to her office and spent my lunch with her, catching up like good girlfriends do, talking about my birthday party and getting older. She got a phone call as well, from another person I knew pretty well. It was a surprise to him, so she ended up handing me her cell phone so I could catch up a little bit. I don't know if they ever had the conversation he intended as she had to run to finish a catering proposal.

The time finally came for me to return to work. But of course, as we were leaving, we saw another friend by the fire. We walked over, and Brian greeted me with a kiss on the a cheek, and a hug, wishing me a happy birthday. That just made my day! Of course, he asked about the puppies (kitties are implied, though I never have them at my house) as well, as it is only polite since that is how everyone knows me.

I said my goodbyes and skipped the five blocks to my truck. It was cold, but I was surrounded in warm wishes from good friends. And that, folks, is why I keep living in Savannah.

Pet Rescue Barbie

2009-02-04T10:22:00.000-05:00

It seems I have a reputation for loving pets. But when Dutch Dooley called a couple weeks ago to schedule me for an appearance on Kix, it was his greeting that made me laugh. Instead of saying, "Hi, Lisa," I got, "Is this Pet Rescue Barbie?" Apparently, someone had been doing his research.

The Barbie thing goes back to high school. Those who knew me then will remember my hair came all the way down my backside and was nearly see-through blonde from working every day in the sun at the marina. In retaliation, when I got to college, I cut it to just above my shoulders and dyed it strawberry blonde. It was supposed to wash out in 28 washes, but took 4 years.

For a few years, I shed the Barbie image. I was not as skinny as I had been, and working inside meant no more year-round tan. But as I got into pet rescue, it came back. First, from a 60-year-old woman I met down in Florida when I was doing a pet rescue transport. She laughed when she saw me drive up. Apparently, I was the youngest person she had ever met doing these things, and she was amazed. I had lost a lot of weight then, and spent a bit of time at the pool in my apartment complex. She said something to the effect of "what's a Barbie doll like you doing out here so early on a Saturday morning?" I don't remember her name, but I can clearly remember the 6 toy poodles and shih tzus we piled into my car for the ride to SC to meet the next hand-off.

On a local message board, I became known as the Pet Chick. I took no offense, and actually called myself that quite a bit in conversations. But then, later that year, an email circulated around, advertising the great new K-9 Rescue Barbie. And thus, Pet Rescue Barbie came to life.

So here's to our sixth anniversary tomorrow (and my 30th birthday).

K-9 Rescue Barbie

This Christmas season, give the latest, hottest new Barbie -- K-9 Rescue Barbie. She comes with her own Ford Aerostar van, and various size dog crates inside. She has a cell phone that's barely working due to over use and underpayment.

Barbie herself is decked out in jeans, grungy athletic shoes, and a t-shirt that says "Dogs are Better Than Any Other Living Thing on Earth". She comes with a road atlas of every town and state in all of North America, and a compass on the dashboard of the van. She also has a map of every McDonald's in the world.

Optional is the special Rescue Dog Barbie laptop computer with the names and addresses of every other dog rescue person on earth, in case she gets somewhere and a contact fails to show up.

Running buddy, "Lucky", the three-legged, blind Shih Tzu doll is available for an additional $49.95.

For $89.95, you can complete the set with "Pissed off husband at home, Ken," and the various foster dogs at $20 each.

Prices for accessories are:

* Fake snow falling on Barbie's van: $12.95
* Flat tire for Barbie's van: (see Barbie's Road Service")
* Barbie's First Aid Kit: (human): $11.75, (canine): $69.50
* Barbie's Speeding Ticket: $95 (Mississippi--$195)
* Barbie's coat-that-she-had-to-buy-in-Minnesota: $85
* Barbie's Vet Bill for Lucky in Vaughn, New Mexico: $63.45
* Barbie's contact, Rhonda, who she had to give gas money to in Mesa Verde,Texas: $20
* Barbie's bill to get her contact, Luis, out of jail in Bakersfield, California: $500
* Barbie's bill to get Luis's dogs out of the pound in Bakersfield, California: $265
* Barbie's hotel/kennel bill in Laughlin, Nevada, while she waits for her contact:$532
* Barbie's overalls that she has to buy while in Minden, Nebraska, hunting down lost coonhounds: $49.95
* Pizza for Barbie's suspicious looking hitch-hiker with sick puppy: $15
* Vet bill for hitch-hikers sick puppy in Des Moines, Iowa: $143.29
* Barbie's doggie wheelchair for "Klause" the rescue dachshund in Leavenworth, Kansas: $143
* And Barbie's van detailing/fumigation from hauling parvo/kennel cough puppies: $187
* Barbie's resume to get new job when she gets home from run: $29.95

And let us not forget her sister doll - Cat Rescue Barbie, who comes with
the same equipment, (substitute "cat" for "dog"), also:

* Folding ladder in vehicle: $129.95
* Have-a-heart trap: $29.95
* Cans of tuna for baiting trap: $11.95
* Long handled fishing net: $39.95
* Case of Simple Solution: $259.95
* Black light (to detect cat urine): $29.95
* Tee shirt that says "The More I Know About Men, The More I Love My Cat" $19.95
* Running buddy "Jeep" - 3-legged tailless cat named after vehicle that claimed her missing appendages: $89.95
* Vet bill for Jeep $397.95
* Friend Edith, 87-year-old feral colony feeder, who calls begging favors when her arthritis acts up and she can't get out. $59.95
* Food for Edith's colony cats (after all, Edith is on Social Security) $139.95
* Friend Margie, do-gooder with pristine home and one spoiled cat, whose idea of being a rescuer is to pick up strays and take them to Barbie for rehab, vetting, fostering, and placement. $89.95
* Vet bills for Margie's rescues $892.95
* Mother Sadie, who calls weekly to ask Barbie when she is going to get rid of all those smelly cats and give her some grandchildren already $89.95 (telephone extra)
* Shrink who talks Barbie out of killing above-mentioned persons each week $500
* Vet who makes house calls and doesn't blink at unannounced visits and odd-hour consultations: *priceless*

The Story of Me

2009-02-03T11:50:00.000-05:00

There is nothing quite like growing up with the dream of changing the world. I often thought people were born leaders or had a destiny to make an impact. I never thought of myself as one of those people.

As a child, I spent my days outside, climbing trees, fishing in the creeks, camping, and almost anything involving the outdoors. Not atypical for a Southern tomboy growing up on Tybee Island, a small seaside suburb of Savannah. I was the youngest of four children, with a fairly large gap in ages, my siblings all being 11 and 14 years older than me. My parents both worked corporate jobs that kept them away from home, and subsequently me, for a large portion of the time. So I grew very close to my pets, confiding in them my hopes and fears, all the things I was afraid to tell anyone, or at least didn't think anyone had the time or interest to listen.

My first dog, Peaches, ran into our house on Thanksgiving when I was in second grade. She was a mutt, part Poodle, part everything else. She was filthy but friendly and decided this should be her home. Against my mom's protests, my dad decreed she could stay, and my oldest sister, Sandra, and I named her Peaches.

Back then, we didn't know much about spaying and neutering. I wasn't home to see Bob Barker preach about spaying and neutering in between his duty as host of “The Price Is Right”. I often wished he had been talking about people and not just pets. So a couple months later, Peaches had a litter of nine puppies. Four months later, she was hit by a car, leaving us to care for the litter and find homes for them all. And thus began my journey into animal rescue.

I honestly don't believe anyone goes into rescue on purpose. For me, it was just a habit. After the puppies, we took in another dog, Shadow, that I found discarded into a dumpster as a puppy. Shortly thereafter, Daddy brought home Bandit, an orphaned baby raccoon. I still harbor ill feelings for the damage she brought to my favorite teddy bear and having to sleep in a baseball cap since she loved to play with my hair while I slept. And then there was the never-ending procession of stray and feral cats that found their way to our home on Tybee. I went off to college and took care of strays here and there, but it wasn't until I got married that I realized I needed to do something.

I made the mistake of marrying young. I was happy that I had waited until after college, something that I wanted to be sure I accomplished for myself. My family didn't have the money to put me through school, so that I would qualify for scholarships. It meant a tremendous amount to me to be able to say I went to college for me, not because it was what was expected or pushed, but because it was what I wanted. But while I made great decisions with regard to my education, I continually floundered in my personal life. I was too young to know what was best for me, and married the first person that offered me a life I thought I wanted.

I found myself incredibly miserable. I was only 23. I had been cut off from most of my friends, I never saw my parents, and spent many nights crying myself to sleep. But what I rediscovered was my love for animals. I took to rescuing more and more, taking them to the vet and finding them homes. I started a website to get the word out about the homeless pets. In January 2003, I started the paperwork to make Coastal Pet Rescue (CPR) a formal organization, at the advice of my veterinarian, Dr. Pam Fandrich. On February 5th, the incorporation papers were signed, and CPR officially had the same birthday as me.

It was amazing to me to see CPR take off like it did. I now had an outlet outside of my marriage that made me happy, but most importantly, gave me the reason to get out of bed in the morning, something I had lacked for most of the previous year. I met other women through the rescue, women who had stories similar to mine and, like me, had managed to find themselves again. I gained the strength I needed, and that October, left in the middle of the night to start a new life.

For the next two years, I lived out of a suitcase, a short while out of my SUV, and moved four times. But all the while, I never let go of CPR.
Even on the darkest days, when I thought it would be easiest to pack the truck and leave town, I stayed because of my commitment to rescue. I came to know some fantastic people and the support for my organization grew. Marjorie Young of Carriage Trade PR became a mentor, teaching me the ropes of public relations to increase our support. And my parents, who had been absent from my life through most of my marriage, helped me to purchase a place big enough for me and the dogs I so desperately wanted to save.

I discovered there was still so much more I needed to know. Coastal Pet Rescue was no longer just a hobby, it had become a business. I was working a full-time job and spending 60 plus hours a week keeping CPR afloat, but decided I really needed to go back to school. I enrolled in the Humane Leadership bachelor degree program through Duquesne University. The program was in partnership with the Humane Society of the United States, and I would be taught by people actually in the fields of animal welfare and business administration. I was even lucky enough to be in class during the Michael Vick investigation, with my instructor being the lead veterinary forensics investigator. The more classes I took, the stronger CPR became. And, over time, the better leader I became as well.

I graduated the program in December 2007, Magna Cum Laude. My parents flew me to Pittsburgh to walk in the graduation ceremony while they stayed home at Tybee. Even in the 27 degree weather, I could feel the warm thoughts and support from home.

As I said earlier, I never believed I was a leader, but something happened with Coastal Pet Rescue. In 2005, I appeared in TIME magazine, was named the Jiffy Lube Heart on Wheels national winner, and featured on CNN.com. Awards followed in 2006, as I was named to the top ten Purina Pro Plan Rally to Rescue Ambassadors, received a certificate of recognition from the U.S. Department of Agriculture, had a flag flown over the US Capitol by Congressman Jack Kingston, and was named to the REAL Hot 100 list. Local recognitions came in 2007, such as the Top Ten Working Women of Savannah, eWomenNetwork Emerging Leader of the Year finalist, Hands on Georgia Gallery of Service, and WGNU's Women Inspiring Women. I was named a Savannah Hero by the Georgia Equality Association and CPR was named as one of the top five non-profit organizations changing the world by South Magazine in 2008. I even became an instructor for the Red Cross's Pet First Aid and CPR classes and redeveloped the curriculum.

Today, I take pride in being known as a leader. I like being able to mentor the young girls that volunteer with us, helping them to see that their small actions can grow to be something much larger. There are always people around that want to tell me there are better ways to spend my time, that I'm not on the right path. But then there are all the others that, time and again, help to reaffirm the path I've chosen, even if it hasn't been smooth sailing all along.

Making Tough Decisions

2009-01-22T11:48:00.000-05:00

The reason we have the "one at a time" in our tagline is because realistically, we can't save them all. But it won't stop us from trying to save the ones we can.

It was nearly 9 pm when I got home from my board meeting last night. Ryan was in the house, having already bathed all but one puppy with dish soap to kill the fleas. They had been fed and most were curled up together behind my toilet. Not exactly the place I would have chosen, but they felt safe in their little refuge. One puppy was still left in a box. You could see the fleas running all through his white fur. One eye had some discharge, and his gums were pale. He was half the size of his siblings, most definitely the runt. He made a little whimper, not much, but just enough to say he wasn't sure what was going on but knew he had no control. I figured from the bloated bellies of the other puppies that he was suffering from hookworms and roundworms on the inside and all the flea bites weren't helping either. I put him back then ran outside to finish packing Betty's van for the expo so they could get on their way back home to the islands.

I came back inside and decided to go ahead and bathe the little one. I already felt like he wouldn't make it through the night, but decided to at least try and make him as comfortable as possible. I put him under the water and he began to drink just as fast as his tiny tongue would let him. We finished the bath. I warmed some puppy milk for him and we dropper fed him. He finally got the idea and decided he could take it from the bowl himself. It was now 10 pm and I had so much left to do for the expo. I sent Ryan home to get some rest since he would have to be up at 4 am. His boss isn't near as forgiving as mine if I come in groggy. Of course, that's the biggest reason I didn't go forward with my acceptance to the Coast Guard Academy.

I went about my evening, finishing prep, refilling water bowls, and checking on little Rybo every 30 minutes. He seemed to be sleeping fine, as all the other puppies were. I put him in a cage by himself with a big fluffy blanket and left him water and puppy milk just in case he wanted more. I checked on him again before I crawled into bed at 1:20 am. All seemed to be well.

The first wake up call was at 3:48. Not uncommon with puppies. I got up, and Rybo had finished off the milk I left him. I picked him up, swaddled in a small towel, and held him against my heart, knowing that often comforts lonely puppies. In 20 minutes he was back asleep. I put him down and walked out of the bathroom, stepped over a few dogs stretched outside the door, and crawled back into my bed for a cat nap.

The next wake up call came at 6:30. I wrestled with myself about getting out of my warm bed into the cold hallway since the windows and doors only block the winter air but don't keep it out completely. At 6:50 I decided to get up and go check on him. This time, he was squealing. I picked him up and held him again. It seemed to help. I warmed up some more milk and put it down in his crate then put him back in. He was quiet for a few minutes. I walked to the bedroom and decided to go ahead and start my day since sleep was just not going to be possible now. I took my kids outside to do their thing, then let two more of the bigger dogs out. It was now almost 7:30. I went back in, and knew something was wrong. He was in the corner of his crate, trying desperately to get out. I went to pick him up, and that's when it all started going downhill. For the next thirty minutes I watched the puppy version of the Exorcist while I waited for the vet's office to open.

I knew it was my responsibility to make the decision in his best interest. He was suffering, and I had no idea how long this had been going on before I got him or how it would affect him later if we pulled him through once. I got ahold of Crossroad Animal Hospital. They've been my personal vet for nine years and have treated our CPR pets for six. I told them I just needed to come in and have a puppy put to sleep as soon as possible. I have enough of a relationship with them that they understand these decisions are not reached lightly and must be urgent if I have. I arrived a few minutes before 9, gave a very quick rundown, and off they were with little Rybo to ease his suffering and send him to the rainbow bridge.

Driving to work wasn't easy. I hurt for Rybo, but I was still so angry that someone let this happen. I understand it's part of the circle of life, but it never gets easier the more I do it. I pulled out my camera and looked at his pictures I shot last night. I hope he has finally found some peace.

Just Another Night

2009-01-21T23:30:00.000-05:00

Dear Mom,

People suck. I know you raised me to not use such language, and you sent me to parochial schools to have a stronger vocabulary. But tonight, I truly have no more words to use.

It was just another day. Go to work, run by vet's office to pick up a dog, run home, drop her off, head to a board meeting, then come home to finish up everything for our three-day event. Except that in the midst of all this, I had a phone call to take in eight five-week-old beagle puppies. Just what I need. But when I heard the story, there was no way I could say no.

The phone call came from Ryan, a young soldier who not only serves his country well but also gives free time to help out with the dogs. In true form, he starts out with, "I'm really sorry to bother ya, but I need your help." As it turns out, one of his soldiers woke up this morning, walked out the door, and found a cardboard box on his doorstep. He went to go throw it away... until he heard whimpers, and discovered eight young puppies. Keep in mind the weather was in the very, very low 20s last night, and all these puppies had to keep them warm was each other and a dirty, flea infested stuffed teddy bear the heartless jerk left with them.

So Ryan and I spent a couple of hours this evening bathing puppies, force feeding the runt some puppy milk, and working to keep them in the best condition possible until we can get to the vet in the am. The good news is, despite their being cast out for no fault of their own, they are still eager to held, to play, to be part of a loving family someday.

So sorry, Mom. I love you, and I will promise to do better, but people suck.

Lisa the Rescuer

2009-01-21T00:02:00.000-05:00

I am very proud to say that I did watch history today. I enjoyed sharing the experience with my other friends on Facebook. But as I was just driving back home tonight, at yet another late hour due to rescue stuff, my mind drifted back to the whole Joe the Plumber thing. So it made me think about Lisa the Rescuer.

In just two weeks, I will be 30. Like most of my friends, I'm still figuring out where I'll go in life. I'm well educated, with three college degrees, but can't find a job to pay me my worth, or at least what I was told I would be worth with higher education. I have crap for health insurance, which I would love to cancel since they won't pay any of my medical bills but yet if I do cancel, no other company will insure me. What's the purpose of health insurance again? I struggle each month to pay the bills and have to make the choices of which can be a few days late over another. No, it's not the best way to live, but for most of my friends in similar situations, it's life. Just last week I tried to call one of my student loan holders to get a deferment because I couldn't make the payments. I was told it would be a $50 charge to apply for it. The payment was $65 a month. If I don't have the payment to make each month, how in the world would I have the funds for an application fee? What sense does that make? Do they know how hard it is to grocery shop on $20 a month? It's a darn good thing I learned to love peanut butter and honey sandwiches as a Girl Scout. Oh, wait, I can't buy peanut butter either because its contaminated now. I live in a house that is mostly cold because the walls and windows are paper thin, the roof leaks in places, and my shed has tarps on it since it is mostly rotted through but keeps our rescue supplies locked safely. (The floor is worthless, too, but that's partly the dogs' doing.) But for now, I at least still have a home. I find myself scrambling for odd jobs each month just to pick up a little more to make it by. Sometimes I do, others I don't. I know the consequences, but little choice exists.

President Obama has called for Americans to give more of themselves and give back to the community. Great idea, except how can people be expected to do that if they have to pick up multiple jobs to make ends meet? Or jobs with odd or long hours? We lost so many volunteers in the last year that had to relocate for a better job or take a second job. I myself would love to be able to quit my job if I could figure out how to make it by and do the rescue full time. It's my passion, and it does provide a great service to the community, but the reality is that community service doesn't keep the electricity on and the mortgage paid.

I recognize that there is no easy answer or quick fix. I just want to feel like those of us in our late 20s/early 30s that are still searching for our way will be considered just as much as the Joe the Plumbers or youths of America. I'm just hopeful there will be a voice to the President's ear for those of us in between.

Respect My Sanity, Please

2009-01-20T11:34:00.000-05:00

There is a reason we have a voicemail service for the rescue. Yet, people, whom I've yet to uncover, think it is perfectly fine to give out my cell phone number to people I don't know. And it's never Ed McMahon who wants to give me a million dollars.

My day started this morning at 4:30 am as I had to do my media appearance with WJCL. Add to the fact that I despise cold weather and I wasn't exactly a ray of sunshine. I normally have a rule that I don't answer my cell phone from phone numbers I don't recognize simply because they are usually calls that are going to want me to solve a problem without any regard to my personal life. Sure enough, I got one as I was leaving home at 8:30 am.

Phone vibrates. Phone number looks familiar. I answer it. "Hello?"

"Hi this is [name withheld to protect the inconsiderate]."

Silence. Note to self: be better about sticking to the rules.

On the other end, the voice perks up, almost smiling. "I hear you like huskies?"

Silence.

"I'm pregant and I have these two huskies..." She was saying a bit more but all I heard was "I need you to take care of my dogs because I didn't have the forethought to pick breeds that would be easier to manage when I wanted to start a human family but they were so cute as puppies I just didn't care."

"We're full right now," I said, as dry as possible.

"But I'm pregnant."

"We're not taking any more dogs in until mid-February," I said.

Smile gone, rudeness sets in, "You're kiding me!" I could tell she was incredibly inconvenience. I mean really, people just can't have a baby and a dog, that's just preposterous.

"Nope," now just out cold, and irritated, and I was trying to get to work.

"Well, will you give me the number to someone who will?"

"You can look up other rescues online or try the humane society."

"Fine," and then click.

Yes, this is how people are to me. I'm supposed to solve every problem for every person if it involves a pet. Now don't get me wrong, I'm happy to take the phone calls from concerned individuals about dogs being left tethered or kittens living under a house. But if you know me personally, have some respect for my sanity and call me first and ask my permission to give out my number. Otherwise, if I find out who you are, I may give yours to every telemarketing agency I can find.

Another Night of Heartbreak

2009-01-07T22:13:00.001-05:00

The phone call came at 9:32 pm. All I had to do was look at the caller id and know what was coming. I have over 300 numbers stored in my phone, so I know who I have to answer and who I can call back later. This was one I had to take.

I answered, very softly, and the response was just the same. She really didn't have to tell me, but Dr. Hassan is an incredible vet and a kindred spirit. She gets what we are doing, and what it puts us through in the process. Add to the fact that she's been sick and gave up her time to go in and check on our puppies tonight, you see that she has just as much compassion as we. It was a short conversation. No need to rehash what I had just heard a little over 24 hours ago. Sonny had gone off to join his brother at the Rainbow Bridge.

Just a couple hours ago, I had gone down to Wendy's for some chili and a frosty to read my book. I needed a little down time and sitting here wasn't going to let me clear my head. Reading engrosses me in something else so I can't focus on all my responsibilities. I needed that tonight. But something in me told me when it was time to go home, and sure enough, not even ten minutes later is when the phone call came. Why can't I be this predictable with the winning lottery numbers?

I felt incredibly sick when I hung up the phone. Let's face it, Wendy's food isn't known for its nutritional value, and my constant up and down emotions for the last four days isn't helping either. What I wouldn't give right now for some hot cocoa and warm, snuggly pajamas. I don't know why, but those always made me feel better when I was a kid. I guess that's one of the pitfalls of living alone: times like this, when you need a hug or comforting, you're on your own to pick yourself back up. I've done it plenty of times before, I know I will again. But for tonight, I'll just hold the last puppy in my arms, saying my prayers of thanks that he didn't fall ill and is still well enough to chew his toys, dance on his back legs and pee in my lap from excitement.

We Are Changing Lives

2009-01-07T14:11:00.001-05:00

By now, most of you know what a bummer of a day I had yesterday. So my trip to check our post office today brought a little more sunshine to me.

I only get out there about twice a month to check it, so our mail sometimes accumulates. I've gotten used to not getting any donation checks but every few months. So imagine my surprise to get three today, two of which were from previous adopters.

In 2003, the first year Coastal Pet Rescue was official, I took a senior Cocker Spaniel in. Now, at this very moment, I'm having trouble remembering if I got her off the street or from someone, but I can remember she's one of the two dogs responsible for chewing up the foot board of my cherry oak bed which to this day still has not been repaired. I ended up adopting Honey to a young military couple. They vowed they would take her with them wherever they moved to. They did. I remember getting the email when she passed a year or so ago. So it was a surprise to open up my mailbox today and find a $50 donation and a letter with photos:

Lisa & Coastal Pet Rescue,

This holiday season we just wanted to thank you once again for rescuing Honey back in 2003. She brought us much joy while she was with us. Even though she has passed away we still love our Honey Bunny very much. This holiday we would like to make a small donation in memory of Honey Bunny. We know it's hard to find a loving home for older dogs like Honey so we hope that this will help support an older dog while he/she waits for their forever home.

Sincerely,

Aaron & Mandy

It's hard to believe that all these years later, this family is still thinking of us, but it really makes me feel so much better. I'm often criticized for taking animals that are older, have medical issues, or need a lot of care because "it takes away from animals that are perfectly healthy and will be euthanized." I got news for those folks: I've yet in nine years to take in a stray pet or one from animal control that was perfectly healthy. So you go about doing things your way, and I'll go about doing things mine. (Sorry, it's all the sugar from my M&M McFlurry talking.)

