Warning: Some People Suck

Warning number two – this one won’t be fun to read. This post is about a recent situation of animal cruelty. Please skip it if you aren’t up for it.

Seriously.

My girlfriend called me yesterday afternoon. I could tell immediately, from her voice, that something was wrong. It was the same voice she used when the tornado hit North Minneapolis this last spring. It was the same voice when her daughter witnessed gunshots outside their window. I asked her if she was OK. She said no.

I didn’t hesitate. I stood up and got my coat on. I headed to her house. Fortunately, I can make it there in about four minutes. I remained on the phone with her as I sped over there.

I don’t remember what she said first. I don’t remember if she gave me the story in order or if she started with telling me that she had a cat in her back porch that had been burnt and she didn’t know what to do with it. I know she asked what would happen if we called the Animal Control unit. I know she wanted to know what would happen if we took the cat to the shelter.

I walked into her back porch and I swear to you this kitten about broke my heart. I knew by then that he was burnt, but not super badly. I didn’t know, until that moment, that the smell was enough to make anyone want to vomit. It wasn’t just the smell of his burnt fur (and possibly flesh in spots). It was burnt fur and pee and poo all wrapped up in a furry little package.

He was mostly white, naturally, but he had a huge patch of fur on his right hind end area and lower back area that was a rust color where his fur had clearly been burnt. His whiskers were all “melted”. I say melted, because it didn’t seem like they were singed, like his fur. It seemed more like they had perhaps partially burnt off and then curled up in the heat. Who am I to know though? I have never seen a cat that had been set on fire before. I hope I never have to again either.

I called a friend who was a vet tech for many years. She helped me process our choices. It was Sunday, so the Animal Control unit would not be open. The only option was seeing if we could get him to a shelter or take him in ourselves. All of us wanted to keep him. Well, all of us humans. We kept our existing pets in mind and knew that it wasn’t fair to them if we took on another animal under an emergency situation like that.

This cat was in her garbage can. Along with a ripped up paper bag. And some pee and poo.

Someone had lit this cat on fire and left it in her garbage can.

One would think that a cat, having been tortured like that, would be a bit frantic, crazed and mean even. Not this cat.

This cat was so frickin’ sweet, it was painful.

He purred. He nudged up against us. He meowed playfully.

It was heartbreaking to assimilate what had somehow happened to him. Who does something like that? Oh, yeah, a serial killer in training does that. It is so very disturbing.

We called the closest Animal Humane Society (Golden Valley) and left a message on their scheduling line. I called the main number back, knowing this was not a situation that warranted following the rules. I told the woman who answered that we left a message. I know she was going to try and get me to follow procedure initially. Until I told her we just found a cat in a garbage can that had been lit on fire. She immediately transferred me to someone else. “Can you get him here in 15 minutes?”

I said yes, as we walked out the door with him. I completed more of the intake questions over the phone while driving to the shelter.

We only had to wait a few minutes until someone helped us and we were back in the exam room with the cat and the vet tech within 5 minutes I think. She agreed with our assessment, that he didn’t seem to have deep burns anywhere and he seemed alright. He sneezed every few minutes though. She said that they will have to monitor him, that sometimes it is as late as two weeks later when potential lung damage from these situations shows up. These situations. Seriously?!? Who are these people and who are their kids that do things like this to an innocent animal?

The vet tech was great. She talked with us for a long time. We were super sad to leave him, but knew that he needed medical attention and that neither of us could afford to take him home with us. We know that, if they determine his lungs are too damaged, that they will euthanize him. And that if he checks out medically he will likely be adopted quickly.

Did I mention how sweet he was? I have had a fair number of cats over the years. And I have known countless cats. I love cats. I am the first to admit though that not all cats are super friendly or warm and cuddly. This cat. This cat was amazing. So precious.

It horrifies me to know that someone tortured him like that.

And I can still smell that sickening smell.

We are all a bit traumatized too.

I was so grateful to see his photo posted today on the website – to visually see that he had been cleaned up. You can bet I will continue to monitor what’s up with this little cat as much as possible. I did a bit of Animal Communication with him last night. It was super hard for me to do it though, I had held it together most of the day and then couldn’t stop crying when I talked with him. He promised that he is going to be just fine. I apologized on behalf of humankind and whoever did that to him.

He said they will get their due.

Maybe I will do some volunteer work at the animal shelter? If I had money to donate, I certainly would. They do some amazing work there.

My Dog Went to Law School Recently

A couple of weeks ago, Sofia took on a special Therapy Dog gig. We went to the University of Minnesota Law School for four hours and she did her magic on law students. As part of what they call “Life Balance Week” they enlist volunteer Therapy Dog teams to work with the students for a chunk of time. We did this last spring too. Therefore, we were much more prepared going into this situation for the second time. Neither of us was as anxious as the previous round.

