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October 2005 NOLA Volunteer Trip Journal
Click here to view photos with captions.

Most of the animals were severely emaciated, to the point where hips were jagged points and you could count every rib at a quick glance and see every single bump in their spine. They had all been through traumatic experiences -- many losing their families, some nearly drowning, most going weeks without food, and finally being taken to a strange place where they were kept in crates surrounded by other frightened animals.


An emaciated Great Dane rests his weary head.
His cage warned approachers to "Beware: Food Aggressive!"

I would read their paperwork hoping for a happy ending. Sometimes their owner was alive and would be returning to get them, other times they were a nameless, homeless animal found on an intersection. Many were heartworm positive, none of them were spayed or neutered and all of them had a story. My heart would break time and time again. Especially for the black pitt bull puppy covered in ringworm whose chart read, "Found in home. Companion pet eaten. Corpse scattered throughout the house."

Walking the Dogs
The vast majority of the dogs were large pit bulls, many of whom we suspect were raised for fighting which is illegal in all 50 states and a felony in most. The dogs were housed in long rows of crates in the barn, and they would try to tear each other to shreds as we paraded them in and out like tuna rolls on a sushi bar conveyor belt. This meant using every muscle in my hands, arms and legs to control them and guide them safely outside for their walks.

Much of this aggressive behavior was circumstantial.

They have all been through hell. Their crate, their 3 x 4 space, is all they have left. Guarding it to the death is an instinct that affected even the smallest, sweetest of dogs. But once we got them outside, they were like any other dog: happy to be outside, playful, eager to please and desperate for love and affection.

It was common for these vicious-looking dogs to give us hugs, lick our faces and even roll over on their backs so we could rub their bellies. We worked very hard coordinating efforts amongst other volunteers to establish a more unified routine from morning till night. Consistency will do wonders for a dog and by week's end, it was evident that our efforts paid off. They were bonding with us and relaxing around each other. The moments of pure quiet in the barn were beginning to outweigh the frantic, frenzied barking of a hundred dogs.

Help of All Types From Around the World
Donated food and supplies of every imaginable kind were delivered each day via FedEx. Many care packages were sent for the volunteers containing such coveted items as fresh socks, nail clippers, Q-tips, lotion, bug spray, you name it.

We had hot vegan and vegetarian meals paid for by donors from all parts of the U.S. prepared and delivered by a local caterer. One night the dinner came courtesy of two women, one in Oklahoma and the other in Colorado, who share the same birthday. Instead of throwing themselves birthday parties, they used that money to have the caterer provide the dinner, birthday cake and card included. We sang them happy birthday in absentia and listened as the caterer read their card aloud. It was so very thoughtful and touching everyone shed a tear.

Remember that laundry I folded? Someone had to wash it. Hundreds of pounds of filthy animal bedding was bagged up and left for washing. Each day someone would come by and drop of the bags they had cleaned. Two different women used their own home washer and dryer. Can you imagine? One woman even folded most of it for us!

One afternoon t
he Sheriff came by. He was wearing cowboy boots. (!!!) He was there to drop off 20 industrial size bags of of fresh laundry. I asked, "Did you do all this?" He said, "No. The warden had somebody do it." Ah, I see! Well, I hope the inmates felt good about helping the animals.

One day I sat near the dirty laundry to put on a fresh pair of donated socks. The barn was exceptionally quiet that moment. I kept hearing a persistent meow which perplexed me. The newborn kittens were not any where near me. I asked someone if they heard it. They did. It was coming from a bag of laundry. We carefully sorted through it and found, much to our shock, a puppy wrapped in bloody bedding and screeching loudly for his mother. The puppy's mom is particularly on guard. Changing her bedding and tending to her needs is a two or three person job and a rushed one at that. In their haste and effort to not be bitten, a puppy ended up in the dirty laundry! I was so relieved to see him returned to the over-protective eye of his mom. We made sure to do a head count each time after that.

 


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