Dogs

Dogs are angels in disguise.  ADOPT, don’t shop.  FOSTER.  VOLUNTEER. DONATE to an animal shelter or rescue.

PUPPIES!

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I got a text from Kelly the other day, asking if I could photograph some puppies and their mom. Um, yes! Of course, I said yes.

It was a good day for puppies. Some days just have a drib-drab about them, and I’ve been having a spell of those days lately. But when these five five-week old puppies showed up on my doorstep for their photo shoot, the melancholy scampered away.

Family portrait of five 5-week old puppies
Family portrait of five puppies. Left to right: Paprika, Safflower, Dill, Rue, and Juniper.

 

Puppies!

Mama dog, Canela, had been rounded up by an animal control officer. The little chihuahua-dachshund-terrier (?) mix was close to her due date, and a call had been made to One More Dog Rescue to help. Canela ended up with a foster mom who doubled as midwife, helping her deliver six beautiful puppies a couple of days later. Two days later, Ash died–he had been the smallest and the only black puppy in the brood. The remaining five caramel and vanilla colored pups are Paprika and Safflower (girls) and Dill, Juniper, and Rue boys. By the looks of the babes, dad had a good helping of Cocker Spaniel in him. They are five-and-a half-weeks old now, and starting to come into their personalities. When they aren’t sleeping, they are chasing mom Canela for milk. Canela kept good watch on her puppies, but she was also ready to play like a puppy herself. All of these sweeties will be up for adoption soon on the One More Dog Rescue site.

Canela chihuahua dachshund terrier dog with big eyes.
Mama dog Canela with the big eyes is ready to be done with nursing puppies. She’s good at counting the puppies, and her toys.
Canela chihuahua terrier dachshund mix
Canela is waiting for a treat, and keeps taking a watchful glance at her sleeping babies.

 

And…here are the puppies!

Paprika sitting puppy dog 5-weeks old
Paprika. This brave little girl was the first to sit for her portrait.
Paprika laying down puppy dog 5-weeks old
By frame five, Paprika was bored by the camera, and ready for her nap.
Safflower 5-week old puppy dog stretches her legs
Safflower stretches her legs.
Safflower smiles 5-week old puppy dog
Safflower smiles for the camera.
Dill 5-week old puppy standing
Dill was the only one I heard growl…and only when Rue kept stepping on him.
Dill 5-week old puppy dog
Dill poses for his portrait.
Juniper 5-week old sleepy puppy dog
Juniper wonders why we woke him up.
Juniper 5-week old puppy dog
Juniper. Still wondering about his nap time.
Rue 5-week old puppy dog standing wagging
Rue the charmer was finally awake, and ready to rumble.
Rue 5-week old puppy dog
Rue was the only one who played…with some dramatic pawing that offset his balance.

 

If you are a dog lover, please ADOPT from, FOSTER for, VOLUNTEER with, or DONATE to a rescue group. Ditto for cat lovers. Support Spay/Neuter programs in your city. And please, take great care of all animals.

Links, to read more about:  Dog Rescuers, Fostering a puppy, Hospice fostering.

back pack with puppies
Now that’s my kind of back pack…full of puppies!

Thanks for looking. If you’re interested in pet portraits in time for the holidays, let me know!

If you’re looking for holiday gifts, please take a look at my Etsy site. 

Fostering the puppy, Tig

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A few weeks ago, one of the rescue groups I photograph for texted me: “Carol! We have another puppers…PALEEEEEEEEZ…”

And of course, there was a photo.

I looked at the scared little pup behind bars.

“Honey, can we keep this little one for a week or so,” I asked my husband, out of courtesy.

The next day, a skinny puppy greeted me at my front door when the doorbell rang. Tig marched in to the house, dancing around and stumbling in that awkward puppy way. We marveled at her cement and peat moss colors, her blue-green eyes, her rat tail with the dark grey tip.

She had been dropped off at the shelter a day before because she had diarrhea. Maybe she’d only been gone from her mother and siblings a week? a month? No one will ever know. That part of her story will be her secret. But she didn’t seem to have eaten a good meal in a while. We picked her up–all of 4 or 5 pounds maybe. A sack of squirming bones. We put down food immediately. And she inhaled it.

Tig eating her first meal with us
Tig eating her first meal with us.

The rescuers left a bit later–and Tig stared at us with a “Now what?” look. We took her out for a tinkle. “Good puppy!” we over-the-top exclaimed and brought her back in. Five minutes later, there was a puddle in the kitchen and a pile in the living room. Teaching a puppy to do business outside is never easy. It takes time and there will be accidents. We were determined and she looked capable, so no worries. We’d work with her for the next 10 days.

TIg sitting with me while I work
TIg sitting with me while I work.

And what a 10 days…everything was all about baby Tig. Feeding her little meals 4 times a day to fatten her up. Cooking rice to mix into her food and hopefully put a stop to the diarrhea. Taking her out every 2 hours during the day, and every 3-4 hours overnight. Waking her up to “Good morning Puppy!” and watching her do her yoga stretches before sashaying out of the crate like a princess.

We laughed at her puppy-ness. At the funny way she ran and lost control on the corners. At the way she couldn’t figure out things like the doorbell, dogs barking on TV, or where we went when we stepped out of the chase and stood between furniture. We laughed when she chased us around-and-around the house, growling like a little lawnmower, and suddenly stopped and dropped on her bed for a nap. She couldn’t do stairs–up or down. We carried her. She figured out “up” later in the week, but down was still a problem for her after 10 days.

TIg is exasperated by the stairs.
TIg is exasperated by the stairs.
puppy looking down steps
Down is hard!

Tig was a fiesty, sassy little being. We tried avoiding her needle teeth and the tiny claws. She chewed on table legs, chair legs, people legs, shoes, toes, fingers, beds, the couch. We got her another chew toy. She added that to the repertoire–without dropping those other favorite chews. She tugged on the back of my pants. Hearing “No!” only made her bark at us and have conniptions of nipping and barking with a ridiculous high-pitched voice that only made us laugh harder. This dog was going to be a handful and a half. Timeouts happened when we picked her up. Holding her calmed her down and turned her back into sweet baby TIg again. I didn’t mind holding her–it gave me an excuse to sniff that puppy smell.

Tig taking a sudden nap.
Tig taking a sudden nap.
Tig in a time-out
Tig in my lap in a time-out.

