A rescue heart

I absolutely love animals. Well, okay, maybe I am not an equal opportunity animal lover.  I prefer furry, non-rodent types.  My son wants a snake, and was told to read his apartment lease carefully so that he can get one when he moves out.  I don't mind snakes (or frogs for that matter) but they aren't companions, like cats or dogs.

A cat lives with us.  Other families that share their home with a cat understand that cats are pets you never really own.  They just tolerate you because you feed them. My cat, Denali, is absolutely insane but quintessentially feline. She loves you on her terms, will sit on your lap if she wants to, and reserves the right to stalk your feet if she happens to be hiding under the bed.  She has a great purr- which is one of my most favorite sounds.  A good loud purr makes me feel like everything is right in the world.  It's just so relaxing...ahhhhh.  She is also an outstanding hunter of mice, crickets, tree frogs, anoles, chipmunks, birds, and baby squirrels. She was staking out the rabbit burrow in the yard, but I don't think she did anything more than that.  In NY, I had one of the few mouse-free homes in Stony I housing area, and would offer to lend the cat to my neighbors.  She isn't particularly big and no one believes that she is about 10.  We aren't 100% sure of her age because she was adopted from the Ft Lee Vet Clinic's shelter. 

Okay, so maybe I am a sucker for strays.

Denali was an insane 18 month old thing, most likely feral and on the small side.  For the record, I wanted to adopt a medium-coated cat that looked more tranquil, but my husband convinced me that short hair was the way to go (he was right- read on to Shaw's story).  She was litter box trained, which is the only thing that made the relationship work initially.  Our dog (Murphy, RIP) would watch the cat run around and jump on things with what looked like amusement, coupled with confusion about what the hell was going on.  Denali would try to run, but we had wood floors, so she didn't have any traction and slid out on corners. Yes, I laughed- especially that time she actually slid into a wall.  One day, she ran down the stairs, across the LR/DR and jumped into the wastebasket we kept under our desk.  She stayed in there for about 30 minutes, then hopped out and casually strolled into the kitchen for some food. Loony, no?

Murphy (our black lab/something mix) was a stray as well. She wandered into our yard in Clarksville, TN and was halfway to starved with BBs under her skin and a collar two sizes too small.  I swear I was only going to keep her until we could find her a good home.  I was working and pregnant with #2, #1 was only 19 months old. I did not need this dog. But Murphy was so sweet to the kids and scared of everything else....well, needless to say she still lived with us when she died shortly after #5 was born in 2007.  It broke my heart and I actually mourned the silly dog. #1 was very upset also.  He felt bad that he called her a dumb dog sometimes and thought he should have been nicer to her.  Bunch of saps, we are.

When we moved to TX, I adopted a Lab from a rescue.  She was returned to rescue and now works for DEA as a drug dog.  She was very smart and energetic, but my kids made her anxious.  I researched breeds and met lots of dogs. I ended up adopting a cat (that makes 2) that my friend found in her yard.  He was old, dirty, long-haired, declawed and just pitiful.  I named him Shawangunk (Shaw or Gunky for short).  Shaw was the first cat I ever put in a sink and washed, which is where "declawed" came in handy.  He had an ENDLESS supply of hair and I would just comb and comb and comb that cat until I had a cat-sized ball of fur. Then I would flip the cat over and brush his other side.  It did keep me busy while my husband was in Iraq- at least I had a cat to groom while I watched TV at night.  I was grateful my husband insisted on a short hair cat all those years ago when I brought home Denali.  Shaw lived with us for 19 months, until his body really went to pot and we had to have him put down.

During this time, I worked with an Austin rescue to pull 2 fabulous dogs from the Killeen shelter (a Border/ Pyrenees mix and an Aussie/Sheltie mix).  My heart broke every time I heard of dogs being abandoned because people did not educate themselves fully about a particular breed and (even worse!) the person that sold the dog didn't take the time to educate them.  I eventually decided to volunteer with the Golden Retriever rescue. 

Since I have a lot of kids and not all that much free time,  I was happy to find things I could do.  I did phone interviews with prospective adoptive families and I checked the rescue's voice mail for a week from time to time, and we were on a list of approved foster homes for dogs awaiting adoption.  The voice mail was known as the "hotline" because people could call anytime to leave us a message.  Too often, it was a call from a GR owner that wanted to surrender his or her dog.  When I first signed up for hotline, another volunteer (who did an amazing amount of things for the dogs) said that I must have a true "rescue heart" to do that.  After my first week on hotline, I figured out what she meant. 

There were a record number of surrenders that first week.  One woman I spoke with for almost an hour, because she was so heartbroken to surrender her dog, but a neighbor was trying to poison it.  There was the dog alone in the yard of an empty house in the summertime, whose owners left it when they moved away. There was the woman who spoke of surrendering the dog like one might talk about getting rid of a couch. 

A rescue heart:
I was not there to condemn or judge the surrendering owner.
I didn't let the dog's current quality of life get me down. 
I knew that the dog, once we had it in our custody, was going to get the best care and most love the volunteers (and vets) could provide. 
I worried more about dogs left on country roads, or stuck in the pound and sharing a cage with an agressive dog (like the border/pyr mix I got into rescue).


I feel the same way about kids.  It's kind of a "let's take them all home" feeling.  If I didn't have six young kids, I would seriously consider being a foster parent. Maybe I'll do it when mine get older.  My big, liberal-sounding, save-the-world pipe dream is to open a school.  I'm not sure if it would have to be private or charter, but it would focus on freeing kids from the horrible schools some are trapped in and giving them a real opportunity.  It could be urban or rural, but urban seems more likely. I would require parental involvement and would insist on discipline in the school.  The beauty of private schools lies in their ability to tell the kids who aren't interested in learning to leave.  I hope to catch them early enough that they will be interested in learning, but cultural pressures are hard to overcome.  Perhaps two schools, one for each gender, would be better.

Okay, reality check....
I signed up to be a volunteer for a dog rescue here in VA. 
My school(s?) will have to wait at least until everyone is potty-trained.