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.
Showing posts with label pet rescue. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pet rescue. Show all posts
Friday, June 26, 2009
Thursday, April 19, 2007
We Are Not a Shelter, and I Do Not Get Paid
I don't know how many times I have to reiterate this. Animal rescue is a very tough business to be in, but even tougher when you have limited space and no income.
I wear a lot of different hats and have lots of people to communicate with on a daily basis. I also work full time as a web programmer, work part time as an animal care worker at Animal Control, and am enrolled full-time through Duquesne University. Basically, I don't sleep. So it is a little frustrating when people are pushy with me. Just today I had an email from someone that had sent us some hand-made bedding for kittens. I had already written her that we didn't have any at the time, but appreciated the gift and hoped to use them later. Instead, I went to using them for our very young puppies (I did try it with Sia, but she much preferred her litter box). So imagine how disheartened I was today to get an email demanding me to return the items to her because they were not being used as specified. Our supplies are always limited and we use evertyhing that we can. It is probably my fault because I didn't overwhelm her with gratitude. I had assumed that my simple thank you and acknowledgement was enough. But it wasn't. So I took the one away that Dixie had been using, placed it in a plastic bag, and put it in a box to be returned. We were blessed last month to have Peggy donate a bag of baby blankets, so although it is larger than I wanted for Dixie (didn't want to smother her), it did provide a comfy alternative.
Why is it so hard for people to do nice things without great expectations in return? We always send a hand-written thank you to our donors, and I like to think we are very approachable. But geez, can't we get some consideration for our time? Everyone who works with us does so for their love of animals; none of us receive any montetary compensation. We answer emails on our own free time, which is already limited by work, school, and family life. Sometimes, we have to prioritize how/when people are contacted. We have a secretary that returns all voicemail, an adoption coordinator who handles all correspondence for adoption, a foster coordinator to handle some of the intake and veterinary requests, and a TNR coordinator that handles all correspondence relating to our feral cat program. That leaves all other correspondence to me, which can be anywhere from 80 to 200 emails a day. So yes, it may take a day or so or longer to get a response from me, but I really do the best I can.
And as for us being a shelter, I really don't know how best to explain this. We are not a shelter. We do not have a physical facility that you can drop in anytime you want. We're a foster home organization. The animals live with us in our homes. Again, this means our free time is given up to provide veterinary care, socialization, training, and rehabilitation. So yes, you have to have an appointment to meet one of our pets. And when you do arrive at my house, do not expect Martha Stewart to live here. It is me and the dogs. If it is a long week like this one, there may be laundry in a basket waiting to be folded that has been sitting for four days, dog fur that hasn't been vacuumed in a week, Cutters Point frappe cups stacked on the coffee table, and maybe even a Pizza Hut box on the end table. Or even a hair dryer and wet towels in the corner from the last round of baths.
So please, cut me a little break, will you? I am only one person, and I am really doing the best I can. If you disagree, come spend one day with me and see just how much one person can accomplish in 24 hours, or take a proactive approach and become a volunteer.
I wear a lot of different hats and have lots of people to communicate with on a daily basis. I also work full time as a web programmer, work part time as an animal care worker at Animal Control, and am enrolled full-time through Duquesne University. Basically, I don't sleep. So it is a little frustrating when people are pushy with me. Just today I had an email from someone that had sent us some hand-made bedding for kittens. I had already written her that we didn't have any at the time, but appreciated the gift and hoped to use them later. Instead, I went to using them for our very young puppies (I did try it with Sia, but she much preferred her litter box). So imagine how disheartened I was today to get an email demanding me to return the items to her because they were not being used as specified. Our supplies are always limited and we use evertyhing that we can. It is probably my fault because I didn't overwhelm her with gratitude. I had assumed that my simple thank you and acknowledgement was enough. But it wasn't. So I took the one away that Dixie had been using, placed it in a plastic bag, and put it in a box to be returned. We were blessed last month to have Peggy donate a bag of baby blankets, so although it is larger than I wanted for Dixie (didn't want to smother her), it did provide a comfy alternative.