 

For 10 days, we played, and cleaned up accidents, and fed and fed and fed little Tig. We discovered she loved to lay in the sunshine wherever it fell on the floor or sidewalk. She liked tug-of-war, she preferred to chase versus being chased, she would sit-stay-come for a treat–but only in the kitchen, and trying to coax her down the stairs usually just made her mad. She liked to bite at a stalk of lavender that hung over the sidewalk. Falling leaves had to be chased down and chewed up. She was happy, confident, and crazy and sweet–all at once. Her personality was becoming more and more clear. I felt sad that whoever was adopting her wouldn’t get to see this part of her babyhood.

TIg eats a leaf that crossed her path.
Tig eats a leaf that crossed her path.
Tig wonders about that squirrel on the fence.
Tig wonders about that squirrel on the fence.

Tig left our house to go on a cross-country transport to her East Coast fosters in preparation for adoption. She will be adopted soon–if not already. I feel lucky to have spent a precious week of puppy-dom with this little sass. It wore me out, wore me down, and ran us out of paper towels. It convinced us that we may be past our puppy-raising prime. And I just want to tell the adopters…I have Tig’s baby pictures and videos for you when you’re ready. I hope you bring each other lots of joy.

Sunning on the sidewalk
Sunning on the sidewalk.
Down the stairs is too hard. Pick. Me. Up.
Down the stairs is scary. Pick. Me. Up.
Tig matches the sidewalk.
Tig matches the sidewalk.
Good morning puppy!
Wakey wakey puppy!
What's next?
What’s next?

 

One More Dog Rescue saved Tig, and they save many more puppy dogs every week. You can read more about the rescuers here on my project page.

Please. Adopt, don’t shop. Foster. Volunteer. Donate. And hug a pup. Even if he/she is not yours.  🙂

Pretty Tig.
Pretty Tig.

Otto

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Otto was a boxer. A long-legged, calm, quiet old man. He came to stay with us on Friday, 8/17 around 3:30 p.m.

Otto had been dropped off at a Chicago shelter two weeks before. Rescuers pulled him and took him to a veterinarian for an isolation period necessary because of the presence of contagious kennel cough and dog flu in the shelter. The plan now was for Otto to stay with us for about 10 days for more healing, then move permanently into a home with other boxers where he’d live out his life. But Otto had lymphoma. And after only six days at our house, his two rescuers and I sat surrounding him at a veterinary clinic on the south side of Chicago, and brushed his thin body as he peacefully passed over to the other side.

At the moment I wrote the following, it was Thursday evening. I was back home and it was within two hours of Otto’s passing. I wanted to remember him, to honor him with stories to carry, and to mark the place in my heart where he’d eased into and curled up to stay after only six days. I sat down with a glass of wine and wrote:

 

On Friday afternoon, 8/17, an emaciated dog stepped out of Kelly and G’s car and walked up my front steps. Otto the Boxer came with a small bag of medications, several cans of dog food, and a rotisserie chicken. He stepped in to my house and walked slowly around, taking polite looks…like a human guest. 

He was coming from a clinic, where he’d been for almost two weeks to heal from kennel cough and crud picked up during his time at the shelter before being rescued. Poor old Otto didn’t do well there. He was sick. He was heartbroken. He was missing meals. He lost a lot of weight. Our goal was to feed this boy and make him comfortable so he’d eat and feel better again. 

He was silent. He never barked or whined, not even in his sleep. I heard him deep breathing–when you could see his skin pull in between his ribs. A few times I heard him trying to vomit something that never came out. I heard his feet sliding on the hardwood floors as he stood up. I heard him shake off sleep, and I heard him shake off the water whenever he walked under the sprinkler. I heard his toenails drag a little on the sidewalk when we strolled ever so slowly around the block. I heard his stomach churning, and I heard his explosive diarrhea one day. I heard him drink water, and thankfully–finally–I got to hear him EAT. But I never heard him speak.

That first day, he refused most food. Saturday, I walked him to an evening concert in the park just around the corner. He wasn’t supposed to “canoodle” with other dogs, so we stood on the sideline. I asked him if he liked jazz, if he knew what canoodling was, if he liked the smell of grass, if the sound of locust made him love summer. And he wagged his stubby tail and smiled.  

Otto followed me. Upstairs, downstairs, room to room, and even to the bathroom. He walked around the back yard with me when I fed the birds. He looked for me, watched for me. He was curious. He stood watch at the door when I set the sprinklers to water the front yard’s new sod. He looked at the back gate when the trash men were in the alley. Always silent. It made him seem strong and protective. He made me feel loved and cared for. 

Still, he didn’t really eat–just a bite here or there. We stopped his medications, maybe they were making his stomach hurt too much to eat. On Sunday morning, his rescuers came to see him with tempting foods that other sick dogs give up their hunger-strikes for. Liverwurst and cheese worked that day, but only after Judy put a little in his jowls to give him the taste. 

By Monday, he was refusing food again. Kelly and G came over with a different set of pain medications and we began giving him an appetite stimulant–3 tiny syringes of thick liquid squirted into his mouth. He never fought it, or ran away. His pills were hidden in spoonfuls of peanut butter. We started giving him all meat, it’s all he would eat. No more rice mixed in for binding his stools. He just spit rice out anyway–little grains are here, there, and everywhere.

On Tuesday morning, he started eating while on the front porch watching Bryan water the yard. I’d put a little bowl beside him filled with steaming rotisserie chicken–and he leaned over and cleaned that bowl. We always raced around when he started eating–putting more, more, more down, adding variety like hamburger, liverwurst, cheese, McDonald’s sausage patties and burgers. We’d fill dishes up until he was full or tired of the options. At the end of the day, so many bowls were dirty on the counter.

His right leg was swollen when he arrived. On Tuesday, his left leg began to look bigger. It was confirmed he had Lymphoma. G brought cancer meds for him that night.

Lymphoma acts quickly. Rapid weight loss. Otto had been rescued 8/3. Kelly showed us pictures from that day. He was a different dog. Normal looking. Not a sack of bones. He was eating now, because of the appetite stimulant. He slept more on Wednesday. Groggy from the medicines maybe. Wednesday, Bryan made him bacon…which he woke up for, and loved.  

It was a hard night Wednesday. He and I had been sleeping downstairs, closer to outdoors and the food in case he woke up hungry. He couldn’t seem to get comfortable. I woke up to hear him heaving to vomit, again without any result. Hardly drinking overnight, and in the morning, looking even more emaciated…though he was eating.