My next envelope was a $100 donation from an adopter two years ago. My sweet Deuce I could never, ever forget. We were in Garden City trying to trap a mom that had recently had puppies. Three of us had been working on this individually for a couple of weeks, and decided to try a teamwork approach. It was not a fabulous neighborhood, and people were anything but friendly but at least they weren't bothering us. We had canned food and slip leads and comfortable tennis shoes for the adventure as most of where we were may as well have been a protected jungle. About two hours after we were there, a yellow lab male found us. He was skinny, very skinny, and incredibly friendly. He followed us everywhere. I decided I could spare a can of food for him. He devoured it. I scratched his head and told him to go find his home, but he wouldn't leave us. Two hours later we decided it was time to pack it in. I opened up my truck door to put my supplies back, and there he was, trying to get in the truck. I have to say, it was a first. He was turning himself over for rescue. Wanting to do things the legal way, I decided I would turn him over to animal control and mark him to be pulled out in five days. Easier said then done.

On the thirty minute ride to animal control, this dog sat with his head my shoulder the entire way. They always seem to know a sucker when they find one. So when we finally arrived, I left him in the truck. It was a Sunday afternoon, only one person at the animal control shelter. I walked in and asked her, "Hypothetically, if I find a dog, can I just report it instead of turning it in to the shelter?" She laughed and said yes. I agreed he would not be put up for adoption for ten days, but I knew no one would come for him, and no one ever did.

I named my newest rescue Deuce. I'm sure I had a reason for it, but at this moment, I don't recall. I do remember that his first day home alone, he took down two of my blinds, knocked over my speakers, and drooled all over the front door (I can pinpoint damages in my home like most people can scars on their body). After that, we went to crating. He was already housebroken and as loyal as a lab could ever be. I was getting attached; this dog followed my every move, was incredibly well behaved, and got along well with Hannah and DaVinci. But I resolved that I would just wait until the right home came along. And it finally did. We drove Deuce to a lovely home on Distant Island, SC. He immediately took to the couple, making himself right at home. I couldn't blame him; they were on deep water, had windows all the way down the backside of the house so they could enjoy the view. When we walked outside and he got loose from the leash, he immediately ran to the husband to plead his case for adoption. It worked.

I still keep in touch with them and get regular updates. Many friends of their family sent us donations after the adoption to honor the memory of the lab they lost just prior to adopting Deuce. So to get their donation check with a sticky note that read "THANK YOU for finding him for us!!!" today was just a boost I needed.

The Rainbow Bridge

2009-01-06T22:54:00.000-05:00

There is no denying that running the rescue can take a high emotional toll some days. Today was definitely one of them. We had to put two puppies from a litter of four in the ER vet on Saturday. They stayed overnight as well as Sunday night. I was there a little after 7 am to pick them up and transfer them to our regular vet. A few hours later, we were sending in one more puppy as well. We have been through this process before. We know the chances we take, but we always try to at least take a chance.

My mind is such a flutter tonight. I've gotten to know these puppies pretty well over the last few weeks. They were left behind because a neglegent owner left her unspayed dog with someone who let her get pregnant then dumped her and the puppies at the shelter. The owner came back for the mom, but left the pups. They were about six weeks old. They sat in the shelter for a week before that, and then sat two days afterwards until I was able to get them. It seems like a short period, but that's all it takes to contract deadly diseases.

Right now, I want so badly to have someone to blame. When I walked into the vet's office after work tonight, I didn't feel good. I could just sense it wasn't right. And I was correct. I was walked back and asked to make a decision on him. I hate being the one to make those decisions, but that's what I've been doing the last six years. Before me was a puppy I didn't know. Just a few days before, he had been bouncing around with his brothers, eating at my shoe laces and attaching himself to my pants leg as I tried to walk. But this puppy before me was not him. He was already gone. I couldn't let what was left continue to suffer. I turned towards the wall, banged my fist once, and just let the tears flow. It's a rare thing to see me cry. I pride myself on being strong. But in that dark hallway, looking through the door at my puppies, I just filled with anger and extreme sadness. The vet techs gave me my time as I stared. I couldn't stop and I couldn't stop the tears. Finally I told them to let him go. I was escorted to an exam room to wait and they closed the door behind me. I put my head in my hands and just continued to cry, alone. I would have to compose myself to call his adoptive family and tell them the news. But for now, I needed my time to grieve.

Dr. Sheller came in to talk to me. She was soft in her tone, told me about cases she had had before. I know the statistics, I know the survival rate is not always good. I lost six puppies last year, and I remember every single one of them. But it never gets easier. We talked about the remaining two, how one had improved so much, he tried to remove the catheter himself. The other was doing well but not as good as they wanted him to do. She wanted them to both stay overnight.

I walked out in silence. Sweet Amy at the front desk made a small gesture that she was sorry but didn't say anything. Most animal lovers never have to. We all love our pets and understand how terrible we would feel if it was one of ours. I grabbed my paperwork, got in the truck, and headed home.

I don't even remember the drive home, but I made it. It took me nearly two hours to do the feedings and medicines and cleanings tonight, something that usually takes half that. I finished and finally called all the families to update them on their puppies. I saved the worst for last. It was probably the hardest phone call I've ever had to make, and yet the gentleman was so kind to me. I was very calm and collected, but I'm sure he could hear a tint of sadness in my voice. I apologized profusely, but I really didn't know what more I could say. As I had been told at the vet's office, we did all that we could, we just can't save them all.

--- Rainbow Bridge ---

Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.

When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge. There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together. There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.

All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor; those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by. The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.

They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent; His eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.

You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.

Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together.

Author Unknown

--- The Reason ---

I would've died that day if not for you.

I would've given up on life if not for your kind eyes.
I would've used my teeth in fear if not for your gentle hands.
I would have left this life believing that all humans don't care
Believing there is no such thing as fur that isn't matted
Skin that isn't flea bitten
Good food and enough of it
Beds to sleep on
Someone to love me
To show me I deserve love just because I exist.

Your kind eyes, your loving smile, your gentle hands
Your big heart saved me...

You saved me from the terror of the pound,
Soothing away the memories of my old life.
You have taught me what it means to be loved.
I have seen you do the same for other dogs like me.

I have heard you ask yourself in times of despair
Why you do it
When there is no more money, no more room, no more homes
You open your heart a little bigger, stretch the money a little tighter
Make just a little more room to save one more like me.
I tell you with the gratitude and love that shines in my eyes
In the best way I know how
Reminding you why you go on trying.

I am the reason
The dogs before me are the reason
As are the ones who come after.
Our lives would've been wasted, our love never given
We would die if not for you.

By Kim Senke-Rocka
Associate Executive Director
Heart Bandits American Eskimo Dog Rescue

Dog House 1, Lisa 0

2009-01-05T21:27:00.000-05:00

Have you ever had a conversation with a person to tell them something and get a weird silence? That's been me the last two days trying to explain my black eye.

I grew up as a tomboy. I'm used to pain. I have scars all over my legs from climbing trees, swimming around oyster banks, and doing stunts with my bike. It wasn't unusual for me to return to our boat at the end of the day, covered in red welts from pine cone wars at the tree house. And yes, I was even in a scrap or two with my cousins. It all just builds character.

But when you are a month away from your 30th birthday, people expect you are no longer building forts in the marsh, jumping your bike, hanging out in oak trees, or throwing pine cones. I honestly wish I could have had even one of those as the start to my story, but no, I have a black eye because of a dog house.

Actually, I take that back. I have a black eye because Jazzabelle had to show us a new trick on Sunday. I had two new volunteers over for orientation to work the ranch once a week. I paired them up with Joey, my volunteer that comes every Sunday to take care of the dogs for me. I was inside working with a new volunteer managing our records. Joey came in to tell me that Jazz was on top of one of the kennels. I had to think about that a minute. All our kennels have mesh tarps on top to provide shade and keep cool in the warmer months. I asked how she got up there. I was told she used her dog house, jumped from it to the next kennel and was barking at Teddy from the roof. I walked outside, and sure enough, there she was. There is nothing this dog won't do. It's been a couple years since we had Cheyenne jump on top of one of my neighbor's roofs, so I guess at least this time it was on my own property.

I got Joey to follow me in the kennel to shift the dog house to the other side, where there was no gap in the tarp to allow an escape hatch for Jazz's new trick. In the process, I had to move a piece of pvc pipe, which we pound into the ground to discourage digging. This one was now located in the path of the dog house relocation, which could be blamed either on Jazz or her kennel mate Amber, but no one was answering my questions to accept blame. I pulled at it, it didn't come. I pulled again, and it gave way... smack into my left eye. I could feel my eye start to water, but I had to get the dog house moved while I still had help. I just squinted until we were done. I headed into the house and could just see a little bit. It didn't look that bad. But this morning, I really felt it, still feel it.

So there you have it. No exciting story about Savannah nightlife or great camping adventures. Nope, I got beat up because of a dog house.

Just Another Saturday

2009-01-03T23:29:00.001-05:00

The holidays are always a blur to so many people. But for me, most days are a blur. For example, this morning, my barking alarms went off before my radio alarm. I was going to have to be up early to pick up Gizmo from his overnight at the vet after his neuter yesterday, then scheduled three adoption interviews today. But after telling the dogs to let me snooze and hitting my actual alarm a few times, I realized I was cutting time close. I shoved all the big dogs out into the play yard, threw on the nearest sweatshirt covered in paw prints, my dirty tennis shoes because DaVinci still hasn't learned that ladies go first through doors, grabbed my keys and ran out the door. I completely forgot to brush my teeth, which I remembered as soon as I was greeted with a "hello" upon entering the vet's office. Luckily they keep a tin of peppermints on the counter, which I immediately grabbed and chewed. I was feeling good about it until I remembered that I hadn't brushed my hair eithere. Another Saturday morning and I'm 0 for 2.

I got Gizmo in the truck and headed home. Now, I'm a big dog person, but for whatever reason, my home has been inundated with lots of small breed yappiness, I mean happiness, recently. While Gizmo is a cute bundle of energy, he's one of those dogs that I was very excited to see get applications. So it was no surprise that before I even picked him up from the vet's office I had already scheduled his adoption. But I admit, I took a little joy watching him try to navigate through the front door with his lampshade (Elizabethan collar) around him, considering all the nights he woke me from deep, well, whatever slumber I might have been trying to steal.

So we got back to the ranch. I had to load a second crate in the car for Sonny's adoption interview, then grab a slip lead for the monstrous Teddy for his adoption interview as well. It's really sad. Teddy is such a wonderful, spirited dog, but is so overlooked because of his size and older age. But he's the only dog at the ranch that will play catch and fetch with me, so I think he's awesome.

An hour later, we were on the road, using the GPS mom and dad gave me for Christmas. I scheduled the adoptions for 1 pm, 2 pm and 3 pm. The first adoption was love at first sight. Sonny was in their arms, they signed the papers and sent me back out on the road quick than Domino's Pizza.

I typed in the address for the next interview, which turned out to be only a few streets away. I called the family to make sure they were ok with an early arrival. The wife answered and said she would be delighted to have us come sooner. I was even more thrilled than she as this was for Gizmo's new home. We arrived, got out of the truck, and I'm pretty sure little Gizie knew he was home. He played them from the moment we got out: wagging his tail, his little tongue sticking out because he was missing front teeth to keep it in, and even flopping over on his back to show how cute he was even for a two-and-a-half year old. He sauntered into the house, and stretched out to feel the cool hardwood beneath him. Gizmo just kept smiling, taking in his new digs and pretty much telling me it was time for us to part, that I could show myself out. It took just a little longer than the first family to get the contract signed, but I saw the look on the wife's face when she first bent down to pet him and knew she loved him right away.

I darn near skipped back to my truck. Two for two. I climbed into the truck and turned to scratch Teddy behind the ears. I gave him a pep talk. We were going to meet someone that wanted to meet him, but I didn't think it was going to be an actual adoption. I think Teddy is a great dog, but it's hard to get other people to see everything I see sometimes. I was now an hour ahead of schedule, so I called and of course, the potential adopter said come on over. Teddy was on his best behavior, or as best he could be. With so many new sights, so many new smells, it really is hard for a dog to control himself on a leash. We went inside and he settled down, sprawling his long legs on her kitchen floor. He indulged her petting and belly rubs, trying to comprehend why we were here and what was going on. It went about as I expected: she remarked what a beautiful dog he was, but his strength was a bit much for her I could tell. She wished us well and we headed back to the truck. I gave him a kiss on the head and told him we'd work harder for next time.

It was now after 2:30. We were headed home... almost. A text message went off. A foster family I needed to run some meds to was hanging out at Chili's. Since it was on my way, I decided to meet them there rather than have to run downtown again. I really hate driving. It's amazing the trips I used to take in college. I guess I do too much of it now and just hate it. We said our hellos, then I decided to grab a sub at Larry's on the way back. It was now after 3 and I hadn't yet had anything to eat. Teddy kept eying me, I could feel it on the back of my head. Every few traffic lights I'd give him a small bit of bread. I was proud of him for today, so I thought he deserved a treat.

We returned to the ranch only for me to discover that two dogs had torn apart the chainlink and chicken wire from their kennel doors and were running free in the yard. At least they were getting along. I put Teddy up, giving him a kennel that still had a cot since Amber had taken it upon herself to shred his two nights ago. I called Gary, my resident handyman guy for advice to fix the doors. Then I headed for my toolbox and rigged what I could, moved a few more pavers around, and stood back. If nothing else, it might annoy them enough to stop trying to break out for a little while. I headed back into the house and began the rounds of cleaning crates, refreshing water and administering meds.

Saturdays are usually event days, and Sundays are my reserved office days. But since I have four new volunteers coming tomorrow for training at the ranch, I would have to get everything I could done today. I was making good time, writing thank you notes, processing reciepts, updating pet pages, when I got a phone call from an adopter. Their puppy wasn't feeling good. An hour later, they were headed to the ER vet. Luckily, it was just coccidia and hookworms, even though they had been dewormed a week ago - which was just fabulous since watching them go potty for the two days before was like watching the Play-Doh go through the fun factory spagetti style - so the pup would get on fluids and stay overnight. They prepared me meds for the other puppies. So I called the other families to check on them. I decided to go to Richmond Hill to grab one and take him with me just in case. He got a shot, then his meds, and then we were on our way. It was now 8:30 pm and I was making a house call to Sonny. His family was very understanding. I gave him his meds, scratched his head, left my number and was out the door, headed, once again, back to the ranch.

What I failed to cover during this long night trip was my almost emotional breakdown. The work we do is very demanding. I was a nervous wreck when I found out the puppies were not feeling well. The last one here was doing fine, and they had just been to the vet yesterday morning before they were to go home. It broke my heart. We work so hard to make sure the adoptions go smoothly. I don't want adopters to spend their first or second nights worrying about their pups. It's supposed to be a happy experience. But we can't always catch everything. I had already told the ER vet we'd cover the expenses, it was the right thing to do. But I still felt awful. I needed to talk to someone, so I called the person I normally call. No answer. I called her other number... no answer. I called a third number... still no answer. Then I gripped the steering wheel hard. I wanted to cry, I wanted to scream. I know so many people, so many who call me when they need something because they know I'll come running, but when I need someone to be there for me, I have no idea who to call or if anyone will even answer. I couldn't start crying. Walking into the ER vet or into an adopter's home with a puppy is a bad sign and gets people thinking the wrong thing. The puppy in my arms was yapping and licking my face, what sense would that make? So instead of having a breakdown in the truck on the way to the ER vet, I had a twenty minute conversation in my head self-talking out of a nervous breakdown just so no one would really know what was going on. Then to feel better, I went to, yet again, Arby's for a mint chocolate swirl shake. It's a very good thing there is not one near my house or I'd be a blimp again.

I got back home about 9. Time to take everyone out to go potty, re-feed some of the dogs, and give nighttime medicines. As usual, the noise level elevated as I walked through the door and tails wagged, always a good sign. Hannah was perched on the leather couch, her new favorite spot since I took the baby gate down just before Christmas. Though it was really helping to shape my abs, thighs and buttocks, carrying 40 pound bags of food over the gate into the kitchen had gotten old after a year and a half. I took great joy in medicating Peaches' puppies. Just a week ago I had been worried they wouldn't survive. Now, I was holding them in my hand, looking at their eyes wide open (between yawns) and feeling so much joy every time I held them.

Chores now over, it was time to head to the office to check email and finish up stuff for the volunteers coming tomorrow. That's when I got a message from my friend Cat. And for whatever reason, even after all these years and so much time apart, she's still a big cheerleader for me. She was encouraging and comforting, and of course, humoring me. I tease her so much for being a Yankee, but she is one of the greatest people I know. I suppose I always hold a special place for her as she was the one who nominated me for the Top 10 Working Women in Savannah list two years ago. So I gave her my rundown of the day/evening. After suggesting I approach Arby's for a sponsorship to support my habit and giving me permission to scream and cry, she told me something that really just made everything else melt away: "hey man, i'm an ideas person and you inspire ideas, what can i say." I've never thought of myself as inspiring. What I do with the rescue has always been looked at as a hobby, though very expensive and time consuming. But it made me feel like maybe I do have a chance at leaving an impact on this world, something I've always wanted to do. I thanked Cat for the conversation and for understanding me. Then in true Cat form she said something that just made me laugh: "well...it's either my incredibly incisive psych 101 or...you spend so much time talking to animals that there aren't any people who can live up to them." Everyone should be so blessed to have as good a friend as Cat.

So at the end of the day, here I am: a hopeless animal fanatic spending a Saturday night blogging about her day with the animals, checking out her friends on Facebook, watching "The Wedding Date" and chatting online with a close friend. I suppose there are worse ways to finish out a crazy Saturday.

A Year in Review

2009-01-01T10:37:00.000-05:00

Well, here we are... 2009. It was a ruff 2008. We managed to rescue 143 canines and 67 felines despite the odds against us.

We started the year out with several litters of puppies, many of which had the fatal parvovirus. We managed to save most though six puppies didn't make it. The losses were hard to take on our foster families, but we trudged on through. The litters of puppies were followed by litter after litter of kittens. Then it became adult dog after adult dog needing heartworm treatment. We rescued pets from Animal Controls in Chatham, Effingham and Liberty County, and then found ourselves rescuing animals that became victims of the economy. Junior was left at animal control after being hit by a car because his family couldn't afford his vet care. Hope was found by a landlord cleaning up after an eviction. She had an embedded collar in her neck from living more than a year on a chain and was left at the emergency vet. We picked her up and took charge of her care, which ended up also involving treatments for heartworms. We continued to take cats and dogs turned over to us by people having to downsize or relocate. A week before Christmas, I got to go trap two Shelties that had been abandoned when their home in Ardsley Park was foreclosed on 45 days ago. It still amazes me that no one ever knew they were there.

No doubt the economy played a huge role in our struggles this year. Our donations went down, and I mean way down. A lot of us were paying things ourselves as best we could. We even went one month without any adoptions, and here it is now January, and we still have dogs and cats that have been with us since July. Even Dutchess has been with us since last January when she was a puppy found thrown out on Pooler Parkway.

So what is my hope for 2009? Well, I did play the lotto when it hit 207 million, but we can all see that didn't pan out. I didn't even win enough to buy another ticket. So we're going to have to look at our strategies. Can we afford to keep our doors open? Do we have to limit the number of intakes each month? How can we recruit more foster homes to meet the intake demands? Will people ever get the hint that spaying and neutering is the only way to reduce pet overpopulation? Perhaps only time will tell. Till then, I'll keep saying my nightly prayers that good people will continue to support us as much as they can.

Being a Proud Second Mom

2008-12-31T11:17:00.002-05:00

Ok, so I don't have kids. Right now, that's a good thing as I sure don't have the room. But on Saturday morning, I opened up my home to two moms and their litters because I just have a hard time not giving them a chance after all they do to keep their puppies alive and stay with them.

One of the litters are three two-week-old puppies. Each pup fits perfectly in the palm of my hand. Their mom, Peaches, is only about 9 pounds, so you can imagine how tiny her babies are. But after I got them home, I discovered they had upper respiratory infections. Our vet was already closed so I called a rescue friend of mine in Bluffton. She nurses litters all the time, so I knew she'd have answers. I ended up loading mom and puppies back in the truck and driving to meet Karen at Petco in Bluffton. She took a look at the pups and gave me some pediatric amoxicillan for the babies. They would get it once a day and mom twice a day so she could pass it on to them through feedings. So back to Savannah we went.

I put mom up then set about to give the babies their medicines. They were so tiny, and even at that size, incredibly squirmy. You would think I could have better control, but I didn't. After a few minutes of a struggle, I finally got one cradled in my left arm, dropper in my right hand, and just watched as the baby nursed every little drop. It was so incredibly cute to watch him. When the dropper was empty, he made one more attempt to suck, then realizing he wasn't getting more, opened his little mouth as wide as he could and let out a big yawn. His little sandpaper-like tongue stuck out just an itsy bit, then he closed his mouth and settled into my arm. His eyes were sealed shut from the discharge, so we headed back to the bathroom where I got a warm, wet rag to gently remove it. He fussed just a tiny bit, but it was worth it. Even after I got it all out of his eyes, I noticed that his eyes were still shut. One of the other babies had his eyes opened already, and the little girl had started to open hers but she also had discharge that was helping to keep them closed. I took the little boy back to his mom, and proceeded to start the medication cycle with the other two babies.

For the next two days, I kept my eyes on them. I got them a snuggly bed that had been Hannah's when she was a baby. I put a small blanket on top of them, making sure they kept warm. Each time with the dropper they got a little better. Mom, however, did not. They really get their squirminess from her. She's 9 pounds of fireball when she wants to be, and medicine is not her thing. But by Monday afternoon, none of the puppies had runny noses, and my little crusty-eyed baby had finally opened his eyes! I just about squealed when I noticed it at medicine time yesterday afternoon. Poor Ryan was standing right behind me. Of course, he's just as much a sucker for little puppies as I am, which is why he volunteers at the ranch a couple times a week and takes puppies for playdates on the weekends. But I was just so proud of these babies. They had come so far; there had originally been seven in the litter, but only these three survived the two weeks at animal control. But now, they have a bright future ahead of them. No doubt there will be a rush to adopt once they are available. But for now, I'll enjoy playing second mom to them, watching them grow, seeing their little milestones. It's one of the pure joys of the work we do in rescue.

Finding Faith

2008-12-29T11:22:00.001-05:00

It's a Monday. Like most people, I dislike Mondays only because my weekends are usually full of rescue work so I don't get to just relax and then I have to go back to work on Monday. This weekend was no exception.

On Saturday morning, I drove out to Springfield to Effingham County Animal Control to pick up a mom English Spaniel and her two puppies. I went to pick up 3, and left with 8. While I was in there, I found a young small breed mom and her three two-week-old puppies. Then I found a scared little Chihuahua girl who had unfortunately been kenneled next to two very aggressive ones. I opened up her cage and she darn near jumped out into my arms. No way I could put her back now. I got all 8 canines loaded into my truck and headed back in to pick up my paperwork. That's when I saw her.

Somehow, I had missed four dogs in outside runs. I later learned these are drop off kennels, where people can shove animals in when the animal control shelter is closed. I guess it is better than leaving them in the woods or on the street. Unlike the other dogs around her, she didn't make a noise. She just stood on her hind legs, poking her long snout through the chainlink as far as it could go. Her eyes showed so much sadness, but her little tail wag gave indication that she still had a little faith that someone could show her some kindness in her life. I walked over and looked her in the eye. She moved her head to the right, trying to get close to my hand. I scratched behind her ears and her eyes closed. Has she ever known how good that feels before? I could feel my eyes start to water. I've done this hundreds of times. I've said no so many times as well. I only have so much room, I'm only one person, my house is only so big. Then she got down, and I could finally see her full shape. Not one inch of meat on her body. One tear fell as my sadness turned to anger. How could anyone be so cruel?

Next to her kennel was a green leash someone had left when they dumped a dog. As quickly as I could, I turned it around and made a slip lead so I could get her out of her kennel. She didn't understand what I was doing. I put it around her, then opened up the kennel door. She stood there. I gave a tug and out she came, legs shaking and head down. She had no confidence whatsoever. I walked her into the animal control office and began asking questions. I was told she had been left overnight and they had just logged her in. I begged them to let me take her, but the law says they have to hold for three days. I asked that if I microchipped her quickly, since it would be in the rescue's name if that would prove ownership and I could take her. It was farfetched, but I was willing to do just about anything to take her right then. Of course I was told no, and as I didn't really want to cause too much trouble, I agreed that I would be back the first thing on Monday morning. I handed her lead to a volunteer standing nearby and ran to my truck to get out a can of food for her. One of the other volunteers told me she'd go get more canned food and make sure that my little girl would be fed just that. I gave them the instructions, small meals more frequently so she wouldn't gorge herself, and was promised they would be followed. I knelt down beside my girl and wrapped my arms around her, put my face beside hers and whispered in her ear a promise that I would be there exactly when the doors opened on Monday to get her home. I'm sure she didn't believe me, why would she? No one else has bothered to care about her before.

