| 
|
Chapter 55. Rescue and Adoptions -- Never the Twains Should Meet.
"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times."
So goes the opening line to the Dickens classic, "A Tale of Two Cities"
And so best describes the experiences we had when doing cat adoptions in a prominent location on Petco's main floor, directly in front of the 86th Street window.
East 86th Street and Lexington Avenue in Manhattan is one of the most heavily trafficked blocks in all of New York. It is a little similar to Times Square. A major subway stop, movie theaters, fast food joints, lots of shopping and many transient people.
Our location in front of the large, panoramic windows of Petco meant we drew lots of onlookers and attention, both for better and for worse. The "better" of course, was a great increase in adoptions. The "worse" ran the gamut from time-wasters, talkers, complainers, or people one wouldn't feel comfortable adopting a cockroach to, let alone a cat.
Taps on the windows, waves and other moronic girations outside were meant, I suppose, to catch the attention of the cats we had in cages, but more often than not, served to annoy both the cats and me. "Jerks!" I found myself saying almost everyday, to the point, I felt compelled to put small "Please don't tap" signs on the windows. The signs didn't do much good, as it seems many people either couldn't or didn't want to read.
The windows faced the South part of the city and, particularly on warm days, the blazing sun shining in, became a problem. We had to devise ways to try and shade the cats from its heat.
Directly in front of our cat adoption display was the dog food section of Petco. Many of the people who came by, therefore had dogs. Normally, this wasn't a problem. But, occasionally, some dogs lunged at the cats in cages and other times we had cats who were particularly stressed by the presence of dogs. I accepted this situation as par for the course, but it was especially stressing to one of our newer volunteers, LJ Springer.
LJ Springer was a blonde, very attractive woman in her thirties who worked with Siamese Rescue, but recently signed on to help us with cat adoptions at Petco. She was extremely bright, cat-knowledgeable, accomplished and had a warm, outgoing, if not slightly nervous personality.
LJ was energetic, very physically fit and a hard worker. She rarely sat down or relaxed. She had a great love for cats and was willing to foster or nurse back to health those cats picked up from CACC suffering from Upper Respiratory Infections. LJ was a Godsend to me. She was extremely dependable and proficient in everything she did. She had a great sense of humor and for the most part, was good in dealing with people.
However, as life itself is a series of ups and downs, so too, does every human and animal have a "down and up side." The ups of LJ were many. But, the one down side, was that she could sometimes be overprotective of the animals. To her, this meant trying to gently shoo away those people who came by our adoption display with dogs.
"If you don't mind, could you keep your dog away?" LJ would say. "We have cats here."
This irked and worried me, due to our past experiences on the main floor of Petco. We couldn't, after all, intimidate possible customers of the store.
"LJ, people have a right to come here with dogs," I said to LJ several times. "We are, after all in the dog food section of the store. We have to anticipate this. The cats are in cages. They are protected already. It isn't necessary to do this."
LJ listened to me and followed the "rules," but I could tell she didn't feel and agree with some. It was hard for her to quell her natural tendencies to protect the cats. She didn't like people poking fingers in the cages at the animals or coming by with their dogs.
Over time, I felt we had to find a middle ground in some of these tricky situations. Petting the cats was OK. Dogs were OK. But, shaking cages (something small children had tendency to do) or jabbing at the cats was not.
Because our cat adoption numbers had tripled since being returned to the main floor, I was able to add more cages and add more cats to our adoption display. I was also able to make many more trips to CACC to pick up cats.
But, if I was happy with our new successes and increased adoptions, I was horribly depressed when fully realizing the vast number of animals we could not save. A typical visit at CACC would mean looking at more than a hundred cats, only three or four of which we could take. Instead of feeling gratified with the animals we could save, I was instead haunted and guilt-ridden by the ones we could not.
It is probably never a good idea that the same person doing rescue is also the one primarily dealing with the public and doing adoptions. Most shelters in fact, "compartmentalize" these duties -- and for good reason.
Doing rescue -- whether from streets or pounds -- exposes one to all the neglect, abuses and abandonment humans routinely inflict on animals. It is to familiarize and overwhelm one with the dark side of modern pet-owning. After a while, one tends to become very cautious, wary, frustrated and skeptical with the human race.
It was very typical on any visit to CACC to see animals commonly abandoned for things like "moving," "having a baby," or "no time for." It sometimes made me wonder how many of the people dumping animals at the pound might come by Petco, seeking to adopt a new one? Would they ever admit to dumping a former pet at the pound? Probably not.
Would the animals we adopt out now later be abandoned at the pound for something as trivial as "moving" or "traveling?" These were questions which plagued me.
It was a true contrast in realities to spend time at the dismal pound looking at doomed faces and to then return to Petco, with its cartoon-like caricatures of happy pets and people standing around our cat cages cooing or making cutesy remarks. Where was the truth in these diametrically opposed situations? Where was I to find the balance and the equilibrium?
The truth was, many times, I couldn't.
One evening I walked into Petco, carrying a mother and five kittens and three other cats just rescued from CACC. A group of people, some with small children were standing around the cages, poking fingers at some of our cats. One small boy was shaking one of the cages as Suzanne Goldhirsh tried to divert his attention. "Oh, honey, you shouldn't do that," she said patiently. "Here's a cat toy. Perhaps you can use this to play with the cat."
I felt suddenly furious.
Upon placing the Mom and kittens in one cage and asking Suzanne and Ruth to help me with the others, I stepped on a small stool and commanded attention from the people:
"Please understand, folks, we are not here for amusement or entertainment. Everyday, there are more than 100 dogs, cats and kittens being destroyed in our city pounds. The cats you see here are but a small fraction of those who have been doomed. We have saved them and now need to find homes. We desperately need foster people and responsible, loving adopters. If you cannot adopt, foster or help in other ways, please move on, so that others who could contribute might have proper access here."
Ruth was shocked by my seeming outburst and said, "For God sakes, Patty, you can't use this place like a soapbox! Maybe some of these people will adopt if you are nice to them. You are going to scare them away!" "Oh, come on, Ruth." I replied, bitterly. "You always believe the best in everyone. You should see some of these same 'nice' people dumping their animals at the pound. As for the rest, I just want them to understand reality and stop torturing our cats. This isn't fun and games here."
But, if my outburst scared off some people, it apparently affected a mother and her two children who had been quietly looking at the cats.
The well dressed and attractive woman came up to me and asked about fostering. "We have a large apartment just a few blocks from here. If you are seeking a foster for the mother and kittens, my kids and I would be glad to help out."
Though completely unplanned, my little speech (or tantrum, according to Ruth) succeeded in finding an urgently needed foster home for the pretty Calico cat and her five kittens.
"That would be wonderful," I told the pretty red-haired mother and her two well-behaved children. "We can bring them over to your house tonight when we finish here. I will show you the things you will need."
But, deep in my heart, I knew Ruth was right.
As I helped the new foster family to pick out food and other supplies they would need, the thought occurred that "never should rescue and adoptions mix."
But, for this night it had worked well and for the moment, that was all that mattered.