I arrived in plenty of time and we made our way down to the basement, where they have vending machines as well as numerous classrooms. A handful of other Therapy Dog teams had already arrived. I didn’t even try to introduce her to the other dogs. I knew her focus needed to be the students and I wanted her to be on top of her game. I grabbed two nearby chairs and pulled them up in the hallway area, next to a podium of sorts. I put Sofia’s little dog bed on the seat of a chair and my chair next to her.

She sat on that chair like a princess and did an amazing job. For the next several hours, hundreds of law students went back and forth to classes. Sometimes there would be four or five students at one time stopped, petting Sofia, asking questions about her, and telling me stories about their dogs.

I would assume that there were about 15 other Therapy Dog teams before the day was over. Most of the other dogs were bigger. We lined up both sides of the hallway area. Not every student stopped for every dog, but most couldn’t help themselves once they laid eyes on Sofia.

Once again, it was amazing for me to witness her being a rock star as a Therapy Dog.

The looks on the students’ faces were precious when they would see her. Many of the students have had dogs in their lives and they were all happy to stop and get some dog love in the middle of their busy day. I can’t tell you how many of them talked about how sad they are, away at school, missing their dogs that live at home with their parents. A fair number of students were not dog lovers. They were cat lovers, or not animal lovers at all. But, they would still stop, mesmerized by Sofia. They were much more tentative reaching out to pet her, but they didn’t seem able to resist and were pleasantly surprised each time.

It was pretty precious too, to notice students that seem to prefer to be left alone. They were walking alone and some of them even seemed somewhat annoyed that they had to bother getting around all of the commotion with students and dogs stopped everywhere. But, again, they’d see Sofia and slowly work their way over to us. Some of them didn’t even say a word. It was clear however, that they were grateful for her energy.

The professors and faculty tend to stop by and take advantage of the day as well. One woman was petting Sofia and shared with me that they had just euthanized their 14 year old dog the week before. She held back her tears and talked about whether or not they will get another dog, someday. Another man knelt down on the ground and Sofia began to lick his hands. Someone else commented about how she seems to be a “licker”. I said that I had noticed all day that she did not lick everyone, only a select few actually. “She knows my hands hurt” he said, and then shared that he had been typing for hours and his hands ached all day. She continued to lick him.

Many students returned after going to class. “Can I pet your dog again, please?”

I think it is pretty awesome that the Law School puts so much effort into helping their students gain self-care knowledge and even more awesome that they arrange for Therapy Dogs to come in once a semester to help out. You can bet me and Sofia will do this again.

“Dog” Spelled Backwards

My little dog and I recently started a new volunteer gig at a nursing home. It is not our first Therapy Dog job, nor are we the only Therapy Dog team working at this facility. I am pretty pleased with the results thus far though.

We started out October 19th. I resisted the urge to have her wear her little black bandana with the Candy Corn pattern in the material. She got it on one of her visits to the Hound Dog Pet Hotel. I debated with myself whether it was too early, or perfect, to flash a bit of Halloween energy. I decided I couldn’t do that to her, or me, on our very first visit. Funny thing, someone asked me that day if I “dress her up” often.

“She wears sweaters when it is cold.”

The beauty of working with Sofia at my side is that she takes on the majority of the attention. She shines even more than I do. People have plenty of questions for or about her.

I was super anxious that first day. The Volunteer Coordinator was absolutely lovely to talk with on the phone. I went as mentally prepared as possible for that chance that she was one of those people. One of those people who see me and have an immediate negative reaction. I was anxious that the residents would have difficulty processing me.

It turned out that the Volunteer Coordinator is as wonderful and genuine in person as she was on the phone. She was super sweet to both me and Sofia. It is apparent that she loves dogs. She is great with the residents. Consistently respectful.

We were scheduled for ten in the morning, which turned out to be not the best timing. They have breakfast, or brunch, or some meal at that time. We managed to make it to each of the three floors and be seen by the majority of folks. Most of the residents, from my observations thus far, are in wheelchairs. Sofia is too short for them to pet her when she is on the ground. When the Volunteer Coordinator directed us to a specific person, I would kneel down in front of them and prop Sofia up on one of my knees. Smiles. They all smiled. Most reached out to pet her. Some giggled and encouraged her to lick their fingers. Some immediately started talking about their dog from whatever time frame in their life. Each and every one of them “lit up” though. I don’t remember having such a vivid example of this phrase before. I didn’t know any of these people, but, their reactions to seeing Sofia were more than obvious and always good.

It was all sort of a whirlwind. Our hour time frame was up. It felt like we saw 100 people. I left there feeling good about the energy of the space in general, as well as the residents. I am grateful that the Volunteer Coordinator stays with us and steers us away from the handful of residents that do not like dogs (translation – are afraid of them, perhaps previously traumatized by). I was happy to realize that not many people looked at me, hardly at all. They were keenly focused on Sofia – straining their eyesight and hearing, trying to soak up as much of her as possible.