It was hard to let go, but I had to get back and get to the vet appointments I had already scheduled for these animals. It was after 10 am now and we had a 45 minute drive ahead of us. And it wasn't a quiet one. I couldn't take my mind off my little hound girl, hurting inside knowing how lonely she must feel. I had the sounds of crying puppies and a slightly cantankerous mom in the back. Luckily for me, we have some of the most fabulous vets that work with us, and Dr. Hassan and her staff agreed to see everyone I had in the truck even though my appointment was only for three. It only took two hours for them all.

We got everyone in the truck, back to the ranch and settled. A couple hours later, I got an email from one of our volunteers about some dogs at Chatham County Animal Control. I agreed to take two Chihuahuas that had been a breeding pair and were dumped off by their breeder, the female of which was pregnant, and an older Chesapeake Bay Retriever mix female. What's a few more, right? But all weekend, I just could not stop thinking about the one I didn't get, and for once, Monday couldn't come soon enough.

So this morning, I was up at 10 till seven. I had to get as many of the dogs out and fed as I could before my drive. I wanted to be there right when the doors opened at 8:30 am. As it turned out, I was nine minutes later. And it was raining. How appropriate. But there she was, still in the same kennel where I found her as there was no more room inside the shelter for her. I walked up, reached my hand through and smiled. I had kept my promise. She wagged her tail. I walked in and waved, a huge grin on my face. "I'm back," I yelled over the sounds of barking from the other kennels. My paperwork was filled out and we headed so I could get my girl. I decided to name her Faith. I had the kennel manager video my taking her out. I wanted other people to see what it's like those first moments that we make a rescue. For me, it's a huge thrill every time.

We got Faith in the truck and gave her a little food for the ride. Then we were on the road. I kept looking in my rear view mirror to check on her, like a nervous new mom. She would curl up in a ball for a few minutes, then get up and move to another spot. She did that for about 20 minutes before she finally settled in just behind my seat. I smiled again.

So here I sit, writing the beginning of Faith's journey towards a new life. I have her in a crate in my office so she'll have a lot of interaction with me and learn what it is to have someone care about her. I have to keep feeding her small meals; she eats everything so fast, obviously worried she won't be fed again. That usually takes a few weeks or longer for them to learn. But now she's curled up in a ball, sleeping peacefully. At 4:30, we'll head to the vet. I'll bet it's her first time ever seeing one. I'll almost bet money that she has hookworms, tapeworms and heartworms. But at least it's all treatable. She's safe now, and that's what matters.

Breaking the Christmas Streak

2008-12-28T10:58:00.001-05:00

Ever since 1996, my Christmases have been anything but happy times for me. That year, I lost my grandfather on the 13th. I remember every moment of that day so vividly. I was leaving to go to school. My dad was driving me because I was going to be going to UGA for the School Art Symposium, where my artwork had been accepted. I was walking down the front steps when he came behind me and said, "Your mom just called. Your grandfather passed. We'll be going to Atlanta when you get back." Anyone who knows my dad knows he has the same straight face all the time. I've never seen my dad cry in my life. He's always been a solid rock through anything and everything that ever faced our family. I take after him for the most part, but do a lot of crying in private. Anyhow, after Pawpa passed, Christmas was never the same. Every December, something happened to me or a member of my family that just made Christmas time stink. My junior year of college, I decided to stop going to north Georgia with my parents for Christmas. I was more content to just ride it out alone. But a couple years ago I went, and on Christmas Eve, we buried my brother's father (we have same mom but different dads). It was the first Christmas I had seen my entire family.

This December started out just like all the other Decembers. I came down with walking pneumonia. The rescue was broke. I was broke and had no idea how I was going to pay all the medical bills which I found out my insurance wasn't covering. My freelance jobs had run out. Then my truck battery died... at 10 pm, as I was leaving to go get canned puppy food and puppy pads. At least it died in the driveway so I could stay warm in the house while I waited for my roadside assistance to come. But then something strange happened... the tow truck guy saw how distressed I was and at 11 pm offered to follow me to Wal-Mart where I could buy a battery and he'd replace it for me for free. It was so cold that night, of course, I am a wuss about cold most anytime. But the fact that someone was going out of their way to help me out, really changed my whole mood. I was so incredibly thankful to him. And from there, things started to get a little better: I had 8 adoptions in one weekend, picked up a freelance job, got well, and had beautiful, warm weather to give me more time outside, which I love. I even had volunteers from the Savannah Jewish Federation's Trading Places on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day who gave me a big break from taking care of the dogs two nights in a row and left us donations as well. But my big surprise came on Christmas Day.

My parents are very patient people. I can't imagine how disappointed they must have been to work so hard to keep me in Catholic schools for 12 years to see me grow up and not follow the path they thought. My mom really expected me to go corporate, like my brother did. He's been with the same company (though they've changed names umpteen times) since I was in fifth grade. My dad wanted me to follow through with my acceptance to the Coast Guard Academy. But I did neither. I sorta made my path as I went. I never expected that putting myself through college would land me running an animal rescue. It started as a hobby and grew into something so much more, but it's keep me from getting a higher paying job, most likely away from Savannah, and living in a nice, big home like my siblings all have or driving a fancy car. Maybe it's because I was the only child raised on Tybee that I don't have a materialistic drive. I'm content with making just enough money to get by every month (ok, so a bit more than that wouldn't hurt). But come on, what did they expect of me? I got to spend a lot of years without heat, air conditioning and hot water. I've worked since I was 13. If nothing else, my parents instilled in me a very strong work ethic and the drive to never do anything halfway.

So anyhow, back to why this Christmas was great. The weekend before, there were no gifts under my tree. Heck, I had been so sick I hadn't bothered to decorate the tree, but at least it was fiber optic so it had some color to it. My friend, Jeremy, left me a big, beautifully wrapped box, and my parents came and dropped off the gifts they got me before they headed out of town. Now my tree looked a little less bare. I even opened up my door one morning to find a box from a foster parent, and my good friends Heather and Todd left me a card in my tree. And they were all such wonderful surprises. My parents got me four things I asked for my animal rescue work: steel toe boots, cargo pants, a weather radio, and emergency roadside kit. But one gift they gave me that I didn't ask for: a GPS system. I was so excited! I called my mom that morning and nearly screamed. She told me it was something she and my dad decided I needed for all the places I drive for the rescue. That really meant so much to me. The fact that they understand where my heart is made my Christmas so much more special. Then of course there was the lunchtime cookout with Betty and Charles and my little Sparky, followed by a fabulous dinner with two couples from the rescue, the people who have become my extended family.

So, all these years later, I've once again found the spirit of Christmas. I am truly blessed to have good friends, parents who support me, and on occasions, strangers who will give a helping hand. So here's looking forward to next Christmas!

Forclosed and Abandoned

2008-12-21T12:22:00.000-05:00

We all know it's a ruff economy right now. I've been watching as our donations trickled to nothing and adoptions halted completely. There has been nothing worse than having to tell animals "no" every day because we have no more room, no more money, and no help in sight.

But for whatever reason, when I got the call on Wednesday about two abandoned collies (actually shelties) at a foreclosed home in Ardsley Park, I just couldn't bring myself to say no. I was told they were skittish and there was no idea on how long they had been left there (I later learned that the house had been owned by the bank for at least 45 days). I was at work but agreed to come over that evening and trap them after my board meeting. I sat back and thought about it. How many of these calls do I have to keep taking? I've had several landlords give us pets after people were evicted, and poor Hope lived on a chain for who knows how long before the landlord came and found her. Too many people ignore a problem because they don't hear about it. So, I invited WJCL's Stephanie Simoni to join me and show people what is happening in our area and how the economy is affecting pets.

So a little before 8 pm I arrived. It's a neighborhood adorned with Christmas lights and beautiful homes. Lawns are perfectly manicured, vehicles more expensive than I can look at parked on the road. It's not a place I would expect to come for these dogs. In the center of all this is a dark blob, a house that once stood with grandeur and hospitality to guests now something that even Sherman would have ignored. Furniture, trash out on the front lawn and old appliances and boxes cluttered the driveway. I changed clothes, donned my hat and headlamp, grabbed a slip lead and the new Maglite my daddy had given me and began headed to the backyard for the rescue. I swear I could have watched this on animal planet. We could have used Jeff Corwin to navigate the overgrowth.

My heart sank when we got into the backyard. The pool was pitch black, and apparently the only water source for the dogs. There was trash everywhere. The only food available was what the real estate agents had brought that day. What had these dogs been eating all this time to keep alive? I crawled around, setting out food balls strategically, getting them to smell it and hopefully entice them to come near. After about thirty minutes we got a lucky break: we spooked them enough to run into an open door in a sunroom. Now it was just a matter of approaching them slowly to get leads on them and get them out.

I got the first one on lead, and she just cowered down. It took a little longer to get the second one as she kept trying to hide under things. We ended up carrying them out in our arms to the truck as they weren't willing to walk on lead. The whole way home, they never made one sound in the truck. I took their silence to be a good sign, possibly that of relief and hope. I made a quick pit stop for dinner for me, as it was already 9:30 pm and I had worked up an appetite. I laughed as I walked into Arby's and got a strange look: I didn't realize just how dirty I had gotten during our rescue, but I was wearing it with pride.

When we arrived back to the ranch, I unloaded the girls still in their crates into the back yard. I took everyone else out to do their thing then proceeded to ready the grooming room, aka my spare bathroom, for a bath. I didn't realize I'd be there till nearly 2 am. I did Ardslea first. Her's wasn't that bad. A 45-minute brushing with the Furminator got a lot off of her. She was so patient, never moved the entire time. It must have felt so wonderful. Then I put her in the tub and started the water. She got a little nervous, but after a minute just stood there. We latered, rinsed, repeated. No more fleas, no more stinky smell. The towel drying went well, until I brought out the blow dryer. Lord knows if she's ever been groomed before, probably not, but that poor little dryer took a beating once she got ahold of it. I settled for putting towels down in a crate and letting her air dry. I wiped down the floors and proceeded to get Parka.

I'm not a groomer, never have been, never will be, but I am awfully proud of my job on Parka. I sat down with scissors to start cutting her mats. I then realized one entire side was just on big mat. A few years ago, I had bought an electric razor to use on a cocker spaniel named Honey. I hadn't used it since, but was so thankful it was within easy reach. I spent an hour and a half shaving poor Parka's fur. Her tail had been matted to her leg and underside, forcing her to eliminate on herself. I can't even begin to describe the smell and what all fell out when I freed her tail. But like her sister, she just sat there, letting me do my thing. When I got all the matted fur off, I put her in the tub. Obviously tired and knowing that this was the best, she stretched her legs out and lied down, waiting for me to do whatever. We did two shampoos to help get all the stench off the poor girl. She had to feel 1000 times better by now. I will say that she took the dryer much better than her sister, but since she was shaved, there was also less fur to be dryed. I walked her in and put her in the crate with Ardslea and went back to clean up. I came back through 30 minutes later, and there they were, curled up with each other asleep. I smiled and headed to the office to upload photos and send a couple of emails before heading to bed. After all, it was 2:45 am and I'd have to be up by 6 to do my morning chores before heading to work.

I took Ardslea and Parka to Dr. Hassan at Georgetown Veterinary Clinic on Friday. The girls were nervous but at least walking on a leash now. Everyone at the clinic knew them already; we had watched the story on WJCL's 6:00 news together the night before when I was picking Levi up from his neuter. I left them to get their shots, heartworm test, and microchip and check to see if they were already spayed. Luckily, yes, they were spayed, but sadly, they were both also heartworm positive. We'll have to wait two months to start their treatments to give them time to get used to proper nutrition and people again.

I took them back home and to their own kennel space and began to put out their food and water. It was then that I felt something on my shoulder. I turned to look, and it was Ardslea, pawing at me. I sat still for a minute and she did it again. I couldn't stop smiling. I put my arms around her and hugged her, scratching her behind the ears and telling her what a good girl she was. I put the food dish down and walked away, knowing that the girls are going to be ok, and we did something really good this week.

Video online:
http://www.thecoastalsource.com/news/local/36434669.html

Give Thanks by Giving of Yourself

2008-11-25T22:04:00.002-05:00

As we approach the big Thanksgiving holiday, most people are thinking about all the things they are thankful for: family, friends, what is left in their 401K. I'm no different. I'm very thankful for the leadership team at Coastal Pet Rescue, the ones you don't see on TV but give all they have to get the pets into our program, properly cared for, and adopted. I'm thankful for the volunteers and foster parents that give of their time and homes to give our pets a second chance. I'm thankful for my supportive parents who still come to my rescue when I need them.

But today was a bit different. At the office (for my real, paying job), our production manager got all six of us to agree to join her at a blood drive at Second Harvest Food Bank. Turns out, we weren't the only ones that had the same idea as it was a drive coordinated by the Tourism Leadership Council. When we arrived, there was a line, so three of us had to wait, outside, in the cold wind. After 30 minutes I decided to move my truck closer so the other two girls and I could stay warm inside. Another 20 minutes later we were finally able to get in the blood mobile. An hour later, I was giving blood (the other two girls were turned away).

I have never given blood before. I always joke that I only save animals, which is why I'm a Red Cross instructor for Pet First Aid and CPR. I only recently got my certification for Adult First Aid, CPR and AED only because it was recommended by United Animal Nation's EARS program, for which I just got certified last month. I told the lady taking the blood that I was only there out of peer pressure. In fact, four of us were going for the first time. But as I sat up, a little dizzy from the drain, I actually felt a little good for helping people for once. We were each given a Christmas ornament featuring a white dove and the Red Cross logo. Underneath was a small card, "May the joy of giving keep you warm this holiday season."

This Thanksgiving, I encourage you to do something for others that you wouldn't normally do. Perhaps the best way to show your thanks is to pay it forward. You just never know when it might come back to you.

Sidenote:
Here's a quick way you can help others. The Second Harvest Foodbank of Coastal Georgia is a finalist for $100,000 worth of tuna. All they need to win are your votes. You can vote up to 3 times per day with your email address. Click here to lend a hand to your community now.

The Quest for New Jeans

2008-11-21T23:20:00.001-05:00

Ok, so the word is out... I have lost 31 pounds since May 19th. I've gotten lots of compliments, mostly in the form of "wow, look at you." Ok yes, I know I was heavier the last two years than most people have ever known me to be in my life. But I ate my feelings, then the dogs ran it all off. So back to the jeans thing...

I have exactly one pair of jeans that fit me properly. They are left over from my college days and somehow missed the Goodwill transport two years ago. I feel great when I can wear them. The problem is I usually have to change clothes at least twice a day thanks to the pups. The other jeans I have are very loose and let's face it, I'm looking to strut the weight loss a little. Since I had a little down time tonight, I took myself to Savannah Mall, thinking I'd find something to make me feel great. What I found was frustration.

I hate clothes shopping. There are too many choices, and I never know if I'm really getting something that is in style. I much prefer comfort, just as my flip flops, shorts and tank tops, but that's not working for me with this weather right now. I don't remember the last time I went shopping for jeans, but I was incredibly frustrated tonight. Most were "low rise" and "boot cut" or "flare leg," none of which made me feel good. In fact, I was either worried about showing plumber's crack or tripping over my pants. Then there were all the different wash types and the instructions that some of the jeans would have to be washed separately before wearing. Again, this is not helping me to keep a simple and comfortable lifestyle if I have to wash one pair of jeans by themselves. I went through six stores and did not find a single pair I liked. I don't understand the trends today. Perhaps that is a sign that I'm getting older.

All the shopping and trying on clothes made me hungry, so I headed to the food court. I bounced back and forth trying to decide what would satisfy my palate. I ended up at Chik-Fil-A with a #1 combo. I found a seat a little hidden by the plants where I could watch the Hawks game without too many people looking at me like a loser, eating alone in the food court on a Friday night. But truth be told, I love doing that kind of thing. Usually, I'm at Barnes and Noble for a couple hours. I just love books, and since most people in there are fellow geeks and nerds as well, I never feel bad hanging out alone there. But for whatever reason, I really just don't care that I eat out alone so often. I don't have to worry about someone else thinking I'm a pig if I eat my dessert first or if I only order dessert at all. Of course, if I want to keep fitting into a size six jeans I'm going to have to learn to curb my fast food cravings. If nothing else, I can keep doing laps around the mall to work it all off.

So what was the point of this blog? Who knows. It's been a long couple of weeks, I have 12 dogs sleeping in my kitchen because of the cold, and I'm alone for the holidays again. Maybe Santa will bring me a personal shopper this year or better yet, the winning lottery numbers so I can move somewhere that I won't have to wear jeans ever again.

Who I Am

2008-11-19T17:02:00.001-05:00

Recently, I've had some interesting discussions with friends, giving me perspectives about the person they think I am. Some are dead on, others, I think I should defend but maybe they are right as well. Regardless, the findings have been insightful and given me lots to think about.

"Rough around the edges." Ok, yeah, that's not really new. I give some blame of that to my father. Anyone that has ever met the man knows he speaks very little and never tells anyone anything good that he thinks of them. I'm very guilty of this, though I have tried much harder in the last year to do better. I still have some work to do. I'm also very guilty of saying what I'm thinking rather than pausing to reflect before I speak. Maybe that will be a new year's resolution.

"Suspicious [of others] until proven otherwise." It's no state secret that I've been hurt a lot in my life. Those that I allow into my inner circle didn't get in overnight. I take my time building my trust in others. I don't necessarily see this as a bad thing. Too often I have given trust too soon only to be made the fool or worse. So I'm a little protective of myself. It seems fair to be; the only one who is going to look out for me is me.

"Zealot." Ok, really, that I think was a bit much. Yes, I'm very passionate about my animal rescue, but I'm nowhere near the level of "zealot." I much prefer "passionatly determined." Just look at all these cute faces that enter my house with histories of abuse. Wouldn't you be, too?

"Stubborn." Once again, an attribute that is completely my father's genetics. While I may be set in doing things my way, I'm also set in making sure things happen. Yes, I may have run over a person or two along the way, but I'm learning to be better about listening to others before barreling down the road.

I really think these are only small parts of me. I consider myself a simple person (I'm not into materialistic things) who enjoys the comforts of her friends and a good companion. My favorite attire is shorts, tank top and flip flops, and I'll wear them most anywhere. I despise wearing makeup, but understand it is sometimes necessary for a greater good. I'm not a fan of designer labels for anything, though my favorite pair of jeans are my size 8 Tommy Hilfigure's since I love the way it shows off my 31 pounds of weight loss. My favorite foods are chocolate, ice cream and steak, though right now I love chili and roasted marshmellows. I am not a fan of cooking though I love to grill out (I make a fantastic grilled meditteranean chicken). I am a Parrothead, and my lifelong dream has been to meet Jimmy Buffett in person one day. I don't have a single MP3 CD in my truck that doesn't have at least 10 of his songs on it.

I'm also a hopeless romantic. I'm a great fan of Jane Austen and Kate Chopin. I enjoy writing short stories and poetry and listening to love songs on the radio or watching sappy movies on TV. I'm content to sit for hours on the north beach jetties, listening to the waves under the starlight or driving around town with the windows rolled down and wind whipping my hair around listening to my favorite soundtrack.

I also love to learn. If I had my way, I'd be in school again right now. I already have my sights set on my Humane Educator certification in 2009, and possibly a masters degree in public relations. It's not uncommon to find me late at night strolling around Barnes and Nobel breaking the bank with new finds.

On the education topic, I'm also a huge computer geek. It's not uncommon to find me online very late at night working on a project or website or just reading to see what else is out there. While I can troubleshoot lots of things, working on computers outside my home is not something I enjoy. There's a reason I don't work at Best Buy.

I am an incredibly dedicated person, not just to my passions, but to my friends. Since I take time to get to know folks before I trust them, there is very little to sway that trust once it is earned. I have driven across state lines late at night to be with someone who needed me, and on more than one occasion, I've left my comfy and snuggly bed to give someone a ride home from River Street. There is very little I won't do for those I care about anytime I'm asked.

But even greater than all this is my desire to be a mom one day. I've been teased about having lots of practice with the pets, and often times I think there is just no way I could handle a child as frustrated as I get with certain dogs at the ranch. But there's just something in me as I've gotten older that has the desire to share my loves of life with offspring.

So maybe there's something to Shrek's theory about onions and layers, though like Donkey, I much prefer a parfait from Dairy Queen.

Celebrate the Holidays Safely with Your Pets

2008-11-19T16:25:00.000-05:00

It’s a season of giving, but giving too much can be hazardous for your pets.

While you sit with your family at the dinner table, it’s not uncommon to want to give in to those sad puppy eyes staring at you from their bland food bowl.

But sharing food from the dinner table is not the proper treat. Many holiday foods can actually be toxic to pets or cause great illness. Some foods to avoid include turkey, ham, mashed potatoes, yams, stuffing, tomatoes, bread dough, mushrooms, grapes, raisins, raw eggs, anything with onions or garlic, milk, chocolate, caffeine, and alcoholic beverages. Avoid the temptation to give pets bones as cooked bones splinter easily and can cause choking.

If you want your pet to feel included, purchase food items specifically for them from local pet specialty stores. And remember to wrap and store leftovers immediately after dinner. There is very little to stop a determined pet who has been eying your turkey for most of the day.

In addition to food, families should be cautious of hazardous items around their home, including lit candles, potpourri, wrapping paper and ornaments. It is especially critical to keep poinsettias out of reach as they are very toxic to pets.

If you have a concern about something your pet may have ingested, you can call the Pet Poison Helpline at 800.213.6680. If your pet is showing signs of distress, call your veterinarian or the Veterinary Emergency and Specialty Referral Center at 912.356.6113.

(originally posted Nov. 12, 2007 on SavannahPets.org)

A Victory to Keep Going

2008-11-10T15:15:00.001-05:00

I had another fabulous trip to an area ER last Thursday for chest pains again. It's been a couple years since it happened. I thought I had done better about managing stress, but the last couple of weeks have really taken a toll on me.

We spent a lot of months with little adoptions and few donations. But things are looking up. We've had six adoptions over the weekend and a few more scheduled. Our big Yappy Hour event is this coming Saturday, and we're hopeful this will raise enough to pay off our vet bills.

I was finally starting to get my numbers down at the house. But on the way to the Yappy Hour planning meeting, I saw a mom and her two puppies in a yard. The trailer was a little run down, and mom and her babies were really close to the road. I slowed down, trying to be subtle and as to make sure the person following me didn't hit me. I argued with myself, do I stop or not? I had already rescued Cora from just a short way down the road. It's not unusual to see the dogs running back and forth, scaveging for food. I decided to keep going though and that if I saw them on the way back, I would stop for them.

A couple hours later, I was on the way back home. I almost thought of going a different way. I was pressed for time to meet a potential adopter. But I went along, and sure enough, there was mom with the two babies once again. Two vehicles were in the yard this time and a male was standing out in the yard with them, just watching, not interacting at all. Fear overcame me and I drove past. Despite what people might think, I'm really a very passive person and I hate confrontation. But the thought of the skinny mom trying to take care of those babies as the weather gets colder was enough to make me turn around and try.

I was amazed at how calm I was. It almost felt like someone else was speaking for me. I was incredibly diplomatic and asked to see the puppies. The young man said I could have them, that all her puppies were free because she just "keeps dropping them." I learned that this was not her first litter at all and that there were more puppies, but they were all gone. I wanted to take mom, to put an end to the cycle and give her a better chance. I could already see the puppies had wormy bellies and were full of fleas. They were eating wet adult food, not even puppy food. I decided to give the kid my card and tell him if they decided they wanted mom to go live somewhere else, I would take her. Honestly, I didn't know where I would put her, but it would have to be a better life than what she had going on.