Why is it so hard for people to do nice things without great expectations in return? We always send a hand-written thank you to our donors, and I like to think we are very approachable. But geez, can't we get some consideration for our time? Everyone who works with us does so for their love of animals; none of us receive any montetary compensation. We answer emails on our own free time, which is already limited by work, school, and family life. Sometimes, we have to prioritize how/when people are contacted. We have a secretary that returns all voicemail, an adoption coordinator who handles all correspondence for adoption, a foster coordinator to handle some of the intake and veterinary requests, and a TNR coordinator that handles all correspondence relating to our feral cat program. That leaves all other correspondence to me, which can be anywhere from 80 to 200 emails a day. So yes, it may take a day or so or longer to get a response from me, but I really do the best I can.
And as for us being a shelter, I really don't know how best to explain this. We are not a shelter. We do not have a physical facility that you can drop in anytime you want. We're a foster home organization. The animals live with us in our homes. Again, this means our free time is given up to provide veterinary care, socialization, training, and rehabilitation. So yes, you have to have an appointment to meet one of our pets. And when you do arrive at my house, do not expect Martha Stewart to live here. It is me and the dogs. If it is a long week like this one, there may be laundry in a basket waiting to be folded that has been sitting for four days, dog fur that hasn't been vacuumed in a week, Cutters Point frappe cups stacked on the coffee table, and maybe even a Pizza Hut box on the end table. Or even a hair dryer and wet towels in the corner from the last round of baths.
So please, cut me a little break, will you? I am only one person, and I am really doing the best I can. If you disagree, come spend one day with me and see just how much one person can accomplish in 24 hours, or take a proactive approach and become a volunteer.
Sunday, April 15, 2007
Just $10 to Save a Life
It doesn't seem like much, but $10 can really mean the life or death for a pet. How so? Imagine your pet finds itself in the grasps of a local animal control facility. They have 3 to 7 days, sometimes more, most times less, for you to reclaim them. But how do you know they are there? If your pet has a microchip, animal control workers will scan your pet, get the id number, and give you a call to reunite the two of you.
So where does the $10 come in to play? Many vets charge between $30 to $60 for your pet to be microchipped. If you have multiple pets, this can be a huge expense. So we started offering low-cost clinics three years ago using the 24PetWatch program. So for just $10, you can have piece of mind that your pet will be reunited with you rather than counted among the millions of homeless pets euthanized each year.
Yesterday, we held a low-cost microchip clinic at Tybee Island's Memorial Park (thanks to Tybee City Council for their help). Pet owners brough 103 pets to us, 83 dogs and 20 cats. We never got to sit down, and Dr. Charra and Anne of All About Pets Mobile Vet even stayed late to get everyone chipped. But most astounding was that the pets were not all from Tybee; in fact, only 28 were. The rest came from much farther away: Midway, Guyton, Bluffton, Hilton Head Island, Pooler, Springfield, Bloomingdale, Richmond Hill, Garden City, Collins, and Savannah. It really brought home that what we are doing makes a huge difference for these pets, so much so that we are going to add more clinics this summer instead of just one a quarter. We just have to find more businesses to allow us the space, and a few more vet techs to give up their time.
So where does the $10 come in to play? Many vets charge between $30 to $60 for your pet to be microchipped. If you have multiple pets, this can be a huge expense. So we started offering low-cost clinics three years ago using the 24PetWatch program. So for just $10, you can have piece of mind that your pet will be reunited with you rather than counted among the millions of homeless pets euthanized each year.
Yesterday, we held a low-cost microchip clinic at Tybee Island's Memorial Park (thanks to Tybee City Council for their help). Pet owners brough 103 pets to us, 83 dogs and 20 cats. We never got to sit down, and Dr. Charra and Anne of All About Pets Mobile Vet even stayed late to get everyone chipped. But most astounding was that the pets were not all from Tybee; in fact, only 28 were. The rest came from much farther away: Midway, Guyton, Bluffton, Hilton Head Island, Pooler, Springfield, Bloomingdale, Richmond Hill, Garden City, Collins, and Savannah. It really brought home that what we are doing makes a huge difference for these pets, so much so that we are going to add more clinics this summer instead of just one a quarter. We just have to find more businesses to allow us the space, and a few more vet techs to give up their time.
