13 cats...2 dogs...2 rats...1 ferret...aquarium fish

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

this is my dream

This is a news story I came upon that I have taken to heart. It's what I would love to do in my life, what I can only hope to accomplish. So many unwanted cats around that no one is interested in because of age, illness, or disability. Ones that can not be adopted out at a shelter, or they wouldn't be simply because people would not be interested in a cat like that.

People spend so much time looking for "perfection" that they lose the sight and the desire to save a life. Everything and everyone in the world deserves the chance to live a happy life, even those that are considered "imperfect."

I would love to open a facility like this in my local area, but the chances of doing so are slim. It takes money to open such a place. It takes a physical location (facility and space) to open such a place. And then it would take constant financial support to keep the facility going. I am working 2 jobs as it is just to keep the life that I have. So the chances of this ever happening for me are slim.

But its a dream I hold onto.

~Jason

Tabby’s Place: Where Unwanted Cats are Most Loved
By Joey Wahler
April 23, 2008
RINGOES, N.J. -- It’s where cats’ apparently hopeless endings on death row become hopeful futures in a feline paradise.

At Tabby’s Place, 99-percent of the cats are rescued from being put to sleep at other shelters. The facility provides a rare combination of adoption center, medical facility and Hospice for terminal cats, all manned by volunteers.

“We certainly have, for the most part, the most unwanted cats,” said Jonathan Rosenberg, founder of Tabby’s Place. “In the sense that they were pretty much all on the euthanasia list at shelters. Which is about as hopeless as it gets.”

In its five years of existence, Tabby’s Place has adopted about 450 cats, many aging, sick, diseased or handicapped. Those unclaimed live full, happy lives here, despite their shortcomings. We met a very spry 19-year-old, named Hillary, who jumped from an office desk to the floor and back, more closely resembling a far younger cat.

A cutie named Bellis, born with non-functional eyes, was nonetheless cuddling with a volunteer. No cats are more unwanted, yet none are more loved than at Tabby’s Place. The facility is spacious, immaculate, and cat-friendly throughout.

“When you come in and look, everything looks really nice,” Rosenberg said during our recent tour. “You see almost all the cats, there’s nothing hidden or nasty. And where the cats live, a lot of specialized materials and ventilation, to minimize diseases and smells.

“I mean, if you go back in those rooms, they almost never smell despite being filled with cats.”
If this sounds like a special cat shelter, well it is -- sort of. Actually, though, it’s called a cat sanctuary.

“Well, the purpose of calling it a sanctuary is that we figured this is a place of refuge for cats,” Rosenberg said. “So we don’t turn cats away due to age, or almost any disease. And if a cat doesn’t get adopted, they can spend their life here.”

Tabby’s Place is a cat palace. Rather than cages, suites are the norm, viewable through glass in the lobby. Instead of mere index cards listing each cats’ name, as at most shelters, cards with color photos of each cat identify those in a particular suite.

The suites have plenty of cat furniture for lounging, featuring high points for climbing, cubby holes for hiding, and blankets for warming.

A long hallway has a line of suites on one side and a row of corresponding, enclosed outdoor patios across the hall, one patio across from each suite. Cats can go back and forth at their discretion, traveling through a tube that extends across the top of the hallway, connecting each suite to its patio.

“The tubes are clear, so we can see what’s going on in them,” Rosenberg said, as a cat lounged inside one such tube, preferring to be neither indoors nor out, but somewhere in between. “And they also have an access door because some cats like to hide in there, especially come pill time,” Rosenberg joked.

During our visit, several cats were relaxing outdoors, enjoying a sunny, mild day on the patios. Among them was Dusty, whose gray fur was largely shaven off when his cancer recently returned.

The patios are enclosed by transparent Plexiglass, providing cats both security and a scenic view of a spacious rear yard, part of which houses a cat cemetery.

Rosenberg and his wife, Sharon, founded this facility with their own money, honoring their late cat, Tabby. He died of cancer at age 15 in 1999. Grants have since helped, but now most funding here comes from donations.

Tabby’s death caused Rosenberg to examine his life and priorities, he says. He pictured himself on his death bed, imagining what he’d want to do in life that he hadn’t already.

“I thought, you know, if I don’t do something for unwanted cats, I would really feel sorry lying there on my deathbed,” he said. “So I did this in Tabby’s honor.”