I drove home with the two puppies. The smell filled my car so quickly on the short drive. I was eager to get them bathed, but as soon as I started, the potential adopter showed. I introduced him to his potential pup and took to the bath. The poor babies were covered in fleas and dirt, the water ran nearly black. Each puppy cried, completely unsure of what was going on. I dried them off and put them in a crate together along with puppy food and water. They dove into the food dish almost as if they had never seen food before. It broke my heart. The potential adopter left, and I sat back watching the puppies, wondering just how many more of them there might have been and where they are now. About 30 minutes later, the young man called and told me I could come get the mom. I sprinted out the door, down the street and was welcomed so warmly by his mom who was eager to sign the papers to get the dog out of her place.

I see so many dogs that come in and are so eager for attention. We put so much work into them to give them a better life that they usually leave much different than their arrival. As I sat alone in the ER last week, I had thought that my time had come to walk away from rescue, that I had done the best I could with what I had. But despite the defeats, I found a lot of victories this weekend. And that's what I ended up naming my newest momma dog, Victory, as a reminder to me that while not every battle is won, we are making a lot of progress.

Feeling Indifferent on Election Day

2008-11-04T11:28:00.001-05:00

I'll be honest, I thought about skipping out on voting. I was so completely turned off by all the political ads, the bs "he said, she said" back and forth, and the fact that no choice seems to match anything close to the values and lifestyle I lead. I can't help but feel that I'm not alone, that many others out there also feel indifferent about voting. I no longer see candidates who actually represent their constituents. McCain has how many houses and I have to work how many jobs to pay for my one? Obama wants to give more to people who don't make as much but then I might get to keep less of what I've earned for myself. I want someone in office who lives similarly to me, paycheck to paycheck, that really understands my situation and will work to make things better. But instead, we've made our elections process something in which only people who are fiscally well-off can participate. I don't want to see ads about how this candidate or that understands where I come from. I don't remember reading about McCain working with his family since he was a child helping to make ends meet and learning that Santa can't grant every wish at Christmas or that you can't just go to the mall and get whatever you want when you want. And how many winters did Obama spend without heat or hot water? Give me a candidate that has done the best and made something positive of themselves with what little they were given and then I'll give a darn enough to vote.

And that's just national elections. The local ones aren't much better. People running for office have been unresponsive to my requests for help for a very long time, and one candidate, whom I've known since 8th grade, still cannot remember my name anytime he sees me in public even though he's presented me with two national awards in my life. However, when I'm out with my parents, who are big campaign contributors each election, I at least get greeted with a smile and a handshake.

I guess it's a good thing that I have a mom who still cares about and believes in the system. Between her nagging and the offers from Krispy Kreme and Ben and Jerry's, I'm actually going to make it to the polls today.

Why I Have No Faith in Doctors

2008-10-29T10:40:00.000-04:00

I've long not been a fan of doctors, but in recent years, I've become even less and less enchanted with them. I'm not uninsured. I have insurance, I just can't ever use it. Why? Because no doctors are ever available.

For two years now I have been unable to get an appointment with the woman who is supposed to be my GP. If I'm sick and call, I have to wait two weeks for them to work me in, and that's only if I get the right key combination through their automated answering service. Earlier this year, they changed phone numbers and moved. Did I get a notice? Nope. I had to do a Google search, and finally on page 7 of the search results came up with the right number. I decided to try this morning one last time to get in to see this woman. So I called the number and entered what would be the magic combination to get a human to answer. I waited and waited and waited some more before being addressed very curtly by the "operator." I told her I was a current patient, which would have been true if they would have granted any of my appointments in the last two years, but that I needed to be seen this week. I told her what for and that I needed to get shots (a couple of things you should have when working with animals as much as I do) only to be told that they don't do immunizations in their office. Then she hung up on me. Back to the drawing board.

I finally found my insurance card and decided to check online for approved providers. I pulled out three names and called. One doctor said they were accepting new patients but didn't have appointments available for them until January. Two others I got lost in their automated menus and gave up.

I guess I could go to the immediate med place, except that once I'm there, I have to pay a much higher co-pay which leaves me nothing to get whatever meds I might need after the visit and then have to pay another bill a month later when I discover my insurance didn't cover everything. But I will say that on my various trips to them, I've always had exceptional customer service with the nurses and doctors in attendance. So kudos to them.

So it seems to me I have a different health care crisis to deal with. I have insurance, but can't use it because no doctors are available. So why do I even have it? It's taking a huge chunk of my paycheck every month for absolutely nothing. I would be better served putting that money towards my student loans or house payment.

The State of Our Education System

2008-10-24T17:19:00.000-04:00

Let me preface this by saying this has nothing (well, very little) to do with animal rescue, but something that has been on my mind quite a bit in recent months.

I've been reading message boards lately. It seems discipline is a huge issue in our schools. I would agree. I grew up deathly afraid of my parents, grandparents, nuns at my schools, and of course, God. Growing up on Tybee was even worse. If I did anything outside the home, there was no hesitation to tell my parents. I remember running a yellow light on my way home from soccer practice and being scolded later that evening because someone told my mom.

Each year, I conduct humane education programs at various elementary and middle schools in our area. Having spent 12 years in Catholic schools throughout childhood, I am still surprised at the major differences I see when I enter a classroom.

There is a great debate on a message board about paddling in schools. I'm of the mindset that the schools do not exist to discipline, that is a parent's job. However, from what I've seen firsthand in some of the classrooms I've visited, quite a few parents are failing at their job. It's no wonder there is a high turnover rate for teaching positions. I know there is no way I could ever be at most of these schools every day. It's hard enough to tolerate for an hour at a time sometimes.

Two years ago, I attended career day at Largo Tibet Elementary. The first class I spoke with was exceptional, but it went down from there. By the fourth class, students were telling me stories about how their dads or older brothers beat their dogs to train them or how they have puppies for sale regularly. I was so shell-shocked when I left the classroom, especially since the teacher just sat in the back grading papers, apparently thankful to have a babysitter. One of our adoption coordinators was a guidance counselor there at the time and I had to just sit in her office a few minutes to recover.

But then there are other schools that I visit that are on the complete opposite end of the spectrum. I remember the first time I visited with Jacob G. Smith Elementary School nearly four years ago. I walked in with a dog and rather than screams and kids clambering about while a teacher shouted for control, every child remained in their desk and waited politely for their turn to meet my companion. I visit at this school at least once a year and with various grades. It's one of my favorites places to teach each year.

So why are there such differences between these schools if they are run by the same system and have the same hiring practices for educators and staff? I maintain that the problem starts at home. We can't expect teachers to be educators and parents. Yes, I had several teachers growing up that helped shape me into the young woman I am today. They challenged me, or gave encouraging thoughts, or did something to help push me forward and make something of myself. But it was never their job to be my disciplinarian or psychologist.

I honestly don't know the solution to the problem. We argued it a good long while at our Leadership Savannah retreat a few weeks ago. Everyone seems to have their own ideas. I guess we just sit back and hope one day that someone figures out something.

Furminator to the Rescue

2008-10-23T20:46:00.001-04:00

So earlier this week, we got an early Christmas gift: a donated Furminator. For those of you not familiar with the tool, it's to help get out loose hair from your pets to reduce the shedding around your home. We applied to the company to get one after the arrival of Teddy the Malamute who was just covered in mats. So here's how the test went tonight:

Teddy: hates it. It could be that just his personality does not permit him to sit still longer than two seconds, but definitely not worth the hassle with him. We'll be calling on Hoof and Woof next week to take care of that bad boy.

Vienna, 8-year-old 38-pound pug/black lab mix: mixed reviews. She liked it for a little while, but then got tired of the brushing. I was astounded at how much fur came off this girl. She's got such incredibly short hair, you would never think so much is just sitting on her. But we both really liked how much shinier her coat now appears. Since she's going to be on TV tomorrow morning (very early), I feel better about how she will look. Perhaps her new shine will get her a new home.

DaVinci, 3-year-old Rottweiler/Malamute mix: Loved it, or maybe it's just the attention he loves. He hasn't been to the groomer in two months, and it showed. We filled an entire grocery bag and then some with his sheddings.

Hannah, 1.5-year-old Nova Scotia Duck Tolling Retriever: Liked it just fine. Of all the dogs, she tolerated the brushing the best, but that's probably her nature. Hannah remained perfectly still and never balked once at the brushing. We filled a small trash can in my office with her sheddings.

Hemingway, 10-month-old Malamute mix: Hated it, but really, it's probably his puppy ADD that is the problem. I gave up after about 10 minutes of trying. I'll have to get him his own appointment for grooming soon.

So, that's how the dogs fared. Here are my thoughts:

1. The handle needs to be longer. Granted, most people won't be brushing for two hours or longer like I have to do for multiple pets, but my hands still hurt right now. The constant motion I have to use to get the fur real well hurt my wrist a bit.

2. I did not anticipate how much of the fur would stick to myself. I got up off the floor and my red scrubs were covered in black and white fur. The static from the fur also was sticking to the dogs, so I was having to run my hands over them to grab the loose stuff. Given the amount of fur left on my floor and the amount which I inhaled, I almost wonder if this might be a chore better suited for the outdoors.

While the dogs' coats (those that allowed the full grooming) do look better, I really have no way to tell if it helps with the shedding around the house. If there were ever a fur donation program for hairless pets, we could outfit an army of them from what I sweep up every day.

Internet Pet Adoptions: Love at First Sight

2008-10-09T16:54:00.001-04:00

One of the questions I'm always asked is how to you get your pets adopted? Since we are an all-volunteer organization without a physical shelter, we rely on our website to promote our pets. We also list them on other pet websites such as Petfinder.com and similar sites. A good 90% of our adoptions come from these websites.

Can someone really just see a picture and have to have that pet? Yes they can. We've had adopters fly from Maine, Boston and Kentucky to get our pets and many drive up from Florida, down from North Georgia or over from South Carolina. We do not ship them, so adopters are told up front that they must come meet with us and the pet in person to complete the adoption. It's hard to believe that someone would go through all that for a simple picture they saw online, but it's what we count on. I had a reminder of that today.

Last week, we sent out our monthly newsletter in which we always feature a pet. We've decided to feature special needs pets and call it "Help Me Heal," where we provide the photo and information about the pet's special needs and a call for donations. Today, I received the following email from Cathi Denham, owner of At Home Pet Sitters and a yearly sponsor for Coastal Pet Rescue:

"I never really got how someone could look at a dogs picture and fall in
love enough to adopt him or her. Then I saw Herbie's picture and since I can't
adopt him, I can help him to become healthy. Hopefully the bio and link in
my newsletter will get enough donations to cover all of his treatment."

Help from people like Cathi is what we need the most. In Herbie's case, his medical care, when it is all said and done, should be about $800. So while he waits for an adopter to pick him, it's people like Cathi that will ensure he gets the medical care he needs to be around for a lifetime of love.

So take a minute to browse our adoptable pets. You may just find yourself falling in love at first sight.

The Dangers of Cutting Corners for Your Pets

2008-10-07T10:28:00.001-04:00

It's no secret the economy has us all making sacrifices. For most families, having a pet is a luxury that can become costly overtime. When it's time to tighten the wallet, we might decide to change our pet's food to a slightly lower brand and even make cuts for routine veterinary care and flea or heartworm preventative. The bad news is that doing so may cost you more in the long run.

Pet's digestive systems are really very sensitive. Changing their food can cause loose or runny stool or maybe worse. Some pets have allergies to ingredients or food dyes in certain foods. If you are looking to reduce your costs, having to make emergency runs to your vet due to a reaction to food will not help.

The same goes for flea treatments. I can't stress enough how important it is to follow your vet's recommendations. There are reasons these products can only be bought at your vet's office. Some pets have bad reactions to certain products. If you think purchasing a cheaper product at Wal-Mart is going to make a difference, guess again. Thousands of pet parents have posted their horror stories at HartzVictims.org. There have been multiple lawsuits against the company over the years, and EPA even forced them to remove one of their products for cats.

I can't stress enough the importance of monthly heartworm preventative. This year already we have treated 12 dogs for heartworms and three more are waiting for us to get the funds so they may be treated. This is the most easily preventable parasite. A six month supply will cost around $60 depending on the size of your dog. One treatment to kill the heartworm infection may cost you $600. Just last month, we took a dog from a couple who admitted they hadn't given a heartworm pill to in a few months. We had to immediately have her tested. We were lucky she was negative, but it was probably due to the fact that her coat was rather matted so the mosquitos couldn't get through. Again, this is something you can get only from your vet, and that's a good thing. Certain breeds actually carry a high sensitivity to the ingredients in certain heartworm medications. Collies in particular should not be given anything that is ivermectin-based as it could actually be fatal to the dog.

So where can you cut corners with your pets? Well, obviously my answer is that you shouldn't. Instead, curb your Starbucks or fast food habits and put that money away for your pet's care. I know it hasn't been easy for me to give up my daily ice cream habit, but sometimes, you have to give up the instant gratification for long-term happiness. Your pets give so much to you unconditionally, is it really so much for you to give a little to them?

Don't Make Me Adopt You to Jesus

2008-10-06T21:32:00.001-04:00

I remember growing up hearing the phrase "I gave you life, I can take it away" from TV parents. Although my parents never said those exact words to me, I'm sure there were thoughts similar to those that entered their minds from time to time.

Over the last few months, I have found myself uttering a similar phrase for a couple of my extra special furballs of joy. For the most part, I love what I do. I love the dogs being here, watching them heal and evolve. But there are just a few that love to push boundaries and try my patience as much as possible.

This morning, I had to get up at 4 am to appear on the WJCL and FOX 28 morning shows. This requires me getting up extra early to take all the dogs out, give them a small snack to appease them until I return at breakfast time, as well as actually do some makeup and something with my hair. Today, I donned my pirate costume to promote our event with the Tybee Island Pirate Fest this weekend. So I went through the process, got everyone ready, or so I thought. I did the headcount in the house and found that someone was missing. I went back out, and there was Hope in the yard, tossing a toy she had found up in the air and catching it then tossing it again. I was so proud watching her finally play. But here it was, just after 5 am and time for me to load up Junior and head to the TV studio. But at that same moment in time, Hope developed amnesia to her name and proceeded to play her new game all around the full half acre of our fenced in yard. I conceded and closed her in the big play yard and proceeded back to the house to leave.

After our show, I had to pick up a dog that was being returned. Returns are never easy, but it's even harder when the dog you are picking up was adopted out as a cute, bouncy puppy. Everyone wants cute puppies, very few want larger, grown dogs. And as it turns out, this one has never heard of the word discipline. Within a couple of hours of being here, she tore apart some chainlink, dug a nearly three-foot wide hole, and refused to obey any commands. She is all puppy all the time, and I am seriously going to have my work cut out for me if I'm ever going to find her another home.

So every day, I wear my St. Francis of Assisi medallion around my neck and hold it tight, finding the strength I need to bring out the best in these pets.

The Angels Among Us

2008-10-05T23:00:00.000-04:00

Years back, Alabama came out with a beautiful song titled "Angels Among Us." Having lost all my grandparents in my teen years, I often clung to that song and the belief that my grandparents were still with me, helping guide me through some of the rough times.

More recently, that song has come back to mind as I've discovered helping hands around me. I realized it mostly tonight after a long conversation with my mom. She finally admitted that she has been worried about me, primarily that I don't take enough time for myself. I admitted to her that it hasn't been easy, but that I've never been happier. Yes, cleaning up kennels and poop, feeding and medicating muliple dogs everyday is a lot of work, and I don't always like the 5 am wake up calls (4 am on media days), but it is the life I have chosen for myself and not one I'm looking to give up.

So during our conversation, I reassured her that it was ok, things were starting to look better. Last week, a Sarah Wright of Right Touch Cleaning donated her cleaning services. What a treat it was to walk in from work (yes, I work a real job) and smell a clean house and be able to see the counters. I was actually able to walk from the front door to the dog area without tripping over food boxes, leashes or whatever event materials I was too tired to put away. I've never had a cleaning service before, but I tell you, when I win the lottery, I will definitely have Sarah back!

Yesterday, my surrogate big sister and I attended a workshop in Charleston. We are now certified disaster response volunteers for United Animal Nation. But since our instructor was so amazing and got us out of the workshop two hours early, big sis suggested we hang out and enjoy the town a little bit. We had sitters for the pups, and we never get to just hang out together anymore because of so many commitments. So we took to the marketplace, browsing here and there. Big Sis indulged my Parrothead pilgrimage through Margaritaville, and I kept my hands to myself as we went into all the finer places she loves to shop. We attempted to have dinner at a 4th generation family-owned seafood place, but after not getting any service, we headed down to Bubba Gumps and had fabulous service. But the best part of the whole trip was the ride up and back, reconnecting as "sisters," talking about our thoughts and frustrations and just getting close again. She's been my cheerleader for the last year and a half, seeing me through challenges and lifting me up when I needed the boost. It felt great to be able to spend time with her again.

But today, I welcomed 21 angels to the ranch. A local Junior Girl Scout troop came out to volunteer their time towards the earning of their Bronze Award. A former Girl Scout myself (and Silver Award holder), I was more than happy to have them visit with us. The girls were not afraid of anything; they got down and dirty, taking on a job that I normally have to do on my own. But what astounded me was as they finished, they kept coming to ask me what more they could do. The ended up bathing all the dogs, which I always see as such a chore but they found incredibly delightful, actually fussing to get time with the suds and water. I watched these 9 and 10-year-olds show such pride in their work and find such joy in helping animals. It really gives me hope that the future will be much better for animal welfare.

I had one more angel join me today. My buddy Gary from Daniel Lumber came back out to help repair the chainlink a few dogs had torn apart. Gary has been an angel to me since January when we met at the Home and Garden Expo. He came out and realized what was going on out here and how little space I had for myself. He gave up two vacation days of his own to put in a divinging fence and give me a little outdoor space to relax. I honestly was taken aback by his selflessness as it is not something I've seen much of in this work.

I don't think it takes an extraordinary act to make someone an angel. Often times, it's the little things someone gives of themselves that make the biggest difference.

Where's My Bailout Plan?

2008-10-01T00:45:00.001-04:00

I'd really like a bailout plan to finance all the pets that keep getting dumped at my house. But I'm sure I'm not alone. Most non-profits are feeling a big pinch in donations this year. For me personally, I've given up my Starbucks habit and curbed my trips to Tybee to conserve gas. I've been very good all along of making sure not to leave lights on when they aren't needed, but that doesn't seem to have made a difference on my electric bill. I still haven't replaced a lot of things on my truck either, such as the antenna that broke off during a puppy transport or the wheel caps that were stolen one night while I was at a performance downtown.

But I guess we all learn what we can and cannot be without. When I was younger, we lived on our boat since we didn't have a house. To most people, that would be awesome. But my bedroom was one side of a V-birth. There was no heat, no a/c, and no hot water and most of all, no doors except to the bathroom. But my fondest memories are of sitting on top of the boat late at night, watching the stars and listening to the creek rush by. I often slept outside because it was more soothing. I would get up in the mornings and eat my pop tarts on the dock while watching the dolphins play before going to school. My dad had a 1972 Volkswagon Thing. We'd load up our two dogs and head down to St. Michael's, never going more than 25 MPH. I can remember clearly the smell of the salt air and how big I would smile with the wind wrapping my hair around me. We didn't have much back then, but my dad made the best of it for us all.

Looking around me now, it seems I'm doing just fine. I just have to keep reminding myself that once upon a time, things seemed incredibly tough and comfort hard to find. But it really wasn't that bad after all. One day, I hope to look back on my life now and say the same thing.

Announcing the Launch of PetFriendlyTybee.com

2008-09-23T23:52:00.002-04:00

Have you ever wondered where you can take your pet and have some fun? Two weeks ago, I got together with Southern Images Photography to launch an online directory of pet-friendly establishments around the Savannah area. The first site launched features Tybee information, particularly reviews of the dog parks, two restaurants, and the RV park. The site is in its infancy and suggestions are welcome. Each establishment has been evaluated by a CPR rescued pet. Take a look around to see how you and your pup can enjoy a day on the island.

http://www.petfriendlytybee.com

Cora's Big Day Out & Hope's Major Milestone

2008-09-23T17:33:00.001-04:00

On Saturday, Cora and I met up with a friend of mine and his dog Jake, a purebreed Blue Heeler, to check out some pet-friendly places out on Tybee Island. This was Cora's first big outing, and her last for awhile as she was admitted to the vet's office this morning to start her heartworm treatment. What was amazing to me was to see just how much this dog had attached herself to me, her rescuer. At one point, I left Cora alone with my buddy and Jake in the small dog park while I ran back to the car to get something. Not even a minute later, Cora was right on my heels. We haven't figured out if she jumped the fence or ran under it (it's not secure at all), but as soon as I turned around she jumped up at me as if to say "Why did you leave me?" And the rest of the day, I made sure never to be out of her sight. But I found out just what a velcro dog she is when we went to dinner at The Crab Shack. I got up to wash my hands, maybe 10 feet from our table, still in eye sight, and be darned if she didn't come right after me, dragging my chair behind her! We finished the day with doggy ice cream at Sonic, and the little darling slept all the way home, sitting in my front seat with her paws stretched across the console on to my legs.

Over the last few weeks, I've been working with Hope to slowly get her used to other dogs. Having lived her life on a chain, she is very defensive when they come near her. A few days ago, she was out in the small yard with Hannah and seemed fine, not a single growl. Today after I got home and let all the dogs out for playtime, Hope ran to the door and started scratching to go out as well. Normally, she hangs out in the office with me, cuddled with her favorite stuffed animal. I was like a nervous mom watching her child go off on her first day of school. I opened the gate and let Hope out, nervous about what might happen, if the other dogs would be nice. She pranced all around the yard, jumped around the empty pool, over one of the dog houses, and behind each of the pens. She stayed out for about an hour, no incidents. I came back out to check on her and she was at the gate, waiting to come back in the house. She just found a place and curled up, ignoring the other dogs. I feel like we've hit a major milestone with her, and I couldn't be prouder!

It's watching dogs like Cora and Hope that remind me just what patience can do for a pet. Just giving a little of your time and love here and there really can change their lives.

Special Needs Pups - My Martian Children

2008-09-15T18:00:00.001-04:00

This afternoon, I caught a movie I hadn't seen before on HBO called "Martian Child." I'm a huge fan of John Cusack and have his autograph in my senior yearbook since our school was smack dab in the middle of the set for The Movie. Anyhow, I kept it on while I was working and found myself really relating to the whole plot.

Basically, Cusack's character decides to adopt a special child, Dennis, that has been abandoned by his parents. As his way of coping, Dennis tells everyone he is from Mars and that he is here just for a mission. He speaks his own language, has his own way of dressing and doing things, and doesn't socialize well with other children. Cusack grows to love Dennis despite everyone else telling him that Dennis may be too much for him and his sister even tries to convince him to give Dennis back. But Cusack stands firm and convinces Dennis of his love and unconditional understanding. It's pretty much the way I feel about our special needs pets.

Right now, I am fostering five special needs pets. It's like a science fair experiment as they never tell us up front what is wrong, we find out along the way. We just give what we have and hope for the best. Sometimes, they sit with us for a long time, waiting for someone else to come along that will see what we see, but in the world of animal adoption, it's not always easy for people to see past the superficial, which hurts me sometimes.

Those who see Hope today for the first time would never understand her transformation in the last two months. A dog, left abandoned on a chain, no one to care for her, had absolutely no reason to accept the kindness of a human without question. Yet as we cleaned her wound daily, left behind after the chain was removed, we found it hard to keep her still from the constant kisses she was giving. Today, her wound is completely healed and her fur has grown over most of the scars. She prances in and out of the house, happily taking jaunts around the yard then immediately back in for some good lap cuddling time. I could swear she smiles at us, thanking us every day for giving her a dry, clean place to stay, good nutrition, and constant praise for being the good girl no one ever noticed before. Now all that is left is for someone else to look in her eyes and see all the love and adventure she has to offer.

So here I sit, typing away, my little Martian child snoring with her favorite stuffed animal. She's safe and loved. I guess that makes it a pretty good day.

Gas... Who Isn't Ticked?

2008-09-12T21:52:00.000-04:00

Last night, I had two phone calls from people in SC urging me to fuel up. I needed to run to Wally world for posterboard anyhow, so I stopped and got gas. I think it was $3.53. I couldn't be glad enough that I did.

When I finally left the house this evening, it was $3.89 with cars five and six deep. I drove into town, passing the first Enmark by Savannah Mall... I couldn't believe it: $4.39. What in the world? What was even worse was as I got closer to my destination and found the El Cheapo on Montgomery Crossroad at $4.69. I think their sign should be shot down.