This morning, it seemed this was coming to an end. We spent a couple of hours outside. He fell asleep in the grass next to me when I was pulling weeds. He made a fast two steps towards a squirrel high on the fence, and then turned to look at me when the squirrel ran away. “Yes, Otto. I saw that.”

A couple of hours later, I sat on the floor with him. Trying to coax him with chicken. He was so sleepy, he only looked with one barely-open eye. So I sat and brushed him for a long, perfectly silent time.

As the conversations and texts started this afternoon about his continued weight loss, possible suffering, diminishing quality of life, and dignity, he woke up and came to sit beside me. Arrangements were made for tonight. I cried. I brushed him again, his head turning into the brush at his neck. He stepped away, and stood for a moment, before walking over to a squeaky toy–and pawing it. The only time he’d seemed interested in play. My heart lifted so hard. He didn’t play, though he did tilt his head when I made the toy squeak and patted it on the floor around his feet. I helped him get on the couch when he asked. But he crawled down when I went to another room to get the camera. 

Such a sweet old soul. He followed me around. He looked for me. He adopted me. He stood with me when I made him more bacon this afternoon. As soon as it was ready, he ate some chicken and six pieces of bacon. He refused the seventh piece. He followed me around the house as I got my shoes on and locked up. And then G came. It was six days–to the hour–since Otto had arrived here in our home. Otto and I sat in the backseat, he staring out the open window, and every so often, glancing around at me with a smile.

And so it was that I went with him to the vet tonight, toting the rest of his bacon and a brush for those final moments. I brushed him to sleep, and then they administered the drugs that took him away. At 6:44 p.m., I texted Bryan at work. “He’s gone.”

Now I’m having a glass of wine in honor of Otto. Just like we’ve done for all of our dogs at their passing. A cork with his name on it will go into the bowl and a photo will go on the heaven shelf in my closet. After only six days, he was mine–or I was his. 

Tonight, the vet had said he couldn’t even hear Otto’s heart because of the fluids built up. I never heard his voice, but I did hear his heart. Now, I’m listening to a deafening silence. No tags jingling, or feet sliding or bony hips plopping onto hardwood floors, no heavy breathing, no lapping water. No dog follows me to the bathroom, or relocates to sit near me when I move across the room. 

Before we left our house tonight, I talked to him about how many people loved him. Otto was surrounded by new friends tonight–people he didn’t even know 20 days ago. But people who cared enough to be with him until the very end. I think he understood.  

Otto's last photo - boxer dog
My last photo of Otto. Thursday, 8/23/18, 6:20 p.m.

 

Those of you who know me, know that I believe with all my heart that dogs are angels. Until we all meet again, please watch over us my pups.

Please visit One More Dog Rescue to learn more, to foster (if you are in the Chicagoland area or in Connecticut), or to make a donation to help other dogs in need. Thank you.

boxer Otto on the day he came to stay with us
Otto in the evening of the day he came to stay with us, Friday, 8/17/18.
Otto hears jets, boxer dog looking up
Otto hears jets, the Saturday of the Chicago Air and Water Show. 8/18/18.
Otto at the concert in the park
Otto at the concert in the park on Saturday. 8/18/18.
Otto watching the sprinklers from the porch
Otto watching the sprinklers from the porch, on Sunday 8/19/18.
Otto telling me about the squirrels on the deck
Otto telling me about the squirrels on the deck, Sunday, 8/19/18
Otto on Monday, sleeping by Bryan
Otto on Monday 8/20/18, sleeping by Bryan.
Tuesday morning. Otto in the kitchen while his food heats up.
Tuesday morning, 8/21/18. Otto in the kitchen while his food heats up.
Tuesday morning, Otto with an appetizer on the porch. Waiting for the appetite stimulants to kick in.
Tuesday morning, 8/21/18. Otto with an appetizer on the porch. Waiting for the appetite stimulants to kick in.
Otto getting a back rub from Bryan on Tuesday.
Otto enjoying a back rub from Bryan on Tuesday, 8/21/18.
Close-up of Otto getting a back rub from Bryan on Tuesday.
Close-up of Otto getting a back rub from Bryan on Tuesday 8/21/18.
Otto's profile in the kitchen
Otto’s profile. Just look at those Boxer jowls! 🙂
Tuesday, Otto watches while I work
Tuesday 8/21/18, Otto watches while I work.
Otto snoozing on Tuesday afternoon.
Otto snoozing on Tuesday afternoon, 8/21/18.
Wednesday, Otto in the backyard.
Wednesday, 8/22/18. Otto in the backyard.
Thursday morning, Otto fell asleep in the grass.
Thursday morning, 8/23/18. Otto falling asleep in the grass.
Otto surveying the yard on Thursday.
Otto surveying the yard on Thursday 8/23/18 after staring down a squirrel.
Thursday evening. Otto with his two rescuers, Judy and Kelly.
Thursday evening, 8/23/18. Otto with his two rescuers, Judy and Kelly.

Cuba’s dogs and cats, and TAP Animal Project

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Arriving in Cuba

When the cloud cleared, we were already low over the green and red earth of Cuba. The plane tilted left into a turn that positioned us to land in Havana’s Jose Martí airport in about three minutes. I could see that the streets were wet, rain drops now skittered across the plane window. Like a dream window to the past, I could see a few of those old cars moving down a road in the distance, and as we neared our landing, I saw two dogs drinking from a puddle on a dirt road. It’s been three years since I last visited Cuba. Many things have changed, and many have not.

dog-havana-cuba-street-TAP animal project-TAP-animal-project
A dog wanders down a street in Centro Habana, Cuba.

When I last saw Cuba

When I last saw Cuba, I was not part of The Aniplant Project (TAP), a non-profit dedicated to helping the animals of Cuba. I had yet to publish the photo essay and article that TAP’s Les and Charlene Inglis read, that gave them the idea to contact me to join them. The last time I visited Cuba, Fidel was alive, Raul was President, and Obama had not yet visited. The place had been mobbed with USA visitors after Obama’s trip, and now, not as many. The last time I walked in Havana in March 2015, veterinary clinics were open. Many pets were receiving at least basic care, and were being spayed/neutered and vaccinated in proper clinics.

cat-havana-cuba-street-TAP-animal-project-Aniplant-TAP Animal Project
A cat waits her turn for spaying in Havana Cuba

Fast forward to 2018

Since 2015, some big things have changed. But let’s skip the politics and talk about the ugly change that impacted the animals.