Tabby’s Place is typically maxed out at 100 cats. As Rosenberg moves from room to room, he calls out the names of various cats, amazingly appearing to know each one’s name off-hand.

The only cats not accepted here are those that are FIV positive, have feline leukemia, or are uncontrollably aggressive. Some take medication to control their behavior, such as one that’s on -- believe it or not -- Proxac.

An expansion is planned, including a new building. That’s further proof that Tabby’s Place is doing its job of honoring its namesake.

“Someone said they could picture Tabby up in heaven, looking down, saying, ‘That’s my people. I’m proud of them,’ ” Rosenberg said. “And I can see that.”
(story courtesy http://zootoo.com/)
(Visit Tabby's Place online at http://tabbysplace.org/)

Sunday, April 13, 2008

want a reason to adopt an animal?

You make a friend for life by saving a life.

Saturday, April 12, 2008

poll pondering

last week's question: "what pets do you have (or wish you could have)?"
results:
"dog" - 1 vote

my thoughts:
I've had nearly all the pets that were listed. I would love someday to have a dog again, however it would depend on 2 factors: living someplace where having a dog would be allowed, and it would have to get along with the cats I already have. Because I am not about to trade away any of the cats just to get a dog; the cats are family and they're staying.

Would I ever get another cat? Unless I move to a place that is much larger and it was a cat that would get along well with the five I have already, I think I'll stay with the ones I have. One thing I am not is someone who is one of those crazy pet people who takes in more than they can handle.

I have had rabbits before, as told in my entries about my sad experience last fall giving them up. I would be interested in having a rabbit again someday, but as with the scenario of getting a dog...it'll have to wait until I move to a larger apartment or a house where I'd have the room.

I still have a gerbil that I've had for about 2 years. Which is about as long as some of the longest that I have ever had hamsters before. Aside from Whiskers (the original) that I got when I was just a tiny kid, my next pet that was "mine" were a pair of siberian dwarf hamsters that a ex-girlfriend got for me back in 1998. Since then I've had countless hamsters at various times. They don't always live long as some have only lived with me a few days or a few weeks before they've gotten sick and passed away, while others have lived a full year or two or more. Hamsters are cute and cuddly and were always fun to have. This gerbil that I currently have is my first experience with one of those. It's sad that I can't really ever hold him because he WILL bite my finger. And he has drawn blood before doing it. So if I ever looked at getting another one in the future, I'd hope to get one that wouldn't be apt to bite. Or at least hope it wouldn't.

I would gladly get another fish or more fish again. Living downstate a few years back I had DOZENS upon DOZENS of tiny tropical fish at once, which led to my purchasing of a 55-gallon aquarium tank setup. Which I still have, it's just in storage. Since Goldie died a few weeks ago, whom I've had for about 7 or 8 years, I've been interested in getting more fish or another fish or something. Only problem is, the area I live in has no pet stores. Only "pet supply aisles" in local retailers. Thus I'd have to travel back downstate to actual pet stores when I am ready to have a tank setup again. Just not sure if I'd go for another goldfish, back to tropical fish, saltwater fish, or something else. I'd even consider a beta fish that look so pretty, but I've not had good luck with those in the past.

Hopefully I will come up with a new poll question sometime later today and get it posted up. Thank you to the one person who bothered to vote on the recent poll question!

Friday, April 11, 2008

support the ASPCA and fight animal cruelty

American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals - learn more from the ASPCA on how to fight and prevent animal cruelty.

PetFinder.org - search for a wonderful pet to adopt.

Pet-Abuse.com - resource of current and ongoing reports of animal cruelty.

Monday, April 7, 2008

remembering Sandy the dog

From people who know me and people who have read my blogs, many would think that I am a cat-only person or that I am somehow anti-dog. Which is definitely not the case, and I will explain why.

Growing up when I was about 2 years old, me and my older sister (by about 1-1/2 years) each got a kitten. My sister named her little grey tiger Daisey and I named my orange tiger Whiskers. Over the next few years my cat later became sick and had to be put to sleep. So we were left with Daisey as the family cat. As we got older, someone living over near to where my grandparents' farm was in the next town over was looking to give a dog away. It was something that we decided could fit into the family scenario, so we got the black lab. While me, my sister, mom and dad were all happy to have her, Daisey the family cat was not as much willing to share in this creature's presence. Thus she resorted to spending as little time as possible where we were living, and began to take up residence across the road at the neighbor's house. Luckily they were friends of the family, and their daughter was actually best friends with my sister.