It's been hard enough on me making ends meet month to month. I even work a part-time job on the weekends to make up for the lack in my regular paycheck. But now, I'm actually losing money trying to go to work (let's remember that I do NOT get paid for doing the rescue; it is all volunteer). I had already been doing well with conserving my driving this summer to just what is necessary, no longer taking joy rides down to Barnes and Noble for a book and frappucino.

We are participating in a big event tomorrow, GreenFest, and now I worry the attendance will be low due to people trying to stay home. I can't say I blame them, but when we have been struggling so much for donations this year, and adoptions have dwindled incredibly since spring, what kind of hope does that leave us to keep helping those in our programs? Just how many more hits can we keep taking?

But while I'm on the subject, I need to give a big thank you to a young lady who donated two hours of her cleaning service to help me out yesterday. Sarah Wright of The Right Touch Cleaning Service answered one of my prayers last week. I spent most all day in bed yesterday, covered by pillows, with a bad migraine. Sarah came and cleaned up after the dogs for me, something I had not had the time to do in the last two weeks. It was so nice to walk in the house tonight and smell cleanliness as opposed to dirty, wet dog. So, while we may be struggling, it is nice that others can take time out to help us in ways that mean so much. So thank you, Sarah, for being so giving.

What Else Would I Be Doing?

2008-09-08T00:10:00.001-04:00

I had that question asked of me last week, and it's been on my mind.

I'll admit, on rough days, I think about how I could be living on the water and driving a convertible with all the money I would have saved from not running an animal rescue. My 8th grade yearbook says I wanted to be a dolphin trainer when I grew up, and I originally went to college to become a journalist. I fell into web design as a geek and under peer pressure from my honors classmates. I've always held Jimmy Buffett as my idol, and I dream of visiting all 50 states at least once. I'd like to go for my captain's license finally, finish getting a master's degree, teach again, and fall in love. I still toy with the idea of skydiving, though I think I might stick to just parasailing for now.

Last week, we moved my dining room furniture out to make more room for crates for our special needs pets that need confinement and rest. But during the middle of the night, when I awoke to the crying sounds of a new rescue having a rough night, I realized I would like to have someone to look after me like that. There have been times in the past when I have slept in my truck to have more peace than I was getting at home. It's not their fault, I know that, but there are times I just want to be a little selfish. I have gotten accustomed to being home early to give meds and last time outs for potty, which means my social life pretty much ends by 9 pm. Thus my Internet addiction, what would I do without MySpace and Facebook?

I know this is where I'm supposed to be for now. Hope is sleeping snuggly in her crate with her two stuffed animals nestled beneath her, never to have to be chained again. Little Ike is sleeping peacefully in a dry, soft, comfy bed with a full tummy, probably the first he's known in many years. Herbie is no longer coughing, Lady is no longer scratching at her matted fur, Cora is no longer dodging traffic, Kuma no longer has to be a mom, and Junior, well, he's not happy being in a crate but at least he won't have to have his leg amputated for lack of care. Things are looking up for all of them, it would just be nice to have a fairy Godmother to send me a maid, a landscaper, a cook, and some flowers once in awhile.

Though I don't foresee a time soon that I won't be doing animal rescue, I'm very hopeful that our volunteer and support base will increase so I could start to take a little bit more "me" time once in awhile. Maybe I'll even make my dream of meeting my idol come true, if the darn hurricanes will leave anything of Key West for the rest of us.

Hanna: A Warning to Us All

2008-09-04T16:30:00.001-04:00

I don't know about everyone else, but for the last week I feel like I've been on a roller coaster with Hanna. Will she affect us or won't she? It still seems to not be a clear answer. We've been working hard to ensure the safety of our pets and the continuation of our program. Which brings me to the subject of this post: are YOUR pets ready?

Downloads Now Available
Yesterday, we updated our "Hurricane Planning for Pets" page on CoastalPetRescue.org. We now have a packing checklist and animal identification form available for download. Additionally, we've added some links you may want to keep handy as we watch next week to see what Ike will do.

Purchase a Pet First Aid Kit
Thanks to our partnership with the Savannah Chapter of the Red Cross, we have a limited supply of pet first aid kits available for sale. This can be a valuable asset if anything happens with your pets during a storm or evacuation.

Pet Identification and Microchips
Do you have proper identification for your pets? Check now to make sure your pets have a properly-fitted collar with identification tag. Instead of your pet's name, put two phone numbers on the tag. If your pet is microchipped, take the time now to make sure the microchip registry has the most current contact information for you. 24PetWatch offers free registration of all chips through their online registry. If you have had your pet chipped through one of our low-cost clinics, you can refer to your yellow registration copy to get your ID number and register your pet online or update your information.

Where Can You Go?
If an evacuation is ordered, pet shelter openings will be announced by emergency management officials. However, you should consider asking friends or family where you will be staying first if your pet can come with you. If so, plan to take a crate for them to stay in so as to not impose upon your hosts. If not, start looking now for boarding kennels or veterinary offices where you will be going to have you pet boarded nearby. Additionally, make sure you have the name, address and phone number of the nearest veterinarian in the event your pet needs care during the evacuation.

When traveling with your pet, it is important that all vaccinations are current. Make sure to have copies of all medical records from your current veterinarian. Georgia State Law regulates that all pets, dogs and cats, have a yearly rabies vaccination. If you are taking your pet to an emergency shelter, your pet will not be admitted without proof of current vaccinations. Additionally, boarding facilities usually require the bordetella vaccine to protect against kennel cough. If your pet does not travel well, talk to your veterinarian about your options to make their trip less stressful.

Please, don't even think of leaving without your pets. Our animals are too domesticated and may not survive through a storm. Many pets found in the days after Hurricane Katrina were loaded with parasites, worms and heartworm disease from drinking bad water and living in filth. Do not leave your pets chained outside either as they could drown in flooding or suffocate trying to seek shelter.

While we may be breathing a little easier today than earlier this week, we are not out of hurricane season yet. Please take the time now to reduce your stress level. Hanna gave us a good warning that anything can happen, so plan now.

Get the latest in tropical developments online at Coastalstorms.com

WalMart: Low Prices, Low Compassion During Hurricane Preparations

2008-09-03T18:33:00.003-04:00

I spent my Labor Day making arrangements for our rescued pets, ensuring their safety and few hassles for foster parents needing to take care of their own families. So, I braved a trip to WalMart to stock up on dog food, chewies, water, and an 8-pack of paper towels. It was only as I was putting everything away that I realized I left the paper towels.

On the way home from work today, I stopped and took my receipt in to the customer non-service desk and explained the situation. After looking in "the book," the rep said there wasn't anything she could do because it wasn't listed in the book. I asked to speak with a manager. After hollering "Kathy" multiple times with no one answering her call, the rep finally walked off and got "Kathy." I was not greeted with a smile or "how can I help you?" as you see on the TV commercials (maybe she gets paid much less than those actors, who knows?). Instead, I got a "you need somethin'," said with great impatience. I explained the situation to her again. She looked again in "the book," and said there was nothing she could do. I explained that these were storm supplies for our animal rescue. Her response? "It's not our liability." Nice. What great compassion to show during the first tropical storm threat to our area since Hurricane Floyd.

I know my boycott of them (I even passed up the $3.49 gas) won't do much of anything, but it makes me feel a little better. At least Kroger is just up the road. I guess I'll be seeing them a little later tonight.

Hurricane Season is in Full Swing... Are You Prepared?

2008-09-02T11:55:00.001-04:00

It seems like we just got through wondering about Fay, now we have Hanna, Ike and Josephine out in the Atlantic. It doesn't look like we'll have a boring September, to say the least.

Chatham Emergency Management Agency has started issuing releases regarding Hurricane Hanna and her impact on coastal Georgia. At this time, CEMA is in Operating Condition (OPCON) 4, the Monitoring Phase as defined by the Georgia Emergency Management Agency. OPCON 4 is the first stage in advanced readiness. What this means to the rest of us is to start taking inventory of our hurricane storm plans. Some actions you can take:

Monitor local media for updates
Make sure your gas tank is full
Secure important documents in a water-proof container and have in one place
Take photos and videos of your home, possessions, and anything else you might need for insurance purposes
Check that you have plenty of water and non-perishable food
Check and replenish first aid supplies
Make sure you have immediate access to flashlights and battery-powered radio and extra batteries
Secure outdoor lawn furniture and loose objects
Have cash on hand to use if power is out

I spent most of yesterday making arrangements to move pets from our rescue further inland. I can't tell you how difficult that was to try and get boarding set up. One kennel said no, another told us they would call us Wednesday afternoon if they hadn't already booked everything else. As a rescue reliant upon foster homes, I don't have the luxury of waiting until an hour or two before a storm hits to make decisions. I have to account for our pets so our foster parents can take care of their own families.

Presently, I am anticipating riding out the storm unless given an order to leave. I have my gas tank filled, extra cash on hand, checked my first aid supplies, bought extra bags of dog food and gallons of water yesterday, stocked up on non-perishable food for myself, and bought extra batteries for my flashlights. I even went and purchased an American Red Cross AM/FM/Weather radio that also has a cell phone charger to make things a little easier when power goes out. Now all that's left for me to do is to teach at least one of the dogs to play cards so we have something to do.

In all honesty, we too often take for granted a storm is going to miss us. With hurricanes, their paths are a best guess by meterologists and their computers, and always just that: a guess. Mother Nature has been known to throw curve balls from time to time (remember the St. Patrick's blackout?), so it is better to prepare now than fall victim to her whims later.

For information on how you can prepare, visit our hurricane and evacuation information site, CoastalStorms.com.

No Type A on Tybee

2008-08-30T23:15:00.000-04:00

I've been accused many a time of being type A+ personality. A couple years ago, my friend Karen that has a rescue across the river called me the "posterchild for Obsessive-Compulsive Over-Achievers of America." She's probably right; I do put a lot on myself to always do better and be better. But a lot of that slid by this summer.

Back in June, I started going to work for my parents at the marina on the weekends, something I hadn't done in many years. I had forgotten how much I loved being on the water and what a difference it makes for making me relax. I had the joy of meeting some new friends this summer that helped me remember how blessed I have been to have a life on the water. I took to late night fishing out in the Atlantic, sitting on the dock watching the tide change, and tonight, even a sunset parasail ride.

But as Labor Day draws my summer to a close, I have to say goodbye to these great new friends of mine. It is something I got accustomed to growing up on Tybee; people float in for the season and haul out at the end. It's still never easy, and you always feel a twinge of sadness at their leaving. But you remember the fun you had and hug your goodbyes, always extending the invitation to return another time.

For me, I wonder if this will be the end of my weekly reprieves. True, working seven days a week has been tiring, but I feel less tired at the end of my marina work days than I do during the week. Perhaps it is because I know that deep down, I belong there, that this life I created to change the world doesn't have to be the only life I know anymore. I guess time will tell. For now, I'll enjoy the final celebration of summer with fireworks, good friends and family, and look forward to not having to have a plan for everything everyday.

Special Needs Shouldn't be a Death Sentence for Pets

2008-08-28T15:57:00.000-04:00

Recently, I made an appeal for financial help for four of our pets (now five) that are needing extra medical care before adoption. One person wrote me that we were wasting our funds instead of using the money to save more animals that are healthier. To me, that's incredibly insensitive and ignorant.

First off, we don't know the needs of a pet until we get them. Would it make a difference if in their holding cells at animal control they held up a sign that said "I'm going to cost you $2,000 in vet care"? No, and it shouldn't. An animal should not be given a death sentence because of ignorance or cruelty of their previous caretakers. How can I look at Hope who had already had extensive medical care and needs more to treat her heartworms and tell her that, although she survived several years of intense neglect that she costs us too much to continue living? I can't, just like we fight as hard as we can for the puppies we take that turn out to have parvovirus but may not always make it.

We are rescuers. We're compassionate and sometimes our hearts overrule our heads. My job is to make sure we don't go too far in debt so that we can keep up with the care of the pets already in our programs. But I also see these special needs pets as educational tools to the public. Several times I walked Hope at PetSmart or the vet and had people ask what happened to her neck, why did she have a lot of skin exposed. When I tell her story, you can see the shock in their faces. If nothing else, it makes me feel like they will remember her story and maybe be more considerate of pets in similar situations and take action rather than let them suffer.

Special Needs Pets Need a Little Help

2008-08-27T16:07:00.001-04:00

We can all agree the economy right now is hard on everyone, but non-profits especially are feeling the pinch. At Coastal Pet Rescue, we're doing all we can to keep our services available to those in need, but we still need a little more support.

Coastal Pet Rescue currently has four dogs undergoing special and extensive medical care:

Hope

Hope is a very special dog. She was left behind when her family moved, and the landlord found her tied up in the yard on a chain. Sadly, she had spent so much time out there, the collar grew into her neck. The landlord left her at the Savannah Emergency Veterinary clinic. The techs fell in love with her and called Coastal Pet Rescue to take her. Hope was maintained on pain management and antibiotics and had her wound sutured before she was picked up by CPR.

Since her arrival to CPR, Hope was transferred to Georgetown Veterinary Hospital and her wound was re-opened to reduce complications in the healing process. She was boarded with GVH to receive ongoing, daily care for her wound and came home to her foster mom July 29.

Unfortunately, Hope also tested strong positive for heartworms. Given the severity and the issues surrounding her current state, Hope will be on Heartgard for three months before she can have her treatment. She will be under heartworm treatment for two months thereafter, at least. If everything goes right, Hope should be ready to be adopted between Christmas and New Year's.

Kuma

Kuma and her son, Kobi, were found wandering the streets. After two weeks of searching for an owner, they were turned over to Coastal Pet Rescue.

Kuma is a typical Golden Retriever, loves to give kisses and will follow you everywhere. She has gained weight and her fur is no longer coarse. However, she is heartworm positive. She has already received her first treatment. She will start her second treatment the first week of September.

Cora

She was found at a dump site during the rains of tropical storm Fay. Our president spent over a half hour gaining her trust to get her home to someplace dry with good food. Coastal Pet Rescue had her spayed and shots administered, however, it turns out she is also heartworm positive and will need treatment.

Junior

This sad little boy found his way to Chatham County Animal Control after being hit by a car and left at the emergency vet due to financial limitations of his family. Junior is getting around great right now, but is enjoying resting comfortably in his foster home and being nursed by his older foster sister. He is currently undergoing exams at Georgetown Animal Hospital to determine the extent of his injuries and the necessary medical treatment needed.

Please consider making a contribution towards their care. Even $10 can really add up for these pets.

Tropical Storm Fay Brings More than Just Wind and Rain to CPR

2008-08-22T23:53:00.003-04:00

It seems like it has been forever since I've seen the sunshine. For me, that's devastating. I love being outdoors, and lately, I've been spending more of it back home on Tybee. But alas, it is hurricane season and Fay had to bring all she could to our area, which means my home has been filled with dogs frustrated because they can't go outside and play and the smell of wet puppy for the times I drag them out to go potty.

So today, I worked from home. I made an attempt to watch Transformers on HBO, but it kept getting interrupted by all the tornado warnings. Then around 2, my email popped open with a photo of a puppy... taken by one of our board members at animal control. Unfortunately for me, it wasn't the puppy she had gone there to see. After two phone calls, arrangements were made for her and another officer to bring over four new pups to our program. It's still pouring sheets of rain outside, but luckily enough another volunteer came over to prep the house for the new intakes: one matted adult poodle in desperate need of a good bath, one 10 week old black lab puppy, one five month old flat coated retriever puppy, and one dog with a busted leg. What a halfway house this has become.

A few hours later, everyone is settled, I'm finally out of my PJs (was sporting the lazy look today), showered and headed over for a home-cooked meal since Wendy owed me for the new intakes. Wouldn't you know it, on my way over, I spotted three dogs scrounging for food at the dump yard. It's still raining, and I feel awful for them, even though I knew they wouldn't come to me if I stopped. But I just couldn't keep driving. I turned around, pulled over and grabbed my cans of food out of the back of the truck. Two dogs ran off, but one little girl waddled over to me, tail down but wagging a little. She stopped just a foot in front of me, head down. I held out the can of food, which she tried to take and run. I kept ahold of it, stroking her head and telling her what a nice girl she was. Her body changed... stood up completely, and her tail started wagging as a happy dog should. It was then I noticed her belly... and had to figure out what in the world I would do with a pregnant dog at home. I stood up to look in the truck for a slip lead, but before I could, she ran across the street after one of the other dogs. My heart nearly stopped as she was almost hit by a car. I called to her, begged her to stay put, but she just kept running off. I got in the truck and followed her, keeping a lookout for other traffic. I pulled off to a side road ahead of her, got out, and called to her again. She was wagging her tail but didn't want to leave her companion. He ran across the street again, and she after him. Not to be outdone, I stayed, trying to coax her back safely. Another car was coming, I called to her to stay put, as if she would really understand me. The car saw me and stopped, probably more afraid of what the crazy person in the rain sitting on the side of the road might do. I ran across and she just rolled over on her back, half in the road. I grabbed her and pulled her to me just as another car was coming from the same direction. I waited for traffic to clear, scooped her up and ran back across, putting her in the truck. I hadn't even bothered to notice that I had slipped and twisted my knee again, the same one I tore my MCL just a few short months ago. Maybe I'll remember next time that running across a busy street in the rain while wearing flip flops isn't the best idea.

We arrived back at the ranch and I got her settled in to an open kennel. I poured the remaining canned food into a dish and ran inside the house to get some fresh bedding. Before I got back, the food was gone, not even a drop left. I sat with her for a little while, reassuring her that she was safe and we'd take good care of her. She just kept wagging her tail and sat in my lap. I don't know if she really understands what is going on, but I know my heart is still pounding from the excitement. It's been awhile since I've gotten so hands on in the rescue work; usually, someone else just dumps them on my doorstep or calls to get them a ride. Even though I was soaked and covered in mud, I felt the best I've felt all week. And, I still made it to dinner afterall.

Olympic Spirit

2008-08-17T12:00:00.002-04:00

For the first time since the 1996 Olympics, I've been glued to the coverage. I have my friend Eddie to thank for that, as I hadn't watched a moment of it until he brought me into his addiction. But watching the sports reminded me of my Olympic memories.

In 1995, my parents got on board to help out individuals trying out for the US Olympic sailing team. We were flat broke; my parents had invested all their savings to start a dream life on Tybee. They gave up lucrative careers to build something for themselves and to give me a better life. We had no heat, no air conditioning, and no hot water, but we had hospitality, dock space, and plenty of room for camping out. My dad heard about the sacrifices so many of these athletes were making. One couple had sold their home and moved into an RV to help their son with costs for training and tryouts. So my dad put out an offer that any US athlete trying out or making it to the Olympics could stay with us for free. Being the small community we are here at the waterfront village, the shrimpers at our dock provided shrimp and two others had low country boil waiting on the dock each night the teams came back from practices and trials. I didn't realize back then just how much these athletes loved what they were doing. I saw them off every morning and greeted them every evening. Whether they had a good day or a bad day, they were always just thankful to be out there.

When the Olympics finally came around in 1996, we hosted two of the US teams, the entire Italian (FIV) team and its president and the Cayman Islands team which was being coached by one of the US teams we hosted during the 1995 trials. Once again, we were having nightly low country boils and talking about their days' work. I was treated to several trips to the Olympic Village downtown. I can't say anything has ever come quite close to that experience, being surrounded by the greatest athletes from around the world. Even though I only played soccer and had never spent much time on sailboats, I was in awe each time I got to go down there. I even got front seats aboard the coach boat for the Caymans team to watch the actual Olympic races.

This past Tuesday, I had the honor of attending a breakfast celebrating former Olympic athletes now living in Savannah. To listen to their stories, especially for the athletes from Mali and the Sudan, you could never quite comprehend the level of commitment and love for the sport. I played soccer up through my freshman year of college, but I did it for fun. I had no addiction to the sport, I just enjoyed playing. But these athletes made huge sacrifices, often going against the odds. If I only had an ounce of their dedication and passion, I wonder what I could really do.

I spent last night hanging out with my dad watching the Olympics at the Legion on Tybee. My mom is out of town for a family funeral, and it is the first time she's left my dad alone in 14 years, so I came to spend some time with him. My dad rarely talks, but as we were watching the Olympics last night, he started telling stories from our parts in 1995 and 1996. He glowed with pride to be able to tell others about how much support he was able to give to teams that left their homes and had hardly anyone here cheering them on. I never quite knew just how much that meant to him until he was sharing it all with me last night. He even still keeps the pennants all the teams signed up on our office walls. But what really stunned me last night was how much the Olympics actually bonded us. We were the ones here every morning to wish them luck and we were the ones here every evening to welcome them home. And last night, we were here once again, together, cheering on our favorite teams.

Finding Hope

2008-08-06T22:11:00.003-04:00

I've been struggling with what to write as so much has been going on in my life recently. But I guess it all starts at the crossroads.

In July, I left to spend some time in Cincinnati for the possibility of relocating. It took awhile to get everything squared away for the pups so I wouldn't worry while I was gone. I still found myself getting up at the same time every morning, and soon discovered that silence is creepy to me. I spent a lot of time by myself, reading a new book, and tanning out on the back patio. I laughed every day of the weather reports about the "heat wave" we were having. I was barely breaking a sweat. I spent other time working remotely, still checking emails, and making posts on the forum. I was there to ponder the possibility of spending the rest of my life with someone, but still felt terribly alone.

Since we first met, Aaron has called me type A+ personality. He's right. I can't ever just sit still; I don't really know how to. And that drove me nuts in Cincy. I felt guilty that I was there, having fun while others were here picking up my responsibilities. I missed my "kids," even their obnoxious behaviors and chewing up things that don't belong to them. I just didn't feel like me. I thought I'd be happy leaving Savannah, finding someone who loved me for all that I am, and treated me to wonderful times (I did at least finally get to go to my first Jimmy Buffett concert). But it just wasn't enough. As much as my heart had been aching throughout the long distance relationship, I actually found myself crying because I missed my home and the rescue. I was incredibly hurt that Cincy people were not friendly, waves and smiles were never returned, and no such thing as chit chat in stores. Even at the Buffett concert, where people had been tailgating for days (several Parrothead clubs made the trip), I didn't find reception to outsiders. I felt like I had no purpose. But the day before I left, I got my reminder.

We were on our way back down to the levee in Newport when my cell rang. The caller id said "ER Vet." I immediately panicked, not knowing if it was one of my babies or a foster. A familiar voice answered, and said they had a situation and wanted my help. I was quite relieved, until I heard the story. A dog had been brought in the night before by a landlord, apparently having been left by the tenants. She had been on a chain, for how long we may never know, but it had grown into her neck. The vet techs took to the dog immediately and started cleaning her wound, applied a bandage, and gave her pain medication and antibiotics. They told me they just couldn't turn her over to animal control, she was just too sweet. I agreed to take her when I returned from my flight at 9:30 the next night. I hung up the phone and realized I hadn't even bothered to ask her age, her size or even her breed. I think I was just so relieved to be reminded that I had a purpose in life.

And thus begins the story of Hope, the dog that reminds me each day with her kisses that we all have a place in this world, even if we aren't always sure we're there yet.

Real Friendships

2008-07-03T15:58:00.003-04:00

This past month has been a complete whirlwind. I can't believe it is already July. But it is time to pay my dues to the blog, so here goes...

A couple weeks ago, I got a very disturbing text message on my cell phone. One of my closest friends from high school and a post-divorce roommate had just lost his baby to SIDS. I was stunned. This is not a first to have a friend lose a baby, but for this particular person, I was incredibly saddened. He had spent the last two years turning his life around, attending AA regularly, settling down with another of my friends from high school. He was so incredibly excited about being a dad for the first time. I remember seeing the sweetheart down at the marina for an oyster roast we had back in April. I made a few cracks to his wife about my condolences that the kid's genes were 50% his, but at least he was cute. To be truthful, he looked just like his daddy, which isn't a bad thing; after all, we were boyfriend/girlfriend a couple times as well.

I immediately contacted another best friend of ours after getting the message. We took turns going back and forth, waiting for more details. I was astonished at all I was told and all the wife was put through. It really broke my heart. I have no way of knowing her feelings, but knowing the additional stress and strain being put on her, I could not imagine myself tolerating well.