Veterinary clinics across Havana were closed in Spring 2017. Some people say it was because of improper medical waste disposal, others say it was because medicines were disappearing from people hospitals. Regardless of the reason, it has had a negative impact on the health of animals. Keep in mind, there are still no animal shelters in Cuba.

Animals are turned out to the streets when people can’t or won’t care for them. Street cat populations have swelled. Every corner in Havana that has a trash dumpster will also have at least 2-3 cats and maybe a litter of kittens living there. More visitors to Cuba are writing us to report the sad, sick state of the animals on the streets, more tourists have seen the cruel treatment of animals in Santeria rituals, and Zoonosis round-ups. Without veterinary clinics, fewer animals have been sterilized, vaccinated, and treated for fleas/ticks, mange, or parasites. And as a result of fewer sterilizations in the last year, more animals are going hungry and suffering on the streets. It is overwhelming to see.

Cuba is working on reopening veterinary clinics in Havana. It is taking a lot of time, and paperwork. It is frustrating for many and requires patience from all.

On-going care for the animals

Despite the setbacks, Aniplant continues to do sterilization campaigns around Havana. While the clinic was closed like all the others (and because ~20 dogs are sheltered there), it does not prevent Aniplant from going into neighborhoods to spay/neuter pets and area strays. Sterilization work continues because of Nora Garcia, President of Aniplant and because of the resources supplied by TAP Animal Project (formerly The Aniplant Project).

TAP Animal Project believes that the number one way to end the suffering of animals on the streets is through mass sterilization campaigns. Why? Consider this:

  • Female cats can breed three times a year, and have on average 4 kittens per litter. That’s another 12 cats in just one year from just one cat. Multiply that by the kittens having babies who have babies, etc…and in just seven years, that’s more than 400,000 new cats. Where will they go?
  • Maybe you are a dog person? Female dogs can breed twice a year and have 6-10 puppies per litter. In seven years, that’s about 97,000 new dogs. Where will they go?

Without sterilization campaigns, the population of animals will multiply and multiply and multiply, ad nauseam. More and more innocent dogs and cats will be left to fend for themselves and to suffer harsh lives and cruel deaths. The best long-term solution is spay/neuter, and Cuba needs more of it.

TAP-Aniplant-abuela-kittens-sterilization-cuba-TAP animal project
A TAP Animal Project + Aniplant sterilization campaign for 12 cats on May 26. The blind 92-year-old grandma slept with kittens on her feet.

TAP Animal Project supports ANIPLANT’s spay/neuter mission

TAP recently changed names in order to expand sterilization campaigns beyond Aniplant. The Aniplant Project became TAP Animal Project in May 2018, and continues to be a 501(c)(3) non-profit, incorporated in Florida, and operating from Chicago. TAP believes that with supporters’ continued help, there is capacity to do more mass sterilizations in Cuba. It’s not going to be easy. There are many regulations around the importation of anesthesia and who in Cuba can receive it. There are issues of facilities, of veterinarians, of certifications, and of access to other needs like TNR traps, transportation, antibiotics, etc. It’s Cuba. It’s complicated. Change is rarely easy. But for healthy pets, healthy people, and the happiness of our animal-loving souls, it’s worth it.

To learn more about TAP, please visit www.TAPanimalproject.org.

spay-cat-kittens-cubs-havana-TAP-sterilization-aniplant-tap animal project
A veterinarian spays a cat in a TAP Animal Project + Aniplant small house campaign while other cats and kittens watch and wait.
Aniplant-TAP-Nora-Garcia-puppy-dog-cuba-havana-TAP Animal Project
Nora Garcia cuddles a happy puppy who is temporarily staying at Aniplant in Havana Cuba
dog-one-eyed-TAP Animal Project-Havana-Cuba
This skittish, one-eyed dog lives in the stairwell of an apartment building near the Malecón in Havana Cuba.
cat-kitten-havana-cuba-animal-TAP animal project-sterilization
This little kitten wandered up alone in the streets of old Havana. Skin and bones, timid and hungry.

Thank you for reading

Carol Fletcher is a traveling, dog-loving, coffee-addicted, tree-hugging, Nashville born-and-raised photographer living in Chicago. To see more photo essays and projects, please visit www.carolfletcher.com. Select Cuba photos are available for purchase on Etsy.

 

The old soul of Lefkes

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I can’t stop thinking about the little village of Lefkes, and the old dog who found us there. Even now, I check the weather for the village two or three times a day, wondering where the old dog is and how she’s faring in the rain, the sun, the cold nights. Has she eaten? Does she have water? Is she comfortable?

Lefkes, Paros

The village is on the Greek Island of Paros. It’s a traditional place with bright whitewashed buildings, Aegean blue shutters and doors, and narrow lanes that could be public paths or private spaces. There is an organic feel to the architecture here–like the old buildings have germinated from the hillside, squeezing in next to each other, into any empty spits of land. No two are the same shape. The village is a warren of stone paths climbing up and winding down the hillside, each lane hugged tight by these cottages. Stairs and doorsteps rise off of the lanes, varying in width from top to bottom, making wise use of their space. Trees and vines rise up out of tiny bits of open ground.

Lefkes-Paros-House-Vines-Lanes
A house squeezed into the space between lanes, with a vine squeezed into a tiny spot of ground.

 

An Old Soul Finds Us

We arrived by bus one morning. It was pre-tourist season, on a less-traveled-to island, in a village that doesn’t get many tourists anyway. Quiet, but for the buzzing of bees and the wind in the lanes. Fresh with the scent of orange blossoms, wisteria, and the crisp air of a cool spring morning.

Lane up to the Church in Lefkes.
Lane up to the Church in Lefkes.

 

After admiring a peaceful cemetery that carried down the hill behind the Church of Agia Triada, I returned to the front courtyard to see that a dog had found Bryan.

She appeared ancient–black and bony, with a proud, gray face and hunchbacked hips. She allowed us to pet her, and then started walking away down the lane, stopping to look back at us with an expression that asked, “aren’t you coming?”. We followed.

Lefkes dog follow me
“Aren’t you coming?”
old-dog-lefkes-paros
Bryan walking with the old dog in Lefkes.
Old dog lefkes flowers path
The old soul walked on without us.

