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Chapter 38. Whatever Became of.....?
"I'm sorry, Ma'am, we don't push a button and come up with homes. Adoption doesn't work like that. It takes time to find the right home for an animal."
I was talking to a woman who called to "get rid of" a seven-year-old Maltese dog who was given to her some weeks before by a friend. "I had no idea having an animal was such a big responsibility," the woman complained. "I come home from work and the dog has messed up all over the house!"
"You need to understand, Ma'am that the dog is confused and disoriented after losing his original home. It takes a good month or sometimes longer for animals to adjust to a new environment. I am sure he will get the housebreaking down, but it takes patience and time."
"I don't have time to put up with this!" the woman shouted now, frustrated that I did not have an immediate solution for her. "Can't you come here and pick up this dog?"
"I can't do that, Ma'am. But, I am willing to try and work with you. Can you bring him to my vet tomorrow? We need to get his shots updated and I need to have his health and temperament evaluated."
"He's a healthy, friendly dog," the woman countered. It was obvious she didn't want to do anything for the dog. I could not get her to listen or cooperate. "I will call up the woman who gave him to me and demand that she take him back," the woman announced, seemingly dismissing everything I told her.
"Didn't you tell me that the woman moved to 'no pet' housing? How is she going to take the dog back?" "I don't care," the woman yelled. "He can't stay here!" "Fine," I said. "Look, give the woman my number and tell her she can call. If she's willing to cooperate, we can try to help her."
It was obvious I was getting nowhere with this particular caller.
As is so often the case after these types of calls, I felt depressed and self-questioning after the woman finally hung up. Could I have handled this person better? What will become of the dog? Why are they so unwilling to cooperate?
But, the reality was, we couldn't just "take" every animal we are called about. We need to be sure the animals are basically healthy and of reasonably sound temperament. We need to have a safe place to put the animal until s/he can be adopted. With dogs, that often meant boarding at a vet until we could find suitable foster or adoption (presuming the vet had cage space).
There is always the very real danger in rescue work that if one allows the public to guilt-trip, threaten or browbeat the rescue worker, she or he can end up becoming a "collector."
A collector is often a person who starts out with good intentions of saving animals, only to lose sight of limitations and reality. The rescuer takes in more animals than what s/he can properly care for. (There are also those who simply fail to neuter their pets and wind up with dozens or even hundreds of animals living in squalor, filth and disease). In both cases, the situations can disintegrate into one of human mental disorder, denial and failure to see reality.
It is particularly sad however, for those in rescue who, in many cases, have animals literally dumped on their doorstep once they have been perceived by the public of "taking in every stray or unwanted pet." The rescuer becomes overwhelmed, loses control of the situation and doesn't know where to turn for help. S/he loses the ability to say "no," (if indeed s/he ever had it) and others learn how to manipulate the guilt and responsibility emotions in her/him. "Don't you call yourself 'rescue'? Isn't that what your organization is supposed to do? Take in animals?" Or worse: "If you don't take this cat or dog, I am putting him/her in the street."
The public is very quick to condemn those people who are eventually raided by SPCA's for having too many animals and who are highlighted on the evening news. But, in many cases, that very same public has helped to create and contributed to the situation.
I was becoming increasingly concerned about one such woman in my neighborhood. Ironically, the same woman who originally helped me when I first got into rescue work. Mary Case had a reputation for taking in every stray or unwanted cat that people called her about. While she personally didn't go out and pick up cats, her number was "out there" for everyone either struggling with strays or seeking to dump personal pets.
Mary never allowed anyone to see the insides of her house. Rather, she went to others to pick up the cats or met the relinquisher outside of her building and took the cat(s). That to me, was a "red flag" and I tried to warn other rescue people not to give Mary any more cats. But, few would listen to me.
We tried to help Mary place some cats through Pet Stop. But, the cats she brought us were always dirty and reeking of unpleasant smells and Upper Respiratory Infections. Tony Ficcio yelled at me about accepting "sick" cats from Mary Case. His girlfriend, Anita, however, helped me treat and clean the cats up without complaint.
But, no matter how many cats we tried to place for Mary Case, she always took in more. We could not clean up and adopt the animals out as fast as Mary took them in.
Rescue work is often something one can literally drown in if not extremely careful. It is all too easy to get over one's head and not even see it coming.
In 2002, Mary Case suffered a stroke and had to be hospitalized for a period of time. Her successful lawyer daughter then had a horror house of more than a 140 cats to suddenly deal with. Many of the sick cats had to be euthanized. But, Carol was able to get some of the larger organizations such as "Peace Plantation" to take many of the others. As bad as it was, the situation could have been worse.
New Yorkers for Companion Animals took two of Mary's cats when she suffered the stroke. While I felt regret that we could not take more at the time, I was nevertheless at peace with the fact we had placed many of Mary's cats over the years, thus sparing them the fate of substandard care and squalid living conditions.
I of course, had my own "guilt" where Mary was concerned for having given her my first rescued "feral" cat, Linya several years before. But, I more than made up for that over the years.
Still, I never found out whatever became of Linya.
I had to hope Linya was one of those lucky cats that finally went to Peace Plantation.