I set about contacting a few others from our circle, working to make sure he would have the support he needed during this time. And it happened. Even after years of us all going our own ways, starting new careers and families, we have never forgotten the bonds that made us all friends in the first place. In fact, one friend flew in from Texas to be at his side for the memorial. We took turns catching up between hugs and tears, trying to set aside what we were about to watch but not forgetting why we were there.

It was one of the saddest days I've had in a long time, watching two people I care about and deeply admire lay their two-month-old baby to rest. But I watched as they held each other and their other daughter, knowing that their "for better or for worse" vows are truly being tested, and admired their strength. I know that the days ahead of them will continue to put that to the test, but there are no doubts in my mind that their love for one another will see them through. I hope one day to have a relationship as strong as theirs, though I pray never to have to endure the same tests.

From Heartbreaking to Hopeful

2008-06-14T22:23:00.002-04:00

A week ago Sunday, Wendy and I drove up to Camden, SC to rescue two Golden Retriever brothers, a young Shepherd puppy, and a female Chihuahua mix. We had gotten an email the week before telling us they were on death row. Knowing that we usually have success with adopting these breeds, we committed to the six-hour trip, also adding on a "hitchhiker" senior Eskie to his new home in Jacksonville on the way back. We departed around 7 am on our journey.

While I love Wendy dearly, I will be the first to tell you she is not a morning person. She is also not someone who will help keep you awake on an early morning drive. She woke up about 20 minutes from our destination when I stopped at a McDonald's in Columbia for a potty break.

I had no idea how rural this shelter was we were going to. I have been to lots of shelters around Georgia, Florida, South Carolina and even the ASPCA in New York. But when we drove up, all I could think was "wow, this really makes Chatham County look good." But what met us on the outside was complete deception.

Normally, the shelter is closed on the weekends, but staff and volunteers come in to take care of the pets and arrange for out-of-area rescues to give reprieves for death row puppies. We were amazed at the friendliness and interaction the folks made with us and the animals. One person took to getting our paperwork ready while Wendy and I went to meet other pets. We were so heartbroken; so many good looking dogs and cats and we only came for three. We watched puppies run together and play in their pool; adult dogs grouped together for play as well. Kittens shared two dog runs where they could climb and be kittens; adult cats napped on top of the runs. With so little given to them, this staff has really done so much.

After thirty minutes, it was apparent we were not headed back to Savannah with just three pups. We contemplated the exact arrangement of crates in the SUV and how we could get everyone back safely and comfortably.

Wendy and I both fell for this beautiful white retriever girl. Wendy said it; I told her we needed to wait and see what else was available, knowing full well we'd be taking her back with us. But Wendy wouldn't let up; she really wanted the retriever. I saw a couple of puppies that caught my eye; they were all so cute, how could you just pick out a couple, but two really struck me. One was a pug/bulldog puppy. It wasn't just her face that struck me, but her fearlessness with the pack. I couldn't resist her. And then there was a carbon-copy of Wendy's beloved Blue, which we later named Bluebelle. And then there was this quiet little puppy in the back of another pen. She caught both our eyes. I picked her up and noticed a little bit of clear discharge from her nose. We figured it was just the start of kennel cough, so decided to keep her separate from the others.

We thought we were done, until a staff member pointed us to two Chihuahuas. They had been seized from a local dog fighting ring. It made me sick to see them, covered in fleas and cowering in the back of the crate. The brindle one was closest to us. He had his head bent down, almost as if he was ashamed for the way he looked. I asked the staff person if she had held him. She said he did fine though he shivered a lot. Behind him was a white pint-sized Chihuahua (the brindle was larger than standard breed size). I asked for a towel to keep my hands from being bit as I reached in to grab the brindle Chi. He did just as the staff member said; I placed him in Wendy's arms and went to get the other one. Just as I entered my hand into the cage, he snapped, an obvious reaction to the life he had been living. I shook my head, knowing we didn't have a place to work with one that had been taken that far away from a loving companion. I told the staff I was sorry, but we would take the brindle one, which we named Jose Cuervo.

So while the staff went to finding all the additional paperwork for the the additional five canines we decided to rescue, I took to getting all the crates rearranged and ready for our long journey home. We left nearly an hour later than I had planned, but Wendy and I both felt great about what we had just done. She even offered to take the retriever (we named Magnolia) home with her. I joked that her husband was going to divorce her, but I knew he'd be just as big a sucker for her as we were.

We drove an hour to Manning, SC, picking up our canine hitchhiker and made good time to get back to the ranch. Wendy took to bathing puppies while I prepped kennels and crates. All puppies settled in after a good meal, and I began uploading photos and descriptions to start adoption promotion.

Throughout the night, I kept an eye on Carrie, the only puppy that seemed a little under the weather. I started her on Clavamox we had left over from other puppies, resolving to get her to the vet the next afternoon. But by the time I had returned from the radio show at 9:30, she had already vomited. I couldn't believe it. This shelter had not had any parvo cases this year, part of the reason we agreed to take so many puppies back with us. But we had her now, so we set about the usual protocol. But by the time we arrived to the vet, she had progressed downhill so quickly, we had to let her go. It was so incredibly hard. Carrie was the sixth puppy we had lost this year to parvo, something we had never experienced more than once in a year.

But the bad news ended there. A week later, Magnolia has really come out of her shell. I'm puppysitting her and her foster siblings for the weekend. She is so obedient and smart, and eager to have her head scratched and be told she's a good girl. Our little Jose has even come a long way, too. On Wednesday, he started interacting with the smaller dogs without bribery, and today, he even let the bigger dogs sniff him without soiling himself. Rita (the other Chihuahua we took) is doing awesome. I even took her on the radio show with me on Monday where everyone said she is not the typical Chi. She still doesn't like to be with the big dogs, but she does fine with Jose. The Golden pups are still taking some extra care; Tigger is more confident and comes to me at feeding time while Pooh still runs to hide behind the Dogloo. Both have joined in the pack play time in the dog yard and enjoy romps in the puppy pool. Charlotte (pug puppy) and Bluebelle (border collie mix puppy) love getting attention at feeding time, particularly biting at my ankles until I take a moment to hold each of them. And little Samantha (the Shepherd pup) really showed me just how smart and determined a pup she is by finding ways out of her kennel and the dog yard, earning her a spot inside until her relocation to another foster home.

While these all feel like great rescues for us, I'm more amazed by the wildlife rescue I got to do on Monday. I don't remember the last time I was involved in one, but this sure wasn't a phone call I was expecting.

My nutritionist and chiropractor called me while I was on the radio. I called him back when we were finished. He wanted to know what to do about a momma opossum and her babies that had been hit by a car. I told him some people to look up, including animal control. He called me back that he had found a woman on Wilmington Island who said she would take them for rehabilitation if he could get them to a specific vet. I gave him some tips on what to do and how, and proceeded to run my morning in-town errands before heading back to the ranch. He called back about ten minutes later and said he was too nervous to do it. So I drove over and met him. You could hear the gasps of the babies that had gotten separated from their mom. I have never seen opossum babies before, but they were so tiny, I thought they were newborns. We picked up the scattered babies first and put them in the box. Then I threw two towels over mom, picked her up gently from both sides and placed her in the box. We did another walk through to check for babies before he headed to the vet with them. I immediately called mom to tell her... her first question: "You aren't taking them home with you, are you?" Yes, there are some critters I know I can't help, but it's nice to know there are others that can.

From Making Waves to Making Mom and Dad Proud

2008-05-29T23:49:00.001-04:00

My dad always did say I never knew when to keep my mouth shut. For the most part, he's right. But what I've come to find out is that too many people keep their mouths shut when they shouldn't. So, I guess that's where I come in.

For the last week, I've been working to help a family through the process of shutting down a breeder. It's taken a lot of phone calls, press releases, blog postings, and just general email writings to get stuff done. But now the Department of Agriculture is investigating, the CKC is reviewing and possibly issuing a license suspension, and the Tell-N-Sell finally called me today to say they would consider removing the breeder's ads and banning him from their paper. So maybe my big mouth can be productive.

So where does this come in with making Mom and Dad proud? Two nights ago, FOX 28 had me on as a guest to talk about the problems with purchasing puppies from classified ads or at the flea market. I had been out to see my parents earlier in the evening to do adoptions for four of their foster kittens. I told them to tune in if they wanted, that I would be on at 10. My parents usually don't see my TV appearances because they are normally from 5 to 9 am, when my parents are sleeping. But as I arrived home from the studio a little after 11, my phone rang, showing "Mom" on the caller id. She called to tell me that they were proud of me, that I composed myself very well, even with an uncooperative puppy in my lap, and that I looked very nice in my suit. Wow. I'm 29 years old and I can count on less than two hands how many times my parents have actually told me they are proud of me. It's something I strive very hard to achieve, and really makes my day (or night) when I hear those words.

Coping with Parvovirus in Rescue

2008-05-28T13:29:00.002-04:00

It has been a very rough year for us with dealing with parvo puppies. Five litters so far have come in having picked up the virus from on the streets or at their animal control shelters. We don't usually see so many litters with parvo cases in just a few short months. But this morning, we lost our fourth pup of the year to the virus. Davidson had been at the ER vet overnight along with his littermate, Phoebe. We sent them and Marley to our regular vet for continued treatment, hoping for the best, knowing the worst may come. No matter how many littermates suvive the virus with each treatment, it still tears me up each time I lose one.

Why does this keep happening? Why do we keep getting sick puppies? Well, let's start off with the number one reason: people are not spaying and neutering their animals. It's not a difficult concept to grasp, and low-cost spay options are available, espcially through our local SNAC clinic. But why aren't people doing this? Profits from puppy sales, long-held beliefs that spaying is cruel, and men who are insecure about their manhood refusing to allow their male pets to be neutered.

Past the obvious reason, what else is there? Moms that are not properly vaccinated have no immunities to pass on to their babies. We saw a case just a week ago of a purebred puppy bought from a CKC registered breeder that died from parvovirus. If mom was properly immunized and the puppies properly vaccinated as the family had been promised, then there should have been no issue. Even after having been notified about the parvo puppy, the breeder sold the remaining eight puppies (an independent third party called over the weekend to check).

So we have the problems with reproduction and negligent care. What's left? The external environment in which the pups are raised. All our puppies come from local animal control shelters. These shelters are several decades old in most cases and completely run down. Only routine maintenance is done, and most cleaning methods are ineffective as the buildings harbour viruses so well. Add to that a climate that never experiences a hard freeze to kill parasites.

Our job as rescuers is to save as many lives as possible. We know the risks with accepting puppies, but our choice is to either accept that risk or stop taking them at all. At this point, we have over $1,000 in vet bills for the three puppies that started aggressive treatments last night. So while we are diligently trying to give them a second chance at life, the costs to do so mean we can't accept other pets that will also need care.

So we push on, praying for the survival of our pups and hoping people will stop purchasing pets that fuel these profit-seeking breeders and instead look.

*Donations are very much in need right now. Every little bit makes a difference. Please consider making a donation towards our puppies today.*

Newspaper and Online Puppy Sale Ads Bring Heartbreak

2008-05-26T14:43:00.004-04:00

Every child should be blessed to know the joys of raising a puppy, the fun of learning to play, the warmth and softness of puppy fur, and the pleasing aroma of puppy breath.

But for those buying puppies from ads in newspapers, classified papers, and online sites such as Craigslist.com, that happiness is either a long-time taking or never experienced.

This past Thursday, Coastal Pet Rescue released information to local media to warn consumers of a breeder selling puppies with Parvovirus. The breeder, Roy Newsome, is also a local businessman. The owner of Newsome Enterprises normally makes his living selling trailers and signs from his store and website, UncleRoys.com. A local family saw Mr. Newsome's ad in the local Tell-N-Sell for CKC registered Rottweiler puppies.

The Lanes went to get their puppy, Bubba, from Mr. Newsome. They were told the puppies, five males and four females, had seen the vet twice and had two dewormings. After paying $400 and receiving the CKC registration papers, the Lanes left to enjoy their new life with Bubba.

But Bubba didn't feel well. He wouldn't play, and became very lethargic. The Lanes thought he was depressed, having been separated from his mom and littermates. But on the morning of May 21st, Bubba began to vomit, and the Lanes immediately rushed him to the vet, where he was diagnosed with hookworms and parvovirus, which is often fatal to puppies.

The Lanes never received any actual paperwork to prove veterinary care, nor were they ever shown a Georgia Department of Agriculture license which regulates pet breeders.

The Lanes notified Mr. Newsome and went back to get a refund. When the family returned to the point of sale, Mr. Newsome refused to come meet with the family members, instead sending his daughter out the front door with the refund.

The Lanes were hopeful that Bubba would pull through, but sadly, his body gave in and he passed on Sunday morning, May 25th.

The Lanes have notified the Georgia Department of Agriculture, the CKC, and the Savannah Business Bureau in the hopes of getting Mr. Newsome shut down. They are still in mourning for little Bubba and hope no other families will fall prey to puppy sale ads.

Stories like these are not unheard of in our work. Mostly, we hear about them from people purchasing puppies at the local flea market. As long as people are dead-set on having a "purebred" puppy, these breeders will keep selling. There are plenty of puppies available through local animal shelters and rescues. An estimated 40% of animals in rescues and shelters are purebred. But it isn't a specific breed that makes a good dog; it's the unconditional love and excitement a puppy (or even adult and senior dog) brings to its new family. All it takes is for a person to stop being superficial and give a pup a second chance.

Savannah Chief of Police Believes Animal Welfare "is Not a Priority"

2008-05-22T14:17:00.003-04:00

I just left a Buy Local Savannah lunch where Chief Berkow was the speaker. I asked him in front of everyone what changes were in store to increase animal control's ability to respond to animal cruelty, neglect and dog fighting cases. His exact words in front of the entire audience were, "it's not a priority to this community." So basically, we're fighting a losing battle. He also doesn't believe they should have a shelter or be dealing with adoptions. He specifically said he attempted to work with the Humane Society here but they would not cooperate. I'm sick of this. No matter how much media, how many times we go before city council or county commission, the people who have the power to make change don't care to.

Needless to say, my blood has been boiling. A group of concerned citizens met with Chief Berkow late last year about their concerns and promises were made about changes to come. I haven't noticed any changes. Three years ago, the county allocated funds to build a new animal control shelter that would accommodate for the increasing intakes as well as reduce the spread of disease. I was working at animal control last spring when the architects came by and had been to see shelters in other areas of Georgia. But I still don't see even a hint of construction.

Chief Berkow was very proud to talk about the three new trucks they bought for the officers. Wouldn't that money have been better spent to increase training for the current officers and hire more to handle the number of calls? He claims he doesn't know anything about any dog fighting calls that haven't been responded to. Funny, because I helped someone late last year compile lots of documentation of the number of times the police department and animal control were called about pit puppies and suspected fighting. No one ever came, so we went to the GBI and Georgia Sheriff's Association, and the other person documenting made calls to the ABC national news outlet. The next day, two members of city council, animal control officers, and a few police officers finally showed up. The dogs were impounded. The owner had just gotten out of jail for murder. The house was actually abandoned and had been condemned. Weapons were found inside the house along with other items. So what happened? The guy was issued community service through animal control, and was told he could have his dogs back. On the last day of the community service, he was arrested for manslaughter. The puppies were not allowed to be released until the owner signed them over, so they sat for several months growing up in the small cages in the puppy side of animal control. By the time they were released, the rescues that offered to take them initially no longer had the room available for them. So yes, I could see how dogfighting is not a concern of our community. We're more than happy to have murderers live among us without them being bothered by police.

I'm absolutely frustrated with animal control in Savannah right now. I will be more than happy to give kudos to Lt. Bouleware for hiring an excellent shelter director who has made so many positive changes with the very little he was given, and I'll extend the kudos to the ladies at the shelter who give their all to try and keep the animals comfortable and as healthy as best they can. But when will there be more officers on the street? How many times does a person have to call about illegal tethering or neglectful conditions before anything is ever done? When will someone be able to call on the weekends and not be told there is nothing that can be done until Monday? What about an actual animal cruelty investigator as other counties in Georgia have? Or even an actual prosecution team that can get jail time for violators instead of just community service hours at the animal control shelter?

Just what is it going to take to get our city's leadership to give a damn about animal welfare in our community???

Recovering from a Working Vacation

2008-05-21T16:03:00.000-04:00

Last week, Coastal Pet Rescue had the grand opportunity to send six leadership team members to the HSUS Animal Care Expo in Orlando. (A big THANK YOU to Matt Cohen of The New South Cafe for sponsoring our registration costs.)

First let me say that while this was a big educational opportunity, it was also a small part vacation for me. Two days were planned for visiting the Disney parks before and after the workshops. It gave me a chance to get to know members of my leadership team better.

Before I go into a recount of our week, let me just say that please, for your own sanity, don't ever stay at the Coronado Springs Resort. HSUS has already booked it again in three years, and we're already looking for alternative places to stay. Our room and service was so bad, we got a big gift basket delivered to our room on the third day. I could write a novel of all the things that went wrong, but no need to bother. Just know that what you see and read on the website are not what we experienced during our stay. I also discovered that all the things I loved about Magic Kingdom as a kid and even in my early 20s were no longer the same... no characters walking about the park at random, you can only see Mickey at one spot if you wait in an hour plus line, and the more mature rides were all now G-rated. Even Epcot seemed less fantastic to me this go round... maybe it's because I'm older or just don't like so much change from happy childhood memories. I did, however LOVE Animal Kingdom. I could have stayed there longer and done more, but I wanted the chance to explore other parks.

So back to the conference... we spent the week attending various workshops on animal care, volunteer issues, fundraising, and long-term planning. I taught one workshop on website considerations for adopters, donors and volunteers. I was thrilled at the turnout; more than 200 people and folks were even sitting on the floor due to lack of seats. My Q&A session ran over and I'm still getting emails from people that attended. What a boost it is to see others benefit from my experience.

What I love most about the HSUS conferences is the opportunity to meet with other groups and exchange ideas. I'm hopeful that the rest of our team took away as much as I did so we become a stronger and more dedicated animal welfare organization.

But taking off for a week means coming back to quite a bit of work. Despite our having left auto responders on our email and an outgoing message on our voicemail that we were out of town until the 18th and messages would be returned on the 19th, people still yelled in their messages that we were not responsive to them. Just seems we can't make folks happy enough these days. It's not bad enough they want to dump their problem pets on us, now we have to take their problem attitudes as well. But so it goes in the world of animal rescue.

How NOT to Win Friends and Influence People

2008-05-08T22:51:00.002-04:00

I thought I could let this go, but that just wouldn't be me.

Ever since I was a kid, my mom has made me listen to her motivational business/self development tapes. I dreaded them. In fact, I finally learned how to tune them out. Now, all these years later, I spent over 40 minutes listening to a self-proclaimed "success story" who obviously never had a mom like mine.

From the moment this speaker took to the stage, I was turned off. He yelled... a lot. He spoke so fast, we could hardly understand his words. We were told he had a 30 minute limit... pretty much our entire table was turned off by him, so one member actually set a timer on his cell phone. Others at the table took to playing tic tac toe on their programs; others made jokes about his presentation. When the guy would make a joke, we noticed that no one on our side of the room was laughing; it seemed the only people who were doing it were the ones in front that probably did it out of respect. Honestly, had I not cared so much for the award nominees, I would have left. The guy kept on with his screaming; it reminded me so much of Sister Arlene back at St. Vincent's screaming at us in trig class. It seemed this guy was never going to stop, and when he began making his way towards our table, one of the guys grabbed a knife as if trying to protect himself. Several members at our table complained of elevated blood pressure, I myself felt like I had a constant ringing in my ears. But eventually, it stopped, way past the end of our cell phone countdown.

The night ended, and as everyone was filing out, I noticed not a single person stopped at this guy's booth to talk to him. I guess most everyone had had enough. I heard lots of comments in the parking lot... "that was nothing new," "of course you have to put people first, who does he think we are?", "I can't believe the Chamber paid for THAT," and my favorite, "why would anyone bring a 7 am speaker to a 7 pm function?"

Overall, it seems this speaker should stick to writing books. He claims a lot of success for motivating his team to the top sales position in the country for a network affiliate. I honestly have no idea how that is, other than they just don't want him yelling at them.

Off The Leash

2008-05-01T23:15:00.003-04:00

April was an incredibly busy month for me. Then again, most always are. But primarily, there were so many emotional ups and downs, which finally culminated in my first vacation in nearly seven years.

On April 15, I officially adopted Hemingway. I knew I was hooked the first day he arrived at the ranch. In fact, Tim made sure that was the last puppy handed to me out of the crate. It was like looking at a darker baby of DaVinci. We named all the other puppies after Harry Potter characters, and I reserved the right to name my new little husky bear. I swore I wasn't going to adopt him, but everyone around me knew better. I have been in love with DaVinci since I first saw his photo, and Hemingway was no different. As he's gotten older, his coat has changed color a bit, and people who don't know better think he belongs to Vinnie. However, if you watch, Hemingway really thinks he belongs to Hannah, following her everywhere and even snuggling with her in the crate. He's still a wild puppy, never wanting to come inside because playtime ends. But with those eyes and his spirit, he'll be an excellent addition to our pack.

So that was the fun puppy stuff this month. Since the last of Hemingway's litter was adopted by mid-month, I ventured to take a few more puppies from animal control. I went in to get two and left with eight - that seems to keep happening to me. Within just a few days, we realized we were contending with Parvo again. Knowing we couldn't make the entire litter through hospital stays, we got the first puppy to the ER and had her put on IVs through the night. Then I had the tending vet give us a prescription for the other seven to start on Tamiflu. I had read where other rescues were having great success at saving parvo puppies by using it. I was willing to try anything to save these puppies. It was 8 pm on Sunday and I worried about losing puppies while I slept through the night. By 9:30 (and after an excruciating wait at Walgreen's) I was home and medicating the other puppies. The next morning, the puppy at the ER was moved to our regular vet, and I arrived for two other appointments that morning. Sadly, halfway through our second appointment, we lost the puppy. I hadn't had her very long but it still hurt so much. A few days later, two more puppies died over night. I still haven't gotten over them. The other puppies are still pulling through, though we found out last week they also have coccidia and still had hookworms after their first deworming. Two puppies also have kennel cough, so we're really just having loads of fun at the ranch.

I don't think anyone can ever really fully understand the emotional roller coaster I live from one day to the next with these dogs. They never come to us in perfect health, and lots come with baggage. I honestly don't even know what attracts me to those special needs pups, but something always does. Which is how I ended up with Millie, Vienna, Maddie, Cisco, Summer and Candy as well within the last two weeksm not to mention eight kittens from animal control. (For those of you keeping count, that is 14 canines at once - the kittens, aka "snacks" according to the pups, are at two other foster homes.) Needless to say, my patience had been wearing thin, as had my appetite and sleep routine. So last weekend, I took my first vacation in a long, LONG, time.

It's hard to remember a time I didn't have a cell phone or email, but for four days, I shed my electronic leashes and just enjoyed life. I went to an aquarium and took a behind-the-scenes tour, enjoyed a beautiful dinner on the levee, and even spent an entire day at a roller coaster park. Granted, the weather was well below temperatures I like to endure, but being able to sleep in, go to bed early, or just rest on the couch for a few hours and read a book was amazing. But back to the grindstone I am again, prepping for a big morning tomorrow, a volunteer social on Saturday night, and a week-long animal welfare conference in just two weeks. I'm quite sure my next vacation won't come soon enough.

We Don't Have a Crime Problem in Savannah

2008-04-23T11:07:00.002-04:00

I can't say how many times I have heard that. Growing up on Tybee, we never locked our doors until the night some drunk crawled in and fell asleep on our living room couch. But to me, I never felt unsafe or worried about my personal safety. Until last night.

I stopped watching the news for years because I was tired of nothing but shootings being shown. I didn't want to feel like I had to become a recluse; I enjoy life and I enjoy living life not confined to my house. But around 9:50 pm last night, my world of security faded.

I've been to enough redneck parties to know the sound of gunshots, and sitting at my computer last night, paying bills and making pet sitting arrangements, I completely froze with what I heard: rapid fire and tires squealing. I hit the arm mode on my alarm remote and sat back. It wasn't long before the cops showed up, so apparently, I wasn't the only neighbor who heard the noise. I turned off the lights and peered out my window, trying to figure out what happened and where. I walked to the back to peer out to the kennels; all the puppies were quiet, perhaps frozen in fear as I had been. Right around 11 a WTOC van showed up. I walked out to ask what he knew. What I found out was that this wasn't the first time cops had been to this house.