Our second visit was on November 2nd. I have intentionally wanted to work with Sofia on Wednesday morning, so the actual date is a coincidence. I was pleased with it though. November 2nd is the death anniversary of my sweet cat Bubba, who died in 2009. I figured Bubba would be proud of me – taking special care of Sofia and doing some volunteer work, spreading the love…

We were less anxious. We were more excited. We were again arriving just in time for their meal. It was again a bit of a whirlwind. Some of the faces looked familiar to me. I was still disoriented as to where we were and grateful that the Volunteer Coordinator was with us the entire time. Again, the reactions to Sofia were precious. I watched one woman, sitting at a table, seemingly in some sort of “catatonic” state. She was not paying attention, if you will, to anyone else at the table. She didn’t seem to notice anything. It would have been easy enough to assume she could not see or hear. That whole hour was again so many folks that I don’t remember enough details. I do remember this woman reaching out for Sofia. I do remember this woman smiling.

It wasn’t until we walked away from that area that it started to hit me how serious Sofia’s impact could be. The Volunteer Coordinator said something to me about how amazing that reaction from that woman was. She proceeded to mention that particular interaction, incredulously, to her co-workers as we moved on to other areas, each expressing some level of impression hearing that report. She told me later that week on the phone that she had worked there for seven years and never seen a reaction like that out of that particular resident.

Again, it was all fun enough, but somewhat overwhelming with so many people in such a short amount of time. And I can’t say that they all look alike of course. Although, they are almost all white, they are all fairly old, they are mostly women, and they all have a familiar feeling to me. When I did my initial phone interview, the Volunteer Coordinator at one point said that it is “sort of like visiting your grandparents.” She is right. None of these people really, truly “look like” any of my grandparents. However, they all have a sense of familiarity about them.

I couldn’t tell you one of their names. Overwhelming. Good, but overwhelming. I wish I could remember which one looked up at me and said “You know what dog spelled backwards is, don’t ya?” winking at me as she said it. I wish I would have counted how many times I heard “She’s soft as silk.” I couldn’t tell you one of their names. And their faces were mostly a blur.

Today was our third visit. It was wonderful. I sucked it up, and agreed to go at nine in the morning rather than ten. Makes a big difference in a nursing home. The Volunteer Coordinator was with us the whole time again. We didn’t even leave the first floor; previously, we hit all three floors. She walked around with us, helping us decide whose room we could visit or what activities we could bare witness to and join the energy of. I had thought ahead, thank goodness, of bringing one of Sofia’s blankets along – knowing we might go into rooms this visit. I was glad I did. The first room we went to there was a woman who loves dogs and was thrilled when we walked into the room. She was confined to her bed, on her back, so she could not see Sofia or pet her. She wanted to though. I got permission and then put the blanket on this woman’s belly, basically, and then Sofia onto the blanket. I periodically asked if Sofia’s weight (all 13.2 pounds of her) was too much or if she was OK with Sofia still. The grin from ear-to-ear and the stories about her own dogs were pretty good evidence that this woman was just fine with Sofia sitting on top of her.

Another woman was sitting up in a chair, reading the newspaper when we walked in. She wanted Sofia on her lap. This woman reminded me most of my grandma Winnie by the way. Similar hairdo. Higher pitched voice. It was just a fleeting reminder. And then I focused on paying attention to Sofia and this woman and facilitating their interaction. Precious.

We joined a group sitting in an open area that were all “parked” in their wheelchairs (except two, I think, who had arrived with the assistance of walkers and were sitting on regular chairs) facing another staff member who was reading the newspaper to them. Cute. Sofia had excellent interactions with four or five of those folks, and got random smiles from the others.

We moved on to an area where some of them were gathering for their next meal. The Volunteer Coordinator directed me to a woman sitting at the table already. She smiled and was pleasant and happy, but I could tell she was hesitant to take her eyes off of Sofia in a different way than most. She was nervous. She could not stop talking about how pretty Sofia was though. I pulled up a chair and sat Sofia on the chair next to this woman. Eventually, she reached out one of her hands and touched Sofia’s fur. She smiled bigger.

“Will she bite me?”

“Well, any dog could bite, but I am watching her. That is my job, to pay attention to her and make sure she is OK. She likes you. Her ears are up. She has a little smile on her face.”

I think she appreciated my blatant honesty. Seriously, though, any dog could bite. And I have seen Sofia have negative reactions to some people, although not while officially on-duty and always when caught off-guard.

It was super fun then to watch this woman continue to gently pet Sofia and see her anxiety melt away. Soon, she was trying to get the attention of anyone coming by us – pointing to Sofia. “I don’t even like dogs. I like this dog. I’d keep this dog.” Pretty fun.

I’m pretty grateful for Sofia. She brings consistent joy and love into my own life. I’m real grateful that she is willing to help me spread that love and joy elsewhere too.

Now, if I could just get her a paying gig. Just kidding. Mostly. I’m not too proud to accept donations to help support our work. Dog food isn’t free, ya know.