Saturday, March 24, 2007
A Foster Mom's Heartache
I don't have children. I hope to some day, but for now, all I have are my foster babies. I can't imagine what a mom must feel for her flesh and blood, but all I know right now is the devastation from watching a puppy suffer for the last few days. I thought even though I recognized the signs and rushed him to the vet early enough, that maybe Tyler would be ok the next day. It hasn't happened yet. My vet told me today, "just when we think we know everything about Parvo, it changes." My heart hurts. I was so happy when I walked into the kennel this morning and he sat up on his haunches and flapped his tail, but I could see it was a struggle for him. The drool was still hanging from his mouth from his latest episode, the IV wire limiting his moving radius. He closed his eyes as I scratched behind his ears, telling him that everything was going to be fine, he had good doctors looking after him. He didn't respond much, just sat there. Thursday he had been out running with my older dogs, and today, it seemed a struggle for him to sit up. No matter how much I smiled at him this morning, how much I told him it would all be ok, I could feel anything but when I left. I remember the two puppies we had a year ago, littermates... one made it through, the other didn't. There's no reason why. I feel helpless as I sit here, praying, hoping that my little boy will come through. I won't get to see him again until Monday. A lot can happen in that time. Why, why can't people properly care for their pets?
Saturday, March 3, 2007
CoastalPetRescue.org V.4.0
A week ago yesterday, I launched CoastalPetRescue.org V.4.0. For those of you who don't know, I'm a geek by trade, and that's the main reason you see me online all the time. I pride myself at building great websites, which is why our rescue site was so extensive.
After four years on the web, I decided it was time for a new look. I took a lot of feedback from visitors, volunteers, adopters and donors, and tried to make the site more user-friendly, and, hopefully, more fun. You'll see photos on every page now featuring our volunteers and pets, with the goal of personalizing the experience more. I want visitors to see what we are doing, why it is important to the community, and how successful we can be in our mission with enough help.
So, if you haven't visited recently, take a break from your normal online routine, stop over, and bookmark us. The site changes each week, and we need you to help us to continue to change the lives of needy pets.
www.coastalpetrescue.org - Changing Lives, One at a Time
After four years on the web, I decided it was time for a new look. I took a lot of feedback from visitors, volunteers, adopters and donors, and tried to make the site more user-friendly, and, hopefully, more fun. You'll see photos on every page now featuring our volunteers and pets, with the goal of personalizing the experience more. I want visitors to see what we are doing, why it is important to the community, and how successful we can be in our mission with enough help.
So, if you haven't visited recently, take a break from your normal online routine, stop over, and bookmark us. The site changes each week, and we need you to help us to continue to change the lives of needy pets.
www.coastalpetrescue.org - Changing Lives, One at a Time
Thursday, March 1, 2007
Rescue Mobile Nearing End
When I started this rescue endeavor of mine, I was driving a little Mazda Protege with sunroof. After the third time transporting a Great Dane, his head and paws in my lap while the rest of his body tried to fit in the back seat, it was apparent I needed a larger vehicle. The process was humiliating; at two different dealers I was asked what my husband thought of my making a purchase (this mattered little as I got divorced soon after the final purchase). A salesman at the dealer where I bought my current car turned his nose up when I explained the need for the larger vehicle, telling me I would need $10,000 down in order to get decent payments. I was so flustered. By the good graces of a good friend, I got a meeting directly with a dealer/owner in Beaufort, and drove home with a used but usable Mitsubishi Montero Sport.