I never thought I'd live somewhere that I didn't want to know my neighbors, but since moving to the ranch last year, that's how I've become. I've heard the yelling, screaming, cursing so many times that I no longer think anything of it. I pretty much mind my own business and hope they mind theres. I have enough to contend with just keeping my puppies alive and safe.

So a few weeks ago, my parents decided to have an alarm system installed on my house. I thought it was a ridiculous thing; I had dogs, and I really didn't think anything could happen to me. Not that I am invincible, but I don't believe I provide a threat to anyone and I certainly have nothing valuable in the house (unless you count Beneful for Puppies which is expensive when buying 100 pounds at a time). But I called my mom and told her thank you for knowing what was best for me even when I thought I knew it all. There was comfort in being able to activate my alarm system from the exact spot I was sitting. I just hate that I now have to have an alarm system to feel safe in my home.

Angels When You Least Expect Them

2008-04-13T10:10:00.003-04:00

A year ago, I got a funny idea to build an actual shelter for Coastal Pet Rescue. Well, turns out, those are pretty expensive to build, so I settled for buying an acre of land and putting up temporary kennels. The kennels allow us to save litters at a time from euthanasia at animal control when we don't have foster homes available. So far, they have helped us save 30 pets since December 31.

While this is a great idea, I underestimated the amount of time and care it would require of me, since I live alone and don't always have help available. I learned a routine that takes about an hour and a half in the morning, an hour in the mid to late afternoon, and another hour and a half before I go to bed. Some days it goes slower, others faster, but always reminds me that I am where I am supposed to be.

Lately, I've been getting a little worn down. I had a minor MCL tear which put me on crutches, however, I couldn't get around the property as well as I needed to or get things done in a timely fashion, not to mention Hannah thought they were a big chew toy and tried to take them from me... while I was using them! So after a week and a half, I had to put them down and just bear through the pain. I feel it every night but I'm sure there are worse things in life.

It was getting to be time to do some major repairs and cleanup work on the kennels. So, I decided I would tackle one of the four kennels each weekend in April so I would be finished by May. I knew it was going to be a lot of work, and I made a punch list for myself so as not to be overwhelmed or surprised. I had made a request for help on the volunteer message board, but the interest was not there. I shrugged it off and started to go forward, setting up my schedule of what tasks would be completed and when. I was already pricing delivery options from Lowe's when I got a message from our secretary from someone in Maryland that wanted to volunteer. I called the young lady and was astonished - she had ten volunteers arriving to Savannah the second weekend in April and they wanted to know if I had anything they could do to help. You can never begin to imagine my joy at their offer.

I started my day yesterday just a little before seven, rising to let the house dogs out to go potty, then throwing on shoes to go let out four dogs I'm pup sitting for another foster home. I returned back and began the routine of feeding everyone and picking up poo, always a fun way to kick off the weekend. By 8:30, I was wide awake, and with my Jimmy Buffett music blaring from the speakers I had just put up on Friday, I decided to get a head start on the kennels, filling holes and patching chainlink with chicken wire sections and aluminum ties.

The group arrived right on time, in a big white van, but it may as well have been on white horses to me. They were eager, wanting to know where to start and if it was ok to play with the dogs, too. I had set up task sheets on each kennel listing all the items that needed to be done: scooping up all the old mulch, filling holes, putting down new mulch bleach cleaning and scrubbing each dog house then placing it on a platform, and scrubbing all the dishes. Two of the volunteers took on yard duty, picking up poo and dead toys and removing brush from the fence line. I took on dog house duty in one kennel, scrubbing away and answering questions from the various volunteers about CPR and how we started, what we do, the dogs, etc. Right about noon, all the kennels were finished. It was amazing; it all looked so beautiful, I wanted to cry.

Another CPR volunteer, Betty, drove from Wilimington Island to bring lunch for the group. They were so incredibly thankful. Betty always takes such good care of me, coming out to the ranch every other week to help out, so I was not surprised at her generosity for these volunteers. As they sat eating, they asked about what else they could do while they were here. I was stunned. I thought for sure they would be "thanks for the grub, we're out," but it was just the opposite. One of the guys asked if I had a lawnmower so he could cut the yard for me. It hasn't been cut since I started growing grass, and it really needed it, but I felt bad that these young folks were doing so much for me. But by the time we walked back with the lawnmower, the other volunteers had already cleaned up all the stuff from lunch, put it back in the house, and were out in the yard playing with all the puppies. They looked so happy, and it felt wonderful for me. But they still wanted to do more. So, we went to the back of the property and loaded a trailer full of junk that I had been pulling out of the woods and dirt for the last eight months. It went so quickly having so many people to help, I actually teared up. But still, they wanted to do more...

Three of the young ladies came up to me in the house and asked if they could please bathe the puppies. I asked them if they were sure about that as they would probably get a good bit wet and dirty. I told them if they really wanted to, then sure. They were so thrilled about it, just big grins across their face. Then they said, "don't tell the others; we want to do this ourselves," but one of the guys had walked by and heard and he wanted to bathe the puppies, too. I couldn't believe all these young adults were fighting over who was going to bathe the puppies. Knowing everything was under control, I got a glass of water and retreated to my lounge chair that I hadn't had time to sit in since I built my "Isla de Lisa" retreat. When I went in to get a refill a short while later, I found six volunteers crowded into my bathroom bathing, drying, rotating puppies. I just shook my head and laughed, knowing that is how excited I get every time I go to animal control to bring someone home.

The AmeriCorps angels left around 4:30, and told me they would call me tomorrow (today) to see if I need any help with the six new puppies I'm bringing home from animal control. I told them to enjoy their day on the boat (I made arrangements for my parents to take them out on a dolphin tour as a thank you) and if they got really bored, that they were welcome to come back and play with puppies.

It just goes to show that we are never faced in life with challenges we can't overcome... and when we really need help, it, too, will find us.

Oh, and let me know forget to mention my other blessed angel, Gary from Daniel Kitchen and Bath who came and did the front lawn and driveway.

Oprah Shows Truth About Puppymills

2008-04-05T09:38:00.004-04:00

For the last week, my inbox has been flooded with emails from rescuers around the country, advising me to watch the Oprah show on April 4 as she exposes puppymills. I've been in rescue a number of years now and just completed my humane leadership bachelor degree. There's not much more I can learn about puppymills, but I was interested to see a national talk show finally take on the dirty and often heartbreaking topic. And I was pleased.

The video footage shown was not much different than that I had to watch for classes, or those that I watched from other rescues that I helped coordinate puppymill busts transports. While it is not something I have had to be involved in locally, I am aware that these places exist very nearby to me and have worked with a couple of other rescuers to go through the proper authorities to see them shut down. Sadly, it still hasn't happened yet. I continue to see these puppies sold at our local flea market, noticeably younger than the breeder says and shouldn't be away from their mom yet, and often lacking any sort of social skills. I've been by on cold days when I was wrapped in my warmest jacket (ok, windbreaker as we are in the South), and saw these babies completely exposed to the elements while their breeders sat wrapped in warm jackets or even blankets. I've been on incredibly hot days where I was sure I would pass out from the heat and excessive thirst and not even seen water available to these pets. There is little value given to their wellbeing; they are a commodity, and these breeders prey on the compassion of those that walk by.

Even after the puppymill footage was shown on Oprah, I was more amazed that they took it further to show the reality of animal shelters and the euthanasia process. I had to admit, what they shown was almost sugar-coated. All the animals walked willingly with their handler and sat well on the euthanasia table. I know that's not how it always is because I've been involved in the euthanasia process before.

Last year, I worked for a couple months at our local animal control, back when the gas chamber was still the primary method for euthanasia. I had always only been in the shelter as an animal rescuer; I had the good job because I was there to save the pets. So I felt it was important for me to fully understand my mission and the importance of our work and to do so, I needed to participate in the euthanasia process. The guys asked me if I was sure I could handle it, knowing that animal rescuers are incredibly compassionate people who do shed tears often. I've prided myself at only crying in private due to the nature of a lot of the cases we take, so I told them I'd be fine.

I can still remember every little detail of that first day. We did the dogs first. What you don't see on the Oprah footage are the dogs who know something is going on and use all their strength to stay put or try to fight you at the cage to stay away from them. Even after being given a tranquilizer, some still fought to have control, wobbling, trying to stand up and get away. They don't understand that this is your job, to take up for other people's irresponsibility. And it's a hard job. All I wanted to do was hold each pet before we did anything, but there's no time for that. We had a time frame by which we were to be done before members of the public came through the shelter so they would not see the truth that takes place. The worst for me was the kittens. There were so many of them, and the mound was so big by the time I was finished placing them all in the chamber cage. Once the door was closed, I left the room. It was then my job to take all the cage cards and fill out the euthanasia log. I wrote down 47 animal ids that morning. They didn't have names, just numbers, and most were never given much of a description past DSH (domestic short hair for cats) or Mix for dogs, where the majority had the word "Pit" in front.

And that was part of my job four days a week for two months. Some days there were less, others more. But it never got easier. I still cried when I got home, thinking about the ones that should have had a chance but never will.

So thank you, Oprah, for showing the rest of the world what too many people try to ignore.

Easter Blessings: a Big Donation and a New Friend

2008-03-25T10:47:00.001-04:00

Well, it's no secret that we've been struggling financially. We've had excessive veterinary bills for our pets with little in donations coming in. We actually had to stop all intakes for about a month to figure out what to do next. Then on March 12, one of our volunteers got a phone call that she won $5,000 from S.C. Johnson & Son, Inc. for Coastal Pet Rescue. I was stunned; she was shaking as she was talking on the phone to me, and I was crying that our prayers had been answered. We were initially told it would be 60 days before we would see the check, but instead, the check arrived on Good Friday, and was it ever!

Well, that was until Hannah and Portia knocked me over... and sent me on a trip to urgent care where I found out I had a minor MCL tear (my buddy Kevin says MCL = Must Care a Lot about dogs). So here I am, Easter weekend, beautiful outside, and I'm on crutches. Ugh. But good news is that all the grass I planted two weeks ago is coming in, so I am slowly recovering all the landscaping from the dogs.

We made a new friend at WJCL last week as well. Anchor Jessica Kiss came out to Rancho Perro (Mutt Ranch) to visit with us on Saturday and see all our puppies. She's the first media person to take the time to find out what goes on behind the scenes at CPR. She wasn't scared when the dogs jumped on her, and even took time to interact with the pups in each kennel. She's a very genuine person, something you may not always believe to be possible with media personalities these days. So big hearted is she that on Monday, she called and asked me to be on the FOX News at 10 show and even offered me a ride there and back so I wouldn't stress my knee further. Talk about Southern hospitality, and even the gentlemen in the studio were so accommodating, pulling a chair down from the morning set to make it easier for me to get up, and offering me their arms to get up and down from the anchor desk. In a world that I'm so used to people showing me so little respect, it really touched my heart the little gestures to help make me comfortable.

Oprah's Big Give Message Board: Beware of Censorship

2008-03-19T15:32:00.003-04:00

This afternoon, I logged on to the Oprah's Big Give message board to see what other viewers were saying. I've been reading lots of negative reviews through various blogs on the Internet, and thought I'd check it out. While the majority were posts by outraged viewers believing that the show was sending the wrong message about giving, I saw a couple postings asking for advice on getting help, primarily fundraising. So I made a post about the challenge we had issued to local businesses for help and the response we had gotten so far. Within 30 minutes, it had been deleted. Wow. My post was probably one of only 3 throughout that message board that was not negative towards the show but actually showing how the show was inspiring us and others to take action. Color me surprised. Never thought there would be censorship over positivity and trying to encourage others. Maybe it's true that controversy sells. Well, good luck to them; I know I won't be back.

What You Don't See on TV

2008-03-18T07:31:00.002-04:00

This morning, Trinity and I ventured to join the WJCL crew for their morning show. IT was Trin's first time out like this, and needless to say, it has been an adventure.

Our morning show appearances mean I start my day just before 4 am to be sure everyone is fed and ready for the day as I won't return home until the afternoon. I deliberately withheld food from Trin so she would not get carsick as her two sisters have done for every vet visit. I also discovered that the little sweetheart has no interest whatsoever for a leash, so I had to scrounge to find a harness her size, which makes it much easier to carry her when she refuses to walk.

The ride to the station was pretty uneventful. She sat in the back very quiet, pretty much unsure of what in the world was going on. I stopped at the convenience store for a Starbucks pick me up, and we were at the station by about 5:30. Normally, we wait in the lobby or newsroom, but we were ushered into the studio right at our arrival. Trin held on to the floor for dear life as I walked to the guest set. I was starting to worry that it wasn't going to be a good show for us.

Trinity is very much a lover and doled out kisses to anyone who would accept them this morning. Our time came for the first live shot, and as I expected, Trinity was very curious with everything going on and would not sit still. It always makes for fun live TV. We ended and I sat down on the floor with Trin. About 20 minutes later, during a live moment, she began hacking... I knew what was coming but couldn't move fast enough. Luckily, I had not fed her this morning so there was just liquid on the newsroom floor. I didn't want to cause a scene as Jessica was giving the headlines, but then Trin started again. I scooped her up and tried not to trip over all the wires as we rushed to the bathroom. I made it just in time... but this time, it was from Trin's other end... and man, did it smell! In the middle of trying to clean up, a knock on the door said "You'e on now," so I rushed to throw down paper towels until I could get back. I scooped her up and got back to the set, where Trinity decided she was finally comfortable enough to chill out for her TV shot. Two minutes later we were done, and I was back to the bathroom to finish cleaning. Trinity just watched, having obviously forgotten that this was a mess she had created. We returned to the set where she napped until our next shot.

So now we have an hour for us to rest before our next interview. I can only hope that the real fun for the day is over. But as I keep learning, there is just no telling what a puppy will do with live TV.

7am Husky Chorus

2008-03-17T20:15:00.002-04:00

It's one of those days... very late night, very early morning. I had spent all weekend doing landscape work to repair or rectify the previous landscaping by the dogs. Needless to say it was a lot of long hours and sore muscles salvaged only by three volunteers who gave up a few hours on Sunday to bathe 12 puppies.

This morning, I was to have the Harry Potter puppies at their spay appointments by 7:30 am. The alarm went off at 6, I hit snooze, then again, and then again. Next thing I know, it is 7:08 am. Not a good thing for me as I had to identify each puppy, load them in a carrier, then play Tetris to fit all 7 in the rescue mobile for a 30 minute ride.

By 7:28 we were all in the car and on our way with a beautiful sunrise to guide us. By nature, Huskies are talkers, but all I could do was smile and laugh as the chorus began. I turned the radio up to hear "You Raise Me Up" and on cue, the pups howled along. I had Minerva in the crate next to me, and I smiled as she stood perfectly, tilting her head all the way back to make sure the good Lord could hear her passion. All I could do was smile, remembering that just a few short weeks ago she was hooked up to an IV fighting an infection that threatened to end her life.

The chorus continued for the duration of the ride, almost always on key with whatever song played on the radio. For me, it was an affirmation for why I spend my life the way I do. What better thanks could I get than a 7 am puppy serenade.

Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow

2008-03-12T16:56:00.002-04:00

This morning, I hugged my best friend goodbye as he set out on a 12-hour drive to start a new life in Cincinnati. For the last year and a half, he has been my shelter in the storm, holding me after bad days, cooking dinner for me when I needed a break, and always making me smile when I least felt I could. The greatest thing about him was I never had to ask for anything; he just knew and did it. He wasn't bothered by the dogs, in fact, he enjoyed coming over for "puppy love" after he learned "the process."

As I watched him drive off this morning, my heart completely sank. I've had just over a month to adjust to him leaving as he left February 1st but was back every two weeks. I had become accustomed to keeping a few dollar bills in the ashtray of the puppy mobile for picking him up at the airport. I don't have to do that anymore, and it saddens me. Not only do I now have to cook for myself, but who is going to play me at Rummy nights I don't want to talk or just want to forget about my day? What about the random text messages during the day to make me laugh when I probably shouldn't? I even miss my favorite blanket I snuggled in while we watched UFC (he watched, I napped).

We've made promises to see each other once a month, which is a bigger deal for me since I despise cold weather and that's all it's been since he left. But perhaps this will help me grow as a person, too. I have more time for working on my house and landscaping, though I believe I invented projects in the last month just to keep me busy. What I wouldn't give to have the transporter from Star Trek right now.

Zero Tolerance in Schools: Violence vs Skittles

2008-03-12T14:18:00.000-04:00

It's no secret that Savannah Chatham County Public Schools have a problem with violence. It's not new, nor specific to Savannah/Chatham County public schools, and it's the reason my parents put me through 12 years of Catholic schools. I was happy to see that a zero tolerance policy was going to be started, but whether or not it makes a big difference we'll have to wait and see.

But this afternoon, I was stunned as I read of a school in Connecticut that had suspended an eighth grade honors student because he bought a bag of Skittles from a classmate. Apparently, "the New Haven school system banned candy sales in 2003 as part of a districtwide (sic) school wellness policy." Wow. I for one am an avid chocoholic, so I know I would probably be the first to be suspended for sneaking a bag of M&Ms. I guess it must be nice that the schools have such less to worry about than kids getting a sweet fix every so often.

Coastal Pet Rescue Issues Big Give Challenge to Savannah

2008-03-07T12:01:00.003-05:00

Last night, Coastal Pet Rescue issued a Big Give challenge to Savannah area businesses. As of this morning, eight businesses have offered help or services to Coastal Pet Rescue and its volunteers, with two businesses offering benefits to cash donors. What a great start to a new idea.

I'll be the first to admit I'm afraid of failure. As I worked on the new webpage and press release last night, I wondered if it would really take, and how we could pull off all that we need. (Still saying a prayer for the college tuition to come through...) But I was really uplifted at the four respondents I got last night before I even sent the request for help out around the net.

I'd like to think we've made a difference these last five years, but we just need help to make it another five. Our requests for funds haven't gone well of late, so here's hoping asking for services and time to be donated does a bit more. We don't have Oprah's resources, but maybe we'll get lucky get attention of Jeff Foxworthy or other Georgia celebrities who could really help us to make an impact.

Oprah's Big Give, Community Service & Student Loans

2008-03-06T11:17:00.002-05:00

I was flipping through some sites today and ran across another plug for Oprah's Big Give. What an incredible concept. What really hit me was the team working to help a young man at UCLA with his student loans to fulfill his dream of working with children with physical deformities free of charge. It is amazing to me the number of people who are going to school not to just better themselves, but better their communities.

In September 2005, I enrolled in Duquesne University's Bachelor of Science Humane Leadership program. I applied left and right for scholarships, but the truth is, they are so competitive, and the few I received barely covered one term. I graduated in December 2008 and had to get another loan for the balance remaining, so in six months, I get to start repaying $41,000 in student loans. You can believe I've been saying my prayers about this. I'm one of those people that live paycheck to paycheck, and I used to think I was the only one, but I'm realizing that I'm not. With the gas prices now, I can even barely afford to make it to work and home each week.

So basically what it comes down to is how can you justify doing something good with your life if you are going to be forced to struggle not only with emotional tolls but financial ones? Even presidential candidate Obama wants more youth to turn their lives to servicing their community as opposed to corporate America. The candidate even proposes tuition assistance for those willing to put in 100 community service hours a year. Finally, someone who gets what I'm trying to do with my life.

I grew up as the child of corporate America parents: my dad owned his own architect firm in Atlanta, my mom was in management with BellSouth. My siblings all went corporate, my brother even following Mom's footsteps with BellSouth Mobility (Cingular, AT&T, whoever they are this month). But I never saw my parents happy with their work; my dad was always gone away from home, and Mom always brought her work home with her and had little time to do much else. Weekends on Tybee or out on the boat were ours, and I treasured them. But I learned early on that wasn't what I wanted for my life. So here I am, the "black sheep" of the family, struggling little sister who would rather bag dog poop at 6 am seven days a week than deal with corporate BS 40 hours a week. Now, if I could just get Oprah's people to spread the love a little this direction...

PS - edited to note that a report says the 5th episode of Oprah's Big Give was filmed in Atlanta, with contestants crisscrossing Georgia. Darn, always a day late.

Compassion Fatigue

2008-03-03T23:01:00.002-05:00

One of the first things you learn in rescue is that the work can be emotionally taxing. This weekend was no different. On Saturday afternoon, I headed out to the kennels to clean, feed and medicate everyone. I noticed one of the seven Husky pups did not run to greet me as they all normally do. A quick check of capillary refill time told me he needed fluids. I quickly finished feeding everyone and ran inside to change clothes and get on the road. I was supposed to be at a sock hop to benefit the feral cat program in just two hours, but figured there was no way that would happen. We arrived, got checked in, and was told he needed to stay for at least a few hours. I drove back home and made arrangements to have my date meet me at the house as I rushed to get ready. We were only an hour late, and of course, people were understanding of my tardiness. During the middle of the dance, the ER vet called to let me know it was a viral infection and he needed to stay overnight. We left the dance and rushed home to check the other puppies, where I found one pup that seemed a bit less active than earlier. I separated her and kept an eye on her, but felt better since she was walking around and drinking water on her own. But the next morning, I found us on the road to the ER vet again. I got back to the house and went back into my routine, graced to have a volunteer join me for the afternoon bathing duties. Within a couple hours, I had a call from another foster home that one of her puppies was not doing well, so I authorized for him to go in and get put on fluids. An hour later, I was sending another puppy from my litter down there as well.

A beautiful Sunday afternoon had been filled with the stench of bleach from disinfecting crates and kennels and a heavy weight as the concern grew for our puppies. But my stress increased as I worried on how we would pay the ER bill, guessing it would be around $1,000 when we only had about $1200 in available funds. Sure enough, our bill was right at around $900 this morning, but we were lucky... the vet did not charge us the hospitalization or office visit fees, which really would have put us in trouble.

So my early morning (which started today at 4 am) was not one anyone would want... being up early to go to the ER vet, pick up our sick puppies and transfer them to our regular vet for more fluids and care, and just wonder all day long how they were doing and how we are going to pay the mounting vet bills. By 2 pm, I was wiped out and crashed for about an hour, but I'm not sure I rested. The vet called me at 6 with an update, which is about 50/50 for the pups... one is in really bad shape, one is doing great, and two are the same as they were this morning. All I can do right now is pray that things work out and some angels come to our aid, but nights like this, it's not always easy to have faith.

Tybee Island City Council Stealing Skate Park from its Children

2008-02-27T09:24:00.004-05:00

Back in November, I did a long rant on the nastiness with our city council elections. I was so turned off by all the spam emails I got that I didn't even go vote. The hottest topic regarded the sitting council's approval of a skate park on Tybee Island. It had been a long year of lobbying by both proponents and opponents, but you really had to admire the youth who even took to fund-raising to get their own skate park. But what amazed me even more were all the youth who piled in to City Hall back in July to have their voices heard. The meeting took nearly 4 hours, and the council was split on the vote, so Mayor Buelterman broke the tie and voted in favor of the skate park. Kudos to him.

I grew up on Tybee. Back then, my friends had john boats to go out in the rivers, over to Little Tybee, back into Jack's Cut and our swing. We had the water slides, putt putt, and amusement park. We even had an arcade, though I was not allowed to go due to certain activities there. All of that is gone now, but no worries, because there are plenty of condos in its place. The activities that remain for kids are tourist-geared. How many times can you climb the lighthouse before it isn't fun anymore, and how many times can you visit the same critters at the Science Museum? It is no secret that Tybee's City Councils have not understood the culture of our youth. Why else would we have a several hundred thousand dollar gym that they aren't using?

The skate park is the last chance for our youth on Tybee to have something for them. But our new city council is going to vote on the 28th to re-allocate the funds already set aside in the budget for the skate park to other items. That's really classy, Council. Tell the kids you care about them expressing themselves safely without disrupting all the neighbors on the island then take it away. Why are you all so against this? Look at what skateboarding does for these youth: it gives them exercise, promotes their creativity, and gives them confidence to push limits and try new things. But you're right, why would we want to encourage any type of activity that may actually build character and possibly turn these kids into stronger future leaders?

Customer Service is Dead

2008-02-26T17:47:00.004-05:00

Maybe it is just me, but all these customer service centers that are supposed to be so helpful to a person have been anything but. So be prepared, this post is most definitely a rant.