 

Walking through Lefkes

She teetered a bit when she walked, maybe from arthritis or from some ailment that made her shaky and restless. When I stopped to take a photograph, she came back for me. We stopped at a tavern, thinking to buy her some food. The dog watched for a minute, then lurched on without us. I saw a woman make a nasty face and go out of her way in the narrow lane to avoid even brushing against the old dog. Though the tavern door was open, the shop was not serving any food. As Bryan sorted that out, I went to catch up with the dog, and to see if there were any restaurants up ahead. But the dog was gone. Not a trace.

Bells rang. Elderly people stepped out of their little houses, arm-in-arm, heading to a little church in a little lane. I returned to the tavern for Bryan. We sat there, sipping a Fanta and a Coke and talking about that old dog…her pitiful condition and the flagrant contempt we’d witnessed for the old soul. What’s wrong with people? Where’s the empathy for the old, the sick? It tainted the beauty of the place. And I felt sick that we’d given the dog nothing to eat. She was a bag of crippled bones, and we had done nothing to help.

Feeding the Soul

But within the hour, we saw the dog again, up a lane near the center of the village. Bryan ran into a shop and bought what he could find–which was a bag of pizza-flavored bagel bites. I called to the dog and she wobbled towards me. The rattle of the bagel-bites bag got her undivided attention. At first, I worried she might not have the teeth to chew them. But chew she did–crunching one after another. Two mousy cats crept a little closer on the wall where we sat, and called out to us. Of course, we fed them too. Within minutes, the bag was empty and three sets of eyes stared at us, at the bag, at our hands. The dog licked the stones for crumbs. The cats meowed and sniffed around their feet.

Bryan went down the lane to an open shop. He came back a few minutes later with a bread-plate-sized hot pepperoni pie. We tore off small, very hot bites, blew on them, and fed the old dog and the two cats, right there in the middle of Lefkes. They were gentle eaters, and patient. A few passing townspeople looked, but said nothing. We all had to flatten ourselves to the wall several times to avoid the cars on that narrow lane.

After the pie was gone, the cats retreated and the dog stared at us for a long few minutes. I offered her water. She drank from the lip of the bottle as water poured into my palm. And then she walked away, turning again to ask “aren’t you coming?”

Saying Goodbye

We walked with her to the end of town, to a place near our bus stop. I worried that she was too near the busy road, too far from where she’d found us. Could she get back to her safe place? I tried to get her to follow me down the pedestrian lanes back to the church. She turned and walked away, in the direction back to the center, where there were cars. Nothing I did got her attention, and she disappeared down the lane. I cried. Bryan said, “She knows these roads. She’s lived a long time here without you watching out for her. She’ll be ok.”

Bus stop Lefkes Paros Greece
Bus stop at Lefkes on Paros
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Crooked marble door frames and steps in the old lanes of Lefkes.

Since we had a little time before our bus, I wandered again through the town looking again for her. And, somehow I found myself back at the church. And guess who was laying in the courtyard?

There she was–alone in the sun, washing her feet. She looked comfortable, content. I did not want to disturb her, to have her get up in greeting or to walk me back to the busy road. So I did not enter the courtyard. I stood staring at her for a few minutes–wishing for her to have food, water, love and comfort for all the days of her life.

old dog courtyard church lefkes paros
There she was, alone in the courtyard.

 

If you go

So, if you go to Lefkes, look for this old lady. If you find her, give her my regards and feed her a pie. I’ve thought of her a thousand times. And I’m quite certain she is an angel in disguise.

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The fields around Lefkes on Paros
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Bird returning to a nest in Lefkes, Paros, Greece.
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A cat gazes down from his perch in Lefkes
earless cat lefkes paros greece
Sadly, it looks as if this poor cat’s ears have been cut off.

 

Finally, if you like this post, please leave a comment! You can also….

Dog Rescuers

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Almost 8 million dogs and cats enter U.S. shelters each year, and almost 50% of them will not come out alive. The cycle is horrific.  Dogs come in abused, neglected, heartbroken, sick, old, pure-bred–with one thing in common…they are unwanted and unloved.  It is hard on the animal-lovers who work for the shelter. It is hard on anyone who loves animals.

What many people don’t realize is that about 35% of abandoned animals are pulled out of shelters by rescue groups. Rescuers go deep into the shelters looking for adoptable dogs. They find foster homes, they provide food and vaccinations and spay/neuters. Their own homes are usually brimming with wagging tails. They sell t-shirts for medical care fundraisers. They network to find just the right family for each dog. They organize transport to move dogs all over the country, to get them to homes where they will be loved and taken care of. Their phones buzz with incoming texts, emails, messages…about the dogs they’ve saved, or about dogs that are urgently in need of a place to stay before time runs out.

Rescue groups operate all around us.  Rescuers seem to lead double lives…working full time jobs, raising families and in the background giving the rest of their time, hearts and homes to the dogs they save. It takes a great human to traverse through this bittersweet cycle. Rescuers experience extreme joy when opening a shelter cage to save a dog, only to turn around and have their hearts broken when they look into the eyes of the desperate dogs still in their kennels. And there is pain–anger–when they walk to the front of the shelter, only to see a line of people dropping off unwanted pets. It takes a hearty soul to care so deeply, to do so much, to function so effectively around “humanity” and to give so much of their lives.

This is the story of Kelly and Judy: special souls who are dog rescuers with One More Dog Rescue in this never-ending stream of unwanted and abused animals. View the photos in slideshow to see captions for each.  Start slideshow by clicking on the first photo, and then using the arrows to navigate through.

Want to help? Please…ADOPT. FOSTER. DONATE.

Dog Rescuer, Shannon Nachajko and Catahoula Rescue of New England

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Dog rescuer, Shannon Nachajko from Catahoula Rescue of New England shows what it’s like to be mom and chief rescuer to these super smart breeds of dog who are often misunderstood. Spend three minutes with Shannon and her Catahoulas and Heelers.

 

Animal Welfare in Cuba: ANIPLANT Cares for and Protects Dogs and Cats

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Introducing Aniplant and Nora

Animal welfare in Cuba is a daunting challenge. On my trip to Cuba, I had the honor of meeting Nora Garcia Pérez, the founder of ANIPLANT, an animal care and protection organization in Havana. Nora has dedicated the past 30+ years to the animals of Cuba:  from big ventures like founding Aniplant and promoting animal welfare on Cuban radio and TV, to smaller efforts like traveling around Havana in a little yellow Fiat with the passenger seat removed to make room for two street dogs who sleep in the car every night.