While the black lab was otherwise a terrific dog to have and me and my sister really enjoyed having her, she was a lot to handle. Breaking loose from her tie and leash outside and wandering around off the property. It soon got to the point where we didn't feel that she was going to be a dog that we could handle and take care of. One day my dad got up and took the dog away and came back empty handed. Me and my sister didn't quite understand this and became very upset. It wasn't until we grew older that we began to understand why our parents had to give her up and that my dad actually took her to a married couple that lived in the area. Much to my surprise it was going to live with a young woman who was a classmate of mine - and someone that I had a big crush on through most of our K-12 education years. So I knew she (the dog) would be in good hands. And I was able to hear further stories of what a terrific dog she was, including driving by their place on my way out to the other town. As a side note, Daisey returned home when she realized that that big black dog was no longer living with us and she felt safe to be around.

Family circumstances changed when my parents became divorced, and me and my sister remained living with our mom while dad moved out to live in town. As a present for me and my sister, he got us a puppy. Unfortunately because it was not something that could live with us at our mom's, the dog was going to live with dad and we could see it whenever we visited and spent time with dad.

Sandy was a golden retriever and was a terrific dog. I still remember when Sandy was just a little tiny puppy that dad had a box that was made into a bed for her, and as she got older and grew it was funny to look at this little tiny box that she used to fit in as a puppy. Further family changes were made when my mom remarried, and we moved from where we had been living to a different town nearby. After a bit of preparation, dad built a small house for himself where we had been living (as mom, the stepdad, me and my sister moved with the trailer that we had been living in). As it was, the lot of land was part of the family farm that my dad and grandfather were involved in, so my grandparents were less than a quarter mile down the road in the farm house.

Sandy was technically me and my sister's dog, and while she was living with dad, she spent most of her time down the road at our grandparents. Dad would be off to work, so Sandy would spend time down where the grandparents were home most of the day as they didn't work. I would get to see her whenever I was out there to visit my grandparents and dad. And also to watch my grandparents' satellite TV that my dad got for them when my grandfather became ill with cancer.

One night I was out to their house watching wrestling on television and eating a pizza. I really, really did love Sandy, and I tried to get her to understand the idea of not begging for food when people were eating. So as I was eating my pizza, she kept hanging around me as I sat on the couch wanting a handout. I will foreever regret the moment that I was becoming frusted that I turned to her sitting there and almost yelled at her to go away as I was eating, and to go lay out on the porch area where her nighttime sleeping place was. She tucked her tail under her and wandered out to the porch. For the rest of the night while I watched wrestling it was in silence. As I got ready to leave and drive back home, I walked out on the porch and looked over at Sandy. She laid down and only looked up with her eyes at me. Because this all took place several years ago - circa 1995 or 1996 - I can't remember many of the details as it was one of those tragic moments that happen in a person's life that you end up trying to push out of your mind and forget. I may have went over and patted Sandy's head, or I may not have. I may have just stood there before walking out, or I may have said something like "Sorry for yelling" or "you just gotta not beg, Sandy". Whether I made ammends with Sandy before I left for yelling or not, I can not remember to this day. What happened afterward is what has remained in my mind since then and will for the rest of my life.

It may not have been the next day, but it happened at least before the next day that I was going to go out to the farm to visit the grandparents, visit dad, watch tv and/or play with Sandy. I was at home where me and my sister were still living with mom and the step-dad. Dad called one day when I was home alone and gave me terrible news. He wasn't home, but the grandparents were. Sandy must have been walking between dad's house and the grandparents' farmhouse and she wasn't being too careful about walking along side the road. A car came along and Sandy got in the way and...... From what my dad said, the lady stopped by and asked if the dog belonged to my grandparents. From what he said, the lady gave no indication of sympathy or concern for having stuck and hit the dog. She was concerned about who was going to take care of the dent in her car.

I was terribly saddened by the news of what happened to Sandy, and was incensed and struck by the blatant lack of respect and compassion from this lady who had struck and killed our dog with her car. And she was concerned about getting her car fixed????