I'll start with Sprint. There are pages and pages of how bad their customer service is on the Internet. We canceled our plan with them in September to go back to Verizon (how nice it is that we can now all talk in our homes again). With four lines for the rescue, we can only want the best so we can actually provide decent customer service to our adopters. But Sprint just doesn't like to let go. We continued to receive bills for phones we no longer used through January. Each month was the same routine: call, speak to a rep who said if we paid her money she'd credit our account. Then I'd talk to two or three supervisors and each time be promised this was resolved. Each month I lost about two hours on the phone as the reps were kind enough to hang up on me when they were tired of me. Finally, I had enough, so I made friends with Google. I found the number of a Sr. VP for Customer Service. I got a secretary, explained to her that I was writing an article on how it was taking our non-profit six months to cancel service with Sprint. She immediately transferred me to someone who was more than happy to help me. He acknowledged that they have lots of problems with customer service but did not offer any hints of corrective actions being taken. I thanked him and hung up with Sprint for the final time.

Then tonight, I was cleaning the kitchen and found my CharBroil grill manual and registration. I forgot I had marked that we were missing parts, but I was in such a rush to use it for our New Year's Eve party, that I just pushed it aside. So, I thought I'd call and try and get the three missing parts sent. I had an easier time filling out my college applications. After thirty minutes on the phone, I'm told I can't get the parts until I send them my reciept. What a waste of my time. Why not tell me that in the beginning. So, I thought I could circumvent that and just do the registration and request online. Again, wasted another 30 minutes only to keep getting error messages. I called the helpline back. After another 20 minutes of trying to explain the problem I was having, I got an, "Our website is undergoing maintenance. You'll have to try again tomorrow." Really? You don't say. Then why the heck not put a message on the website so we don't waste our time?

Oh, and back to my pitiful Vanilla Day Spa experience... still never got a phone call to follow up or make a resolution to fix my bad experience with them. (Anyone want to buy a $130 gift card? Will consider all offers...) Instead, Angela with You Need Fitness Massage hooked me up with an awesome experience. I couldn't believe how nice it was. I was the only client in the studio, had full attention, and drifted off to sleep twice. The music was so soothing, and the little water feature as well. My only complaint was that I got a little chilly, but I prefer to be as warm as possible all the time. I just can't wait to go back.

Ok, so that's enough of a rant today. I'm sure I'm not the only person to have a bad experience with customer service, but it just makes me feel better to vent a little. Maybe I'll try again tomorrow, or else just get some duct tape and make everything work where the parts should have been.

Tennessee Mayor to Atlanta Lawmakers: Conservation, Not Occupation

2008-02-26T16:02:00.003-05:00

On February 20, Georgia lawmakers voted to try and stake a claim to the Tennessee River based upon a "problem caused by an inaccurate land survey from 1818 that improperly marked the Tennessee-Georgia border south of where it should be." Our Tennessee neighbors, understanding the plight of our dear friends in Atlanta, issued a proclamation today and collected a truck of donated bottled water to be delivered to the capital city Wednesday morning. You have to admire their wit.

PROCLAMATION

WHEREAS, it has come to pass that the heavens are shut up and a drought of Biblical proportions has been visited upon the Southern United States, and

WHEREAS, the parched and dry conditions have weighed heavily upon the State of Georgia and sorely afflicted those who inhabit the Great City of Atlanta, and

WHEREAS, the leaders of Georgia have assembled like the Children of Israel in the desert, grumbled among themselves and have begun to cast longing eyes toward the north, coveting their neighbor’s assets, and

WHEREAS, the lack of water has led some misguided souls to seek more potent refreshment or for other reasons has resulted in irrational and outrageous actions seeking to move a long established and peaceful boundary, and

WHEREAS, it is deemed better to light a candle than curse the darkness, and better to offer a cool, wet kiss of friendship rather than face a hot and angry legislator gone mad from thirst, and

WHEREAS, it is feared that if today they come for our river, tomorrow they might come for our Jack Daniels or George Dickel,

NOW THEREFORE, In the interest of brotherly love, peace, friendship, mutual prosperity, citywide self promotion, political grandstanding and all that

I Ron Littlefield, Mayor of the City of Chattanooga, Tennessee,

Do hereby Proclaim that Wednesday, February 27, 2008 shall be known as

"Give Our Georgia Friends a Drink Day"

I'm sure I'm not the only person that rolled my eyes when I read that our lawmakers voted to have our boundary moved rather than impose conservation efforts. Let's hope they take the hint from Tennessee and look inward for a fix instead.

Making Home Sweet Home

2008-02-23T22:57:00.002-05:00

After nearly 7 months, I'm finally getting down to my last few boxes to unpack. I finally put my photos up on the wall. I guess I have decided this place is home now.

So I've moved on to the bigger projects, mainly trying to fix the landscaping the dogs have been doing since we moved in. I built two more kennel runs a couple weeks ago, which allowed us to take in 18 pets in the last 10 days, most of which have now been moved to foster homes. What a great feeling it is to be able to go into animal control and take more than one at a time even if foster space isn't immediately available.

So, back to the bigger projects thing... I've been lucky enough to find some great deals on Craigslist for outdoor furniture as well as chainlink fencing. I decided to segregate the 1/2 acre that is already fenced in to give me 1/3 and the dogs the rest. This hasn't been an easy feat to accomplish due to uncooperative weather and hectic schedules, but the good Lord graced me with an angel at the Home and Garden Show last month. Gary of Daniel Kitchen and Bath offered to donate his time to help out with the bigger projects here at the "ranch." He came on his vacation day and set our posts, and plans to come this week and help me string the chainlink. After which I can reclaim a portion of the backyard for me. I've really missed entertaining my friends, and I had such a great time hosting my volunteers for New Year's Eve this year, so I look forward to making my backyard retreat something my friends will want to visit often. Afterall, they already have to drive such a long way to see me, it better be worth the trip!

Media Insensitivity to Sugar Refinery Blast

2008-02-12T16:09:00.002-05:00

In the world we live in, we shouldn't be surprised that there is always someone out to make a buck off of any situation. But when it's your hometown paper allowing someone several states away to do that, it just makes you sick.

On page 4-A of the Savannah Morning News this morning was a full page ad from a law firm in Texas soliciting people injured in the blast to contact them for legal representation. Yes, we expect lawyers to be chomping at the bit to get their names in on this, (check out what New York lawfirm Mark & Associates, P.C. has put together) but really, couldn't our hometown paper show some respect for all involved and postpone the printing of this ad? I mean really, the fires aren't even all out yet.

But the insensitivity doesn't stop there. A reporter from Jacksonville, FL, Jennifer Bauer of WJXT (aka "Jen the News Junkie") wrote on her blog about what a tragedy it was that there was no Starbucks in Port Wentworth:

Josh Beauchamp (my photographer) and I were live at 6pm, 6:30 and 10pm. Not only was it a sad day...it was going to be a LONG ride home! Before we got into the truck and started on our 2 1/2 hour journey I said, "I could really go for a coffee. Not a gas station coffee...a Starbucks coffee!"Well...good Luck trying to find a Starbucks in Port Wentworth - they don't even have a McDonalds! So...Josh used his handy dandy GPS to locate the nearest...11 miles away (22 miles round trip.) We decided to do it! Half way there Josh asked, "I wonder what time they close?" Good question, considering it was after 11pm. We called them and they told us they were in the process of locking their doors. UGH!

Jen goes on in the post to say that they called Starbucks and explained they were with the media and the store stayed open so they could get their coffee. I'm not surprised, it's a little thing called Southern hospitality. However, I don't think being a media person in this situation should grant such entitlement, but to each her own. Now, had it been one of our local reporters who were on the scene for many hours (as with WTOC and WJCL/FOX), not just to broadcast segments at three showings, that would be a different story.

I did a Google search to find the station where she works. Her bio boasts that:

She was also one of the first to arrive in Biloxi, Miss., after Hurricane Katrina crippled the area in August 2005.

You kinda have to wonder how far around she had to call to get a Starbucks that was open. After all, she's media, and they must be more important than the fire, ems, emergency workers, victims and families that are trying to figure out how to get through hour after hour without their Starbucks fix.

Funny enough, after her blog entry was posted on a local Savannah blog, several folks went and posted comments on the news jokie's blog. I was in an onery mood and decided to leave a feedback email through the news station's website commending them on hiring reporters with such high journalistic objectivity and integrity. Who knows if it went through; I never saw a confirmation message, but I felt better. I have lots of compassion for all that have been affected by the explosion, including my emergency and crisis worker friends who continue to work at the site and with the families. As such, I take great offense to anyone trying to make light or take advantage of the situation.

I'm an Aquarius with a Big Heart

2008-02-11T23:33:00.000-05:00

I'm in a weird mood today/tonight. I don't know quite why, but something propelled me to check out Astrology.com and read my horoscope for the day:

You've got a big heart -- bigger than most people know. Today is perfect for combining it with your big brain to figure out some new way to help people or the planet. It may start a new trend.

Hmm. I half expected it to read, "You will encounter lots of poo. Don't forget paper towels on the way home." Of course, that's how it always feels when a new litter gets dropped off. But you know me, always a sucker for those baby blue eyes and puppy breath.

So anyways, back to this mood thing... my friend Dan talked to me last night about some of the mental health counseling they do at the Red Cross. He's been working hard since the explosion, and I'm sure it won't slow down anytime soon. He told me last night that one of the things they do is ask a person their name, and then ask them how they feel about having that name. I rolled my eyes.

My mom named me, and gave me her name as my middle name. Growing up, I could never quite figure out who I was or who I wanted to be. I told Dan about how I had changed my name throughout my childhood, mainly the spelling, or dropping my middle name (which I still rarely use), or using my confirmation name which I thought was more elegant, after all, I chose the name off of one of my favorite Jane Austin characters. But it was an intriguing point to consider.

But that's not what is really bothering me. I just turned 29 and I'm still not sure I know what I want to do with my life. Of course, I want to continue with the rescue, but it does get lonely. I know I want my masters degree, and some other certifications, though finding the time right now is becoming a bit harder with each day. But I started to think about all the things I've sacrificed for the last five years to keep this passion going. I had never really thought of it as a sacrifice until I found myself alone for the "Savannah Heroes" presentation at the Lucas Saturday night. What does it say for a person that can be called a "celebrity" on a SavannahNOW blog, but can't get someone to accompany her to those types of events? I know I'm not alone as I read similar thoughts on blogs for other rescuers. Perhaps it is just not an easy to understand life we lead. But it could also be that I set my expectations too high of other people. I've always been of the mindset that if I can do it, so can others. I don't consider anything I do extraordinary, but just following the example set by my family, school and Church.

So, I guess this is a pre-30 crisis I'm going through. But I'm sure I'll forget about it shortly, after all, I have 10 days of spending two hours each day attempting to successfully medicate 7 squirmy puppies who would rather spit everything up all over me than be able to go to the bathroom normally. Ah, the joys of rescue puppyhood.

Pet Insurance: To Buy or Not To Buy, Take 2

2008-02-11T09:12:00.000-05:00

Last April, I wrote about why people should consider purchasing pet insurance for their pets. It seems a hot topic again this week as one of our volunteers posted about an article on the issue from Salon.com that started a huge discussion, and tonight, WSAV plans to have the story on at 6. It seems the issue is really divided amongst pet lovers, and even amongst our volunteers.

I have kept insurance on my DaVinci since I adopted him at 6 weeks of age. I then kept it on Hannah since I adopted her last year. I'm a single woman who lives on a tight budget as I don't make much from my paying job and have sacrificed to have a home big enough for all the dogs. I can't afford expensive medical treatments, and I was so grateful when DaVinci got mauled to have the insurance cover anything as the bills just kept mounting. I don't have kids, so my dogs are my children. I would be lost without them, so why wouldn't I protect them as others protect their children?

The argument is that pet insurance is too expensive and doesn't cover much. I really think that people saying that are not shopping around. It's like car insurance. Every company has different offerings and coverage levels. You have to find one that works for you. Progressive recently started offering pet insurance to their auto customers. At one time, AAA had a pet insurance program. I personally use Pet Care Insurance as they provide special programs to adopters of new pets to help in the event of extra care being needed. I support them because they support rescue. They are also the same company that provides our microchips, so there are benefits and discounts for using both programs.

If you are not going to buy pet insurance, you should consider setting aside money each month to have as an emergency fund for your pet. I have seen vet care cost people well into $10,000. If you don't have insurance, will you make the decision to permanently let go of your pet or just find a way in that stressful time to raise the funds? The Humane Society of the United States also has some ideas on how to raise money for unexpected vet costs:

Ask your veterinarian if he or she will let you work out a payment plan.
If you have a specific breed of dog, contact the National Club for that breed. In some cases, these clubs offer a veterinary financial assistance fund.
Ask your veterinarian to submit an assistance request to the American Animal Hospital Association (AAHA) "Helping Pets Fund."
Use your credit card. Ask for a higher credit limit or a cash advance.
Call your bank. Ask about loan programs, second mortgages, or other options. Consider borrowing from your life insurance policy, vacation savings, kids' education fund, or retirement program.
Ask your employer for a salary advance.
Alert family and friends and ask them each for a $25 loan.
Pawn your stuff. TVs and VCRs can be replaced. Your pet can't.
Consider taking on a part-time job or temping.
Contact the regional office of The HSUS that covers your state. Our regional office staff is often familiar with organizations and personnel within their territory and may be able to direct you to programs in your area.

The HSUS also recommends calling your local animal shelter for assistance. Sadly, most of us cannot afford to help people with their personal pets. We are often taxed enough trying to provide care for the homeless pets already in our programs. If your pet is in need of orthopedic care, you can contact the University of Georgia College of Veterinary Medicine. Also, United Animal Nation offers a LifeLine grant to help pet owners care for animals in life-threatening situations.

Don't wait until the situation arises to decide how to handle emergency care for your pet. Explore your options now and make sure you have a plan. It's much easier than having to decide between your bank account and the life of your pet.

Hey, Y'all, I'm a Celebrity!

2008-02-11T00:21:00.000-05:00

On Thursday night, I wrote my feelings about the local TV coverage of the tragedy at Dixie Crystals Refinery. Apparently, my posting upset someone enough to repost it on SavannahNOW's blog:

Local Celebrity Lisa Scabrough President and Founder of Coastal Pet Rescue Slams WSAV for lack of coverage
Submitted by tessamartin98 on Sat, 2008-02-09 19:39. :: Islands

Don't these news channel support you and your cause when you are solicting for donations and award recognitions?

Not very nice coming from somebody I use to admire and look up too!

First, let me say how cool it is that someone called me a celebrity. Not a word I've ever considered for myself, but thanks just the same.

Second, as for the channels that support my cause, that's really not the point here. But, since it was brought up, let me say that no, WSAV has not supported my direct cause in quite some time. I attended a VIP lunch the day after the Top Ten Working Women in Savannah awards where they point blank stated they were taking a different direction with their news coverage and PR/community event coverage such as we had done time and time again with Lyndy Brannen was out the door (and shortly thereafter, so was Lyndy, but we got him back through WJCL). What they choose to cover is their decision. But, since they don't cover issues that I consider important, they don't get my viewership. No hard feelings, I just prefer to give my loyalty to those that share theirs. WTOC's Sonny Dixon and Jody Chapin have been a big help to us over the years, and WJCL actually came on as an official sponsor for us this past year. Despite our loyalty to them, I still acknowledge that WTOC had the better coverage for this major disaster.

As a member of what I consider a small community where you are only a degree and a half from knowing everyone else, I was sorely disappointed that WSAV didn't see this story as big as WTOC and WJCL/FOX. Three out of four stations dropped all network programming to be sure their audiences had the latest in information. They understand that Savannah is an "everyone knows someone" town and that this story affected everyone, whether directly or indirectly. So yes, I say give credit where credit is deserved, and it goes to those who show they care about our community.

And lastly, let me point out that my job is to promote my cause. I exist to make people question things and look at how they can change the world around them with simple steps and small commitments. If the fact that I wanted to make WSAV take a second look at how they view our community makes someone stop admiring me, then you really don't understand anything about the work I do.

I Am My Father's Daughter

2008-02-10T23:03:00.000-05:00

Last night, I was humbly honored as a Savannah Hero at the Lucas Theater. It was amazing to meet the other four heroes. I feel like I've done so little to change our world in comparison. The event was put on by the Georgia Equality foundation to recognize people in their 20s who have made a difference in the Savannah area, just prior to the Rocky Horror Show production. I stayed for the performance and had a blast. But what really got to me happened at intermission.

Since I had gone by myself, I took a balcony seat so as to not to stand out. But apparently, I was not as alone as I thought. I stepped outside to enjoy some fresh air and was continually hugged by people I've known since childhood and throughout my rescue work. Two gentlemen that I had just met an hour before the show came up and told me they couldn't believe it when they saw me on stage having just met me at The Marshall House. But that's what I love about Savannah, the only 1.5 degrees of separation.

So how does this tie into being my father's daughter? Well, when the performance was over, I headed outside and heard voices behind me. They turned out to be four folks from Tybee, one who, before she said hi, said, "You look just like your dad." Yep, I get that a lot. To be honest, if they hadn't said my name on stage or in the program, I'm not sure she would have even known it. But it's always nice to know people remember me, even if it is only because of my Daddy. Afterall, I take after him in so many ways besides my looks.

When I first went to work at eMarketSouth, I was the only female for quite some time. It meant I had to do the traditional girly things: take messages, make our booths look pretty at expos, attend dinners. At one dinner in particular, I was presenting a website I had just built for the Savannah Executives Association. I arrived early to set up the computer, then followed my boss' instructions to have a seat and wait for him. Dinner came, and then the presentation. You could hear the gasps as I stood up, put on my glasses, and proceeded to the computer. Afterwards, women came up to congratulate me about how wonderful it was that I did this when they didn't know anything about computers. I was high on my work. Then my boss took to making individual introductions of me to fellow members (all men), which I thought was flattering, until one particular introduction. He introduced me as "Mike in a dress." Not really the image a girl likes to have of her father, but knowing my dad, it probably wouldn't be a surprise to any of his friends if he had ever done anything like that.

My dad is who instilled in me a sense of community service. Very few folks know it, but my dad actually went to seminary school to become a priest. As he told a story on Super Bowl Sunday, the brothers at the monastery actually called his mom and explained to her that her son needed to find another path in life. It could have been from him having turned his dorm closet into a liquor cabinet, or maybe it was getting up at 5 am to raise the Confederate flag on Lee's birthday. Who knows. But being a good Catholic as his parents had raised, he always found ways to give of himself, continuing to this day through his work as a Shriner.

It's no secret that my dad is responsible for the majority of the animals in our house growing up. So it should have been no surprise that I turned my life into service for this rescue. Every once in awhile, he'll ask me why I do it, and I'll always reply, "It's your fault."

So while I would one day want everyone to know I have a first name, I'm still content to be recognized as "Mike's daughter."

Dixie Crystals Sugar Refinery Plant Explosion and the Human Response

2008-02-07T23:25:00.000-05:00

I'm a nosy person. Growing up on Tybee, everyone always knows everyone else's business. So it was no surprise that a few moments after I arrived to Moon River to meet up with some folks this evening cell phones lit up to tell us about the fire at the Dixie Crystals Sugar Refinery in Port Wentworth. More than half of the room were folks who either work in or used to work in Savannah media. So someone ran up to the TV and turned it on to find some coverage. We could only get channel 3 (WSAV) and 11 (WTOC). WSAV didn't seem concerned about interrupting Deal or No Deal but eventually put up a crawler, but WTOC was all over it from the moment it started until even now as I write this post (11:30 pm). At one point, Sonny Dixon even stated "please don't call us about network programming; we aren't going to stop our coverage tonight." Kudos to them for understanding that the lives of our community members is more important than the season premier of Survivor (we noticed that WSAV kept showing their game shows and had a note in the bottom right hand corner promoting a new TV show premiering at 10). Around 8:30 we were finally able to tune in to 22 (WJCL) through the bad reception, but most in the room were not a fan of the special guest in the studio and didn't understand why she was there, so we went back to WTOC and kept it there until we left around 10 pm. I have to say what wonderful coverage they had from the scene, the hospitals and the studio, utilizing all their staff in every capacity.

I think what has really touched me is how all the surrounding communities responded, sending EMS and Firefighters from Bryan County, Bulloch County, Effingham County, Southside Fire, Garden City and Tybee Island. I loved watching the live shots of all the ambulances lived down HWY 25 just waiting to be activated. Everyone on camera seemed so patient, eager to do what they can to help save their neighbors. Hats off to the Red Cross for establishing a comfort center to aid the responders and having volunteers to aid families at the hospitals. But I was most impressed by the area hotels who offered free rooms to out of town family, workers who can't get home, and emergency personnel.

Memorial Health is to also be commended for their immediate response and preparation for all the trauma. It was amazing to see the shots on WTOC of all the stretchers waiting as the first run of ambulances made it into the parking lot. It seemed as if everything was calm and under control, even as Georgia State Patrol came in to handle traffic.

As Sonny Dixon explained, this plant is a huge part of the Port Wentworth community. There are families who have worked there for generations, so this is a huge loss not to mention the injuries that can be sustained from the explosion. Having lived here most of my life, I can't remember anything this big having ever happened before. Port Wentworth is even having to divert water supply from one part of town to the plant site in order to help fight the fire which continues to burn after 4.5 hours. It seems as if WSAV is only "On Your Side" when it doesn't interfere with their network programming (ps - edited to say that is is now 12:06 am and WTOC is still going strong with their continuous coverage with no signs of slowing down soon).

So as I sit here unable to turn off the coverage because of my own selfish need to know what is going on, I just have to say how great it feels to be a part of a community that can jump into action for our neighbors. It's moments like this that really help to renew my faith in humanity.

My thoughts and prayers are with all the workers involved and their families.

Happy Birthday to Me

2008-02-06T20:32:00.000-05:00

So yesterday was my 29th birthday. I made it 29 years without killing someone, that probably far exceeded some of the expectations of my friends from high school. Lord knows I have plenty of those thoughts working in the rescue as ignorant people abound in this world.

So today, one of my co-workers decided to blog about me. How cool is that? She called me impressive, and it was a pick me up I needed. But then I saw something on her page about "what type of flower are you?" I took the quiz, expecting to either be lucky bamboo that can live without much (except I managed to kill the stuff a few years back because I kept forgetting to give it water) or a cactus as I consider myself pretty low maintenance. Nope, according to the quiz, I am an Echinacea:

You are a health conscious person, both your health and the health of others. You know all about the health benefits and dangers of the world around you.

Um, wait, healt conscious? How in the world did that happen? Anyone who knows me knows I'm pretty much the anti-thesis of that. I hate vegetables and exercise, love chocolate, steaks and pizza. True, I care about the health of my friends, family and pets, but really, I don't even bother with Tylenol. Oh well. Maybe these online quizzes aren't as accurate as they seem. Guess you can't always believe everything you read online. Darn.

So anyhow, back to how I spent my birthday... In typical Lisa fashion, I was up at 3 am due to the beckoning of a puppy about to release her bladder, then back up at 4 am to feed said puppy plus five and get dressed to be on TV until 9 am. After TV, headed in to the office to work for few hours, already feeling like my day was half over. From there it was off to meet mom for birthday lunch at my favorite place, The New South Cafe. (I highly recommend the pecan fried chicken and pecan pie.) Good friends Bunny and Scott stopped in to say hi and wish me well. I thanked Mom and headed over to animal control to check out a new puppy. Like I really had to. I grabbed the marker, put our name on it, jumped in my car and ran home. By 3 pm it was about 84 degrees, and I couldn't resist taking to sunning in my backyard for the first time. And to think, 29 years ago on that day it was snowing. I love living in Savannah.

After my sunny nap, I headed inside to feed the pack and clean myself up for my birthday party. Some of the gals from the rescue were having a CPR Anniversary/Lisa's Birthday/Mardi Gras party. As always, it was good food and good fun. We watched American Idol and laughed at the kid from Savannah who thought he'd teach Simon a thing or two. The things teens will do for attention. By 11 pm, everyone was headed home, and I figured I might do that as well since I had to work the next morning. By 1 am I was finally in bed and ready to crash.

So what have I learned in my 29 years? That which doesn't kill me makes me stronger, Jesus forgives but I may not forget, and I will always be the baby in my family. Oh, and the dogs will always love me as long as I give them food, a good scratch behind the ears, and get up at 3 am to let them go potty.