ANIPLANT, or Asociación Cubana para la Protección de Animales y Plantas, is located in Centro Havana, not far from the University and only steps from the beautiful Malecón sea wall. ANIPLANT seeks to eliminate the suffering of Cuban animals through sterilization campaigns to reduce the number of strays, public education to promote the need for good veterinary care and animal health, facilitation of dog/cat adoptions, and hands-on intervention in cases of animal abuse.  

Animals in Cuba

If you’re a dog lover and have ever been to Cuba–or to any third world country for that matter–you know the helpless heartache of seeing painfully thin and sick animals on the streets. And while Cuba is a highly educated, healthy and empathetic population, their lack of resources is a tremendous problem. Often, people simply do not have the means to properly care for animals. That means that many dogs/cats go without spaying/neutering, resulting in unwanted animals roaming the streets in search of food and shelter. The Cuban government collects strays from city streets, and almost all of those dogs/cats are immediately euthanized by poisoning or electrocution.

ANIPLANT’s Mission

ANIPLANT’s main mission is to reduce the number of strays by providing as many spay/neuters as possible. They performed nearly 5,000 sterilizations each year since 2012 and are currently trying to expand operations throughout Havana and all of Cuba. Like everything related to Cuba, it is complicated. While ANIPLANT is the only animal protection organization legally permitted to function in Cuba, there are ministries and permissions to deal with and there are the obstacles of getting medical supplies and donations with the U.S. embargo still in place.

ANIPLANT in Havana

The ANIPLANT location at 128 Principe is home to a few dogs. The dogs have the run of the back areas of ANIPLANT–the kitchen, a play area outside and a little room just off the courtyard. There are employees at ANIPLANT who work to train and socialize the dogs, and to prepare their meals of rice and meat. A veterinarian and vet tech are also on staff for routine procedures and emergency care. And weekly, hundreds of pounds of meat for dog food are delivered to ANIPLANT to be sold to the community for fundraising. The place is immaculate, colorful, lively and upbeat–the receptionist sings on occasion and offers tiny cups of strong coffee to those waiting patiently for services. Dog and cat owners chat with each other and hold their pets close in the tiled lobby. Potential adopters check in at reception and discuss the adoption application process. And every now and then, the dogs break into barks or whines as a visitor makes their way back through the courtyard.

Helping the Animals of Cuba

I spent several days at ANIPLANT, photographing and videotaping. As a dog lover, Nora’s work inspired me. A few months after I first published this article, the founders of TAP Animal Project asked me to join them to help the dogs and cats of Cuba. If you are moved by this story, please consider a small donation to TAP Animal Project, a USA-based non-profit supporting and supplying resources for spay/neuter campaigns in Cuba. Considering that veterinarians in Cuba make only about $250 a year, any amount of money donated will go a long way to helping the animals. For more information on how to help the animals, or to make a donation, please visit:  TAPanimalproject.org.

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The reception area of ANIPLANT, located at 128 Principe near Hospital in Centro Havana.
Veterinarian Edgar Llorente Llano, cleans dog teeth cuba aniplant tap
ANIPLANT veterinarian, Edgar Llorente Llano, cleans the teeth of a sedated Beagle in Havana, Cuba.
cat awaits surgery at Aniplant cuba tap animal project
A sedated cat awaits surgery at ANIPLANT.  Havana, Cuba.
Training dog aniplant cuba tap animal project
In the past ANIPLANT housed up to 20 dogs. These days, only a few stay at the clinic because of Cuba health codes. These dogs get training–like leash walking and basic commands–from the trainers on staff at ANIPLANT, in Havana, Cuba.
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Disposable surgical gloves are washed and dried for re-use at ANIPLANT. Medical supplies are precious and nothing is wasted.  Havana, Cuba.
Potential adopters visit Aniplant dogs cuba TAP animal project spay neuter
Guests visit Aniplant and spend time with the resident dogs.  Havana, Cuba.
Dog rests in a built-in space in Aniplant kitchen TAP animal project spay neuter cuba
ANIPLANT moved into their space in 2010 with the help of USA-based non-profit, TAP Animal Project. Renovations included building cave-like spaces for the dogs in the kitchen. Havana, Cuba.
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A man brings a Husky in to the ANIPLANT lobby for veterinary care. ANIPLANT is open 6 days a week for veterinary services, workshops, and the sale of fresh meat for animal food.  Havana, Cuba.
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This sweet face was always the first to greet me…and anyone else at ANIPLANT.  Havana, Cuba.
animal welfare cuba Dog in shopping cart Aniplant TAP
This dog had been hit by a car and was carried into ANIPLANT in a shopping cart for follow up care.  Havana, Cuba.
Cuba Aniplant Veterinarian Edgar Llorente Llano animal welfare TAP
ANIPLANT Veterinarian, Dr. Edgar Llorente Llano, checks his messages while waiting for the clinic to open in Havana Cuba.
Nora Garcia Pérez ANIPLANT Carol Fletcher TAP animal project welfare cuba
Founder of ANIPLANT, Nora Garcia Pérez (left), and Carol Fletcher following our interview.  Havana, Cuba 3/13/15.

 

Thank you for reading

Carol Fletcher is a traveling, dog-loving, coffee-addicted, tree-hugging, Nashville born-and-raised photographer living in Chicago. To see more photo essays and projects, please visit www.carolfletcher.com. Select Cuba photos are available for purchase on Etsy.

Rescued Dogs of Havana Cuba: Sheltered by Museums

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Dogs + Cuba

As many of you know, I’m a dog lover and have an on-going project documenting the work of people who rescue dogs. And I love Cuba. I love walking in Havana, photographing the elegant decay and witnessing the extraordinary changes happening there. I love meeting the people, getting to know their hopes and worries, and always admiring their persistence, creativity and resourcefulness. So this month, I decided to overlay these passions and dig a little deeper into the stories of the rescued dogs of Havana, Cuba and those sheltered by museums.

Dogs in Cuba

Street dogs are commonly seen in Havana, picking through the trash or teetering down the sidewalks. It is heartbreaking and frustrating. But in a country where food can be hard to come by for people, perhaps it is not unusual or unexpected. One thing that has surprised me is that many museums in Old Havana have taken on the role of sheltering dogs.