I know that she did and someone else might suggest why wasn't Sandy tied up to begin with. Living in the city, in town, there are logical rules for having a dog that is outside tied up so it doesn't run away, get into traffic, or get into your neighbor's yard. Even just on the outskirts going out of town, that still makes sense because there is a lot of traffic entering and leaving the city. But until you live out in the country - and I do mean out in the country - you learn that many of the rules and laws that exist are bent and not always followed. If I lived in town where the population is crowded, sure the dog would have been tied up or kept inside. But living out in the country where there are few cars far and between, and at some points no neighbors or houses for miles, then it's just a way of life for people to do things the way they do. So the argument about having the dog tied up is beyond acknowledgement or even consideration.

When my sister returned home that day, I had the sad duty of telling her what happened. I had only gotten as far as to say that dad called..... Sandy was out in the road.... a car came along, and .... before I could say any more, she could tell by the tears coming down my face what the bottom line was and she broke down.

For the next week or so I went out and visited the spot were dad had burried her. It's been nearly 12 or 13 years, but I still think of Sandy in the same way. I know that I could not have taken back the incident of the car hitting her and killing her instantly. There is no way that I could have known that it was going to happen, and no one could have predicted it. But what has haunted me since then is the way things were left. The very last time that I ever saw Sandy it involved me yelling at her for begging for a piece of my piece of pizza. The last time that as it turned out I would have seen her it was watching her walk off feeling ashamed that her owner yelled at her and then laying down on her blanket feeling like she wasn't a good dog.

It can be the way that life was meant to go. But if I could go back in time, I would have at the least not yelled at her and made sure to have left that night on a better note.

The whole thing has helped me try to become the pet owner that I am today. Things can happen day to day, and can change in an instant. I could leave and come home and one of my pets could have died while I was away. This is something that can happen to anyone at any time for any reason.

I'll admit it: my cats can annoy me quite often. They get into things they shouldn't, they knock over stuff and they break stuff. Track litter across the floor, beg for my food when I eat, and they pester me until I fill up their dishes with their own food when they become empty. Sometimes I may find myself asking them "what are you thinking?!?" or "hey ____, don't be such an ass!" when one cat may be picking on or fighting with one of the other cats. The idea of Sandy and how things were left have forever been implanted in my mind and in my heart. My cats may do things to upset me or bother me, but I don't leave things like that. Ever. If I am leaving to go somewhere, before bedtime at night, or even simply if I am not leaving or going to bed, I will quickly make ammends by picking up the cat, cuddling with it, holding it, and go crazy giving it kisses and dancing around until the cat itself wants to be put down.

My cats themselves may think that I get angry at them at times when they do crazy things and that sometimes that I get really upset with them. But I never want them to be left with that impression and even if I discipline them, I try to leave them with the idea that they are still good cats and that I love them dearly.

Because you never know what can happen. When something can be taken away from you in an instant without warning. Something you love dearly can be taken away from you and it could be life's plan on how it is meant to go. Thus it turns into the idea of how you want things to be remembered and how they are left.

Yelling at Sandy the last time that I saw her has forever and will forever haunt me. But it's helping me to become a better pet owner that I am today.

RIP Sandy.

Friday, April 4, 2008

poll pondering

Question: "Do you support my decision to move non pet blog posts to a private blog?"
Results:
"Yes": 1 vote (33%)
"No": 2 votes (66%)

Nearly 2 weeks has passed after some very interesting circumstances and incidents, as well as one very controversial blog.

On many different levels you learn a lot about life. Not only about yourself, but just whom is a friend, whom is an enemy. Whom you can trust, and whom you can't.

I've been accused of writing a poor blog. I've been accused of writing about only 2 things - pets and work - and that my life should involve more than that. I've been accused of just plain being an uninteresting and unexciting person.

My responses?
  • I have been told before that my writing has been funny, insightful and entertaining.
  • I have blogged about other things in the world other than pets and work as my life does consist of more than just those two features.
  • If I am such an uninteresting and boring individual, why is it that my blog has been a destination for those who are: non-friends who don't even have an interest in being friendly to me in person, and don't even have the decency to say hello and acknowledge my presence should they walk by me at a movie theater lobby while going to see a movie like "Harry Potter".

So after pondering the grand total of 3 votes that were cast, I have come to 2 conclusions:
  1. I can be happy that I have one person out there who is understanding enough and is enough of a friend to show support in taking time to vote 'yes'.
  2. I can be amused that there are at least 2 people out there with nothing better to do than to flame for the sake of flaming.

Thanks for voting! And keep on reading more .... Tales from the Cats! Meow!