Affectionately called my puppy mobile, the Montero Sport has been a great vehicle. It has in floor and sidewall storage to keep all my rescue tools out of the way of curious pups, and allows me to be prepared for most any situation. (The pullouts for the in-floor storage can be used as stabilizing boards for an injured pet.) I've put over 50,000 miles on the vehicle in the name of pet rescue. It's been great, but now, it's starting to come undone.
In an attempt to make the transition to a full-time rescuer, I came up with a great idea to get the vehicle paid off, out of my name, and in full ownership of the rescue. However, in reviewing it with a business friend, we figured that the lifetime of the vehicle may only be two more years given all the wear and tear. Not to mention I now find myself having to restrict my traveling because of bad tires that I can't afford to have replaced at the moment. Needless to say, this put a huge crimp in my "great idea."
So, where to go from here? I'm terrified at the options. If something happens to this vehicle, I have no way to get to and from animal control with new rescues, attend vet appointments, deliver animals to their foster homes, and place animals for adoption. Not to mention that I can't fit our 10x10 tent, tables, equipment, and crates in my dad's little '90 Suzuki Samarai that he lets me borrow every time my vehicle has to go into the shop. It's not a bad little ride though; it will crank about every 8th to 10th time you turn the key, and the rust really ads a lot of character (my dad's car, not mine). And I've always wanted a convertible, so at least having Daddy's beach buggy let's me feel the fresh air I love so much (yes, I consider Savannah air "fresh" having spent too many years in Atlanta). And let's not forget I still have at least a year to pay off this essential rescue asset.
Ok, enough of the diatribe. I'm interested in solutions. Anyone got any?
Affectionately called my puppy mobile, the Montero Sport has been a great vehicle. It has in floor and sidewall storage to keep all my rescue tools out of the way of curious pups, and allows me to be prepared for most any situation. (The pullouts for the in-floor storage can be used as stabilizing boards for an injured pet.) I've put over 50,000 miles on the vehicle in the name of pet rescue. It's been great, but now, it's starting to come undone.
In an attempt to make the transition to a full-time rescuer, I came up with a great idea to get the vehicle paid off, out of my name, and in full ownership of the rescue. However, in reviewing it with a business friend, we figured that the lifetime of the vehicle may only be two more years given all the wear and tear. Not to mention I now find myself having to restrict my traveling because of bad tires that I can't afford to have replaced at the moment. Needless to say, this put a huge crimp in my "great idea."
So, where to go from here? I'm terrified at the options. If something happens to this vehicle, I have no way to get to and from animal control with new rescues, attend vet appointments, deliver animals to their foster homes, and place animals for adoption. Not to mention that I can't fit our 10x10 tent, tables, equipment, and crates in my dad's little '90 Suzuki Samarai that he lets me borrow every time my vehicle has to go into the shop. It's not a bad little ride though; it will crank about every 8th to 10th time you turn the key, and the rust really ads a lot of character (my dad's car, not mine). And I've always wanted a convertible, so at least having Daddy's beach buggy let's me feel the fresh air I love so much (yes, I consider Savannah air "fresh" having spent too many years in Atlanta). And let's not forget I still have at least a year to pay off this essential rescue asset.
Ok, enough of the diatribe. I'm interested in solutions. Anyone got any?
Pet Rescue Barbie
Yes, go ahead and have your laughs. One of my nicknames in high school was Barbie, and a few years ago, someone sent an email around titled "Pet Rescue Barbie." It was scary to see just how accurate the depiction of my life it was. Thus the title of the new blog. This will deal only with pet-related issues, and not my usual tirades about the state of my personal life. I may pick up some past topics for new reflection, but hope that this will spark conversations and generate interest in the awareness of pet rescue overall.
This Christmas season, give the latest, hottest new Barbie -- K-9 Rescue Barbie or Cat 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.
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 other 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.
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 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 getting rid of those smelly cats and giving her some grandchildren $89.95(telephone extra)
Shrink who talks Barbie out of killing above-mentioned persons each week $500
Vet who makes house calls, refuses to perform declaw surgeries and doesn't blink at unannounced visits or odd-hour consultations: *priceless*
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