On my first trip to Cuba I saw a fat little dog wearing a business card and sleeping near Fototeca in Plaza Vieja. On subsequent trips, I saw more of these dogs with business cards. They were in front of other museums, Havana’s University, and wandering around the old plazas. These dogs generally looked healthier and happier. So, on this trip, I went looking for these card-carrying dogs to find out more about their lives and the people who care for them.

Aparicio wears an identification card
Dogs under the care of Cuba’s museums wear cards identifying them. The cards have the dog’s name, where he/she lives and that he/she has been sterilized. These cards are intended to protect the dogs from being picked up by Havana’s dog-catchers.

 

The Dogs of Museo de la Orfebrería

These are the five dogs of Museo de la Orfebrería (Museum of Metal/Silver Work), a quiet courtyard museum on Obispo near Plaza de Armas. They are cared for by Margarita Garcia and Odalys Valdéz, who work at the museum as guides and security. The dogs spend their days napping in the shade of the courtyard, or lazing on the sunny bricks in front of the museum. During the day, they greet visitors politely–without fanfare or dogged attention. And they keep Margarita and Odalys company during their 6 day shifts working 9 a.m. to 4 p.m. In return, Margarita and Odalys feed them and keep fresh water on hand. The dogs are sheltered in the museum– partially in the role of protecting the museum from thieves–but most definitely to save the dogs from a hard street life.

“These five? Good for them.”

After noticing a few strays outside who seemed to pace by regularly–as if looking in…one more time…for an opening, for an invitation, I asked Margarita if there were ever more than five here. “No. Only five. We cannot feed or have more. But these five? Good for them.”

I think they would agree. And good for Margarita and Odalys and all the guides who care for these precious souls.

Entrance to Havana's Museo de la Orfebrería
Margarita Garcia stands at the entrance to Havana’s Museo de la Orfebrería, where she works and cares for the museum’s five rescued dogs.
Odalys and Margarita
Odalys and Margarita stand in the doorway of the Museum while dogs sleep in the background.
Dogs in the Courtyard
The five dogs have full access to the museum’s courtyard.
Preparing the meal
In a back room of the museum, Margarita prepares a meal of rice and a few bites of chicken for the dogs.
Dinner for Five Dogs
Margarita sets out a meal of rice and a little chicken for the dogs in the courtyard of the museum.
Sleeping Dog
Canelito enjoys cat-napping in the courtyard.
Vladimir at the front door of the Museo de la Orfebrería
Vladimir’s favorite place is at the door, greeting the many tourists walking past on Obispo near Plaza de Armas.

Odalys and Dogs
Guide Odalys enjoys passing the hours with the dogs.

 

Thank you for reading

if you liked this post and would like to stay in touch, please…

Carol Fletcher is a traveling, dog-loving, coffee-addicted, tree-hugging, Nashville born-and-raised photographer living in Chicago. To see more photo essays and projects, please visit www.carolfletcher.com. Select Cuba photos are available for purchase on Etsy.

The dogs at The Heart and Soul Animal Sanctuary

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This post is all about the dogs at The Heart and Soul Animal Sanctuary.   Yeah, yeah, I know that my project is about the dog rescue organizations and the people who run them…but I find all the dogs and puppies so distracting!   All those personalities, those smiling faces, and all the wagging tails and busy feet–it’s too much for me sometimes and I only want to sit among them and play.   So, today, it is all about the dogs…and maybe a horse too.   I hope you enjoy the characters.  Hug a dog today…and everyday!

And please — Volunteer.  Donate.  Foster.  Adopt a shelter dog.

smiling dog
She barked, growled and grunted and now sits basking in our attention.
puppy dog in hay
This little one came out of the Puppy House to greet me. The next day, he had to go back to the vet. Two of his litter-mates had tested positive for distemper.
puppies heart and soul animal sanctuary
These babies are part of a litter of six at the Heart and Soul Animal Sanctuary. Two of the six were already at the hospital and the four remaining in the Puppy House weren’t feeling so good. The next day, the two at the hospital were diagnosed with distemper and these four siblings had to join the other two at the vet for treatment.
Perry old dog dementia
Perry is about 16 years old and suffers from a little dementia. He wanders the Heart and Soul Animal Sanctuary.
White horse and chihuahua
Jasmine the white horse and a little friend at the Heart and Soul Animal Sanctuary
Dogs watch chickens
Dogs watching the chickens get a carrot treat.  Many animals find sanctuary at Heart and Soul. Every species has their space and everyone is safe.
three legged dog and puppies
Ivan may only have three legs, but he’s got a ton of patience for these rambunctious lab puppies. He spent most of the late afternoon watching the puppies rough house and occasionally got into the fray.
dog horse eating
While Jasmine worked on her alfalfa dinner, the dog kept her company.
Dog food dish
One lucky dog has the kibble bowl all to himself at the Heart and Soul Animal Sanctuary
Dog on porch
This dog was skeptical of people, and watched me cautiously from the safety of the porch
Emma Tibetan Spaniel
Emma greets visitors on the porch of the Heart & Soul Animal Sanctuary’s Giant Doghouse
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At Heart and Soul Animal Sanctuary, there is a hike every day to the ridge.
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Jasper, Ivan and Daisy enjoying the New Mexico afternoon at the Heart and Soul Animal Sanctuary.
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This little personality talked and talked and talked. She gave you about 7 seconds…and if you did not acknowledge her presence…there were some sharp words 🙂
Smiling dog
This smiling lovely barked, growled and scooted under the porch rail to get our attention without leaving the porch.
dog in doghouse
Jasper hides out in the little dog house after a hike at Heart and Soul Animal Sanctuary.

Heart and Soul Animal Sanctuary / Rescue in New Mexico

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In March, I spent some time at the Heart and Soul Animal Sanctuary, a rescue located on 100+ acres outside Santa Fe, New Mexico.   Founder and Director, Natalie Owings cares for, and lives among, over 200 animals–dogs, cats, rabbits, wedding doves, horses, chickens, guinea pigs, ducks, llamas, alpacas, goats….  If any animal in the area needs a home, a meal, and some compassion, this is the place.

For the abused, neglected, sick or starving animals who have found safe haven here, this can only seem like heaven.  Many of the animals are rescued from shelters in the area.  And will stay here until adopted or transported to another state for adoption.  Some may live out their days here.

About 30 dogs have the run of the Giant Doghouse and surrounding grounds.  While they are fenced out of spaces for some of the other animals in order to keep the peace, they have ample selection of beds (inside, outside, in the sun, in the shade) and can help themselves to kibble anytime they are hungry.  There are no cages, no leashes… and no fights.   Every creature here is loved, respected, and safe …and they know it.

