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October
2005 NOLA Volunteer Trip Journal
Click
here to view photos with captions.
Our
last day of work was my best and worst. I absolutely did not
want to leave. I made sure to make extra notes on all the
paperwork.
"This boy can't hold it. Feed him last and walk him IMMEDIATELY
after he is done eating. DO NOT WAIT." Double underlined,
bold lettering, highlighted.
"She needs exercise or else she gets cage aggressive
out of boredom and frustration."
"Rub
this boy's bottom and facial scabs with Skin So Soft or else
he and his cage will be covered in gnats and flies."
I
passed on some tips to the new volunteers coming in:
"Make
sure the morning and night shifts feed them the same food.
Their solid poop will be your thanks."
"Wait
till your last dog is walked and they have all settled in
for the night before re-filling water bowls. Otherwise in
their excitement and frenzied barking they will knock their
water bowl over and you'll have to re-clean their cage."
"Don't
put a treat in their cage until AFTER their leash is removed."
And
would they know, really know, just how amazing every
single animal was here?
"Did
anyone tell you these cows were rescued? Yep. Ask Rudy
the Ranch Manager to tell you from where. I can make heads
or tails of his accent to figure it out myself. Oh, and let
me show you the calf! He was born just an hour ago!"
"This
chicken is a rescue, too. She won't stay with the other chickens
and refuses to leave the dogs. She claimed an empty crate
for a while till we shooed her out and collapsed it. Now she
just hangs around while all the dogs salivate at the sight
of her ripe rump. At
night she roosts on top of the cages of a pair of the quietest
pitt bulls. Every. Single. Night."
We
broke up the last day by taking a trek to a local drive thru.
"Four Bloody Mary's TO GO please!" We snapped pictures,
took video and were unabashed tourists in awe and shock. "Oh,
and a strawberry daiquiri, too, please." Drive thru booze?
How shamelessly wrong and awesome. Our server couldn't figure
out what the big deal was but, sure, we could take her picture.
We
laughed a lot but, in truth, I couldn't wait to get back.
This was 30 minutes less with these lonely, loving souls.
Dusk was approaching. It would be the last time I watched
one dragonfly turn into thousands. Just where were they all
day? The sky turned from blue to pink to black. It couldn't
be my last walk already. I'll wait to walk my favorite girl
last. She can hold it and we'll have a few extra minutes together.
"What's
your hurry, sugar? Don't you know the faster you go, the faster
we say goodbye?" She went. We said goodbye. I snuck in
the oversized bed and toy I had stashed earlier, gave her
a treat and filled out her chart.
"Hey,
Kambri, can you walk this dog?" Someone shouted down
at the other end. An exceptionally large Pitt Bull eagerly
panted with his nose pressed to the cage. He need to GO!
"Sure.
I guess I'll walk 17 instead of 16." Number 17 was stronger
than me multiplied by two and so was a bit intimidating for
the new volunteer assigned to his row. My favorite girl wouldn't
be my last and I was okay with that. This big guy was made
up of the same goodness my girl was, and he deserved my last
few moments there just as much as she...maybe even more so.
On
my way out, I checked on the three new arrivals. Intake had
begun again but limited to specific rescue requests from pet
owners directing them to their own address. Animals still
alive needing the most critical care. "They are in very
capable hands," I thought. "Very capable hands."
That
night and for a few nights after returning to New York City,
I had a recurring dream. In it, a major storm approaches.
The volunteers evacuate all the animals to Oklahoma only to
have tornados head towards our building. I see one tornado
heading straight at us. In a hurried panic, I scoop up the
Great Dane and carry him to safety. I cover him with my body
to protect him but he doesn't like me keeping him pinned down
and gives me a low growl. I try to explain that the situation
is only temporary and that he is better off with me trapping
him than if he were out loose. Yet he still struggles to break
free. Then I awaken.
I wish I could honestly tell them that things will
get better, that their cage and this situation really is only
temporary but, in truth, I don't know what their future holds.
I
have one scratch on my left arm that is quickly healing. Part
of me hopes that it will leave a scar so I can show people
and remind them of just what happened to that pit bull covered
in ringworm who had to eat his friend to survive, the Great
Dane who lost so much weight his skin hung like drapes, Peaches
and her "sisters", the bottle fed kittens and the
chicken and the cows, the puppy learning new tricks and the
little terrier from Hope Street who died on the table only
to be brought back to life.
 Oh,
and the bunny rabbit I mentioned on Page 1? She's sitting
at my feet. Her owner was found but chose to surrender her.
A little skinny, a little scared, but otherwise settling in.
A transplant from the South trying to figure out just what
her life will be like in New York City.
Much
like someone else I know.
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