Please take a minute to visit the website:   http://www.animal-sanctuary.org/

Dog beds on the Porch
Heart and Soul Animal Sanctuary’s Giant Doghouse porch has beds for everyone.
Feeding the dogs
Food and water dishes are always full for the 30+ dogs.  They can eat whenever they get hungry.
New Mexico dog walk
Every afternoon, Natalie takes the dogs on a hike.  It begins with a chaotic cacophony of dog voices as Natalie leads the way to the trail…surrounded by little feet and wagging tails.  Once on the trail, some dogs run ahead, some stay close and others wander out to the sides…dashing back along the way.
dog tired puppy gets a lift
 On this hike, the puppies got so tired from keeping up with the big dogs and all the exciting activity, that they started falling asleep in the sun because we lingered too long…and a couple needed to be carried back.
memorial urns dog cremation
There is a quiet chapel with a shelf of urns–each with a photo.  Gone, but never forgotten.
chicken with Natalie Owings
Natalie brings a chicken into the barn.
Rabbits, heat lamp and space heater
On a cold day, rescued rabbits huddle under a heat lamp.
white doves peace birds
Some people release doves at weddings or funerals, not realizing that the domesticated birds cannot survive without their communities.  Doves will often be killed by other animals or starve after the release.  Natalie has built an aviary to give homes to rescued wedding doves.
Heart and Soul Animal Rescue gate
The dogs wait to see where Natalie is going. She almost always stays with them, not going beyond the double-gates.
Horse Chihuahuas puppies
The white horse, Jasmine, was abandoned at the Sanctuary a few years ago. Today, she wanders freely around the place, often with little dogs following her.
Thorn in dog paw
Natalie removes a thorn from a puppy’s foot during one of the afternoon walks.

“Are you ok?”: Giving hope to shelter dogs

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A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about going with Judy early one morning to transport 10 rescued dogs on a 60 mile segment of their journey to Minneapolis.  A rescue mission that felt good…happy…exciting.  I had held a parvo-surviving puppy.  She was lucky to be alive.  Lucky to be out of the shelter on that sunny day and lucky enough to be healthy and on her way to a rescue.  I felt her little heart beating, felt her tiny breath–felt her sigh as she gave in to a few minutes of sleep.  I was happy and full of hope holding that little dog…so, so full of hope.

Later that day, after the transport was complete, we went to animal control…a place where hope is hard to feel.  This is the place where almost half the dogs who walk in never come out alive*.  This is the place where so many people who love animals have the sad job of collecting unwanted, lost or abused dogs and cats.  This is the place where volunteer doctors and staff work tirelessly to save animals, and yet have to euthanize many healthy and treatable animals simply because there is no more room.  This is also the place where rescuers go to begin their work, where saving a dog begins.  They identify dogs for rescue, posting and sharing snapshots to network the many homeless faces, hoping that just maybe someone somewhere will fall in love and they can pull a dog out of there.  Rescuers go to Animal Control often, especially when they know their fosters have room to squeeze in just one more.

The place is a maze of “pavilions”, rooms separating the animals into those ready for adoption, those being held as “evidence” for court cases, those in medical care, or those simply doing their time in hopes that someone will come looking for them before their 5 days are up.  There are no outside windows in these rooms full of cages.  The rooms can be loud with echos of barking, crying dogs.  Or the rooms can be silent…like the air has been sucked out of the place, like dementors have been there.

Today, we were there to look for a couple of dogs that had been posted online for potential rescue, to temperament test another.  I followed Judy and her scrap of paper with the cage numbers.  All those sad eyes on us.  All the life behind those bars.  Some of the dogs desperate for you to slow down, to look, to touch, to acknowledge that they are alive.  Other dogs cowered in the cages, terrified, trembling, lost and confused, and maybe broken forever.  These dogs seemed not to want anyone to look at them, to see them, matted and dirty, shrinking into the bright orange tile and concrete corners.

It is hard to witness.  I tried to concentrate on photographing Judy with the dogs, on learning what she was looking for when she studied their paperwork.  I followed her–her golden ponytail, her scrap of paper with the cage numbers, her voice.  And I watched her…I watched her muster her spirit, her smile, her hope in this hard place.  I watched her giving hope to each of those shelter dogs.  “Are you ok?” she asked each of them with a smile.  “Are you ok?”  Sometimes it was a question.  Sometimes it was a statement, willing them to be ok when options looked bleak.  Whatever it was, even if she spent only a second with each soul–it mattered.  That little heartbeat of a moment, a smile, a kind voice…It means everything…to the dogs…and to Judy.

It is a cruelly hard job for animal lovers to work in this place, to remain hopeful, to not give up at the sheer magnitude and the never ending streams of needy faces. But at the end of the day, it’s all about the dogs.

"Are you ok?"
“Are you ok?”, Judy asks. Judging from his scars, he may have been used in dog fights.
Reading this dog's kennel card while he waits
Kennel cards tell you a little bit about the dog’s history…maybe a name, maybe a former address or where he was found, maybe a bit about his tolerance of other dogs, cats or children.  The cards also tell you how much time he has left.
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Pearl was scared and angry. Judy waited, talking to her about nothing in particular.
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This smiling baby watched me as I watched Judy…After 30 minutes, Judy was still trying to convince Pearl to come out of her cage. Pearl would eventually get out of her cage for rescue, though this would not be that day.
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One of the aisles of cages, in one of the many pavilions at Chicago’s Animal Care and Control.
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“Unknown” name, found at an “unknown location”. Matted, dirty, terrified. This dog had 2 microchips and was waiting for the owner(s) to be identified and notified.
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Aisles of cages, and always…always…a waiting face.
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Judy noticed this mama had painted nails. “Who polished your nails and then abandoned you here? Where are your babies?”
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“Are you ok?”

*  Most current (2011) Asilomar Accords records from CACC:  “Jan 1 holding 863 dogs.  Thru 2011:  Took in 11,115 dogs.  Adopted out 943, Transferred out to rescues/other organizations 3,407, Returned to owner 1,355.   Euthanized/Died in care:  5,477.  Dec 31 holding 793 dogs.”  (corrected math on records shows 796 dogs remaining.)  Please see www.asilomaraccords.org for more information on shelters in your area.