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Chapter 39. The Old Making Way for the New
"We'd like to invite your organization to show cats for adoption at one of our new stores opening next month in Manhattan," the manager of Petco told me over the phone one late fall afternoon in '96.
The idea of showing and being able to adopt out more cats in a larger, more heavily trafficked store than Pet Stop was appealing to me. The "Law of Diminishing Returns" seemed to be occurring at Pet Stop in the almost two years we were there. Pet Stop was a small pet supply store on Manhattan's Upper East Side. It relied on a steady and loyal clientele. The problem for us, was that the same people came in all the time and they already had pets. Most of the adoptions we did at Pet Stop were through flyer postings and newspaper ads -- in other words, our own efforts.
Additionally, the store manager at Pet Stop, Melissa, placed NYCA in a small back corner of the store. We had little visibility to most of the people coming in. During warm weather, we took cages and cats outside the store for greater visibility. But, the warm weather would soon be ending. Did I want to spend another winter tucked away in Pet Stop's back corner?
"I will be happy to accept your offer," I told the manager for the new Petco.
Melissa of course, wasn't happy when I told her we would be changing store locations. Both owner and management at Pet Stop were threatened by a new, cheaper and larger competition opening in the same area. I felt bad and somewhat guilty. Pet Stop, had, after all offered us our first opportunity to show cats publicly for adoption, thereby increasing our abilities to rescue and place cats.
But, ultimately, I had to do what was better for the cats and what could help us increase adoptions and rescue. While, I had never been one to break commitments and quit jobs over trivial cause, this wasn't about me. It was about saving animals.
Petco opened in November of 1996. It was a big, sprawling two-level store located on the extremely busy corner of 86th Street and Lexington Ave. Unfortunately, we were once again placed in an obscure area of the store: On the second floor, across from the bird room. It seemed unlikely that people coming to look at birds, fish or other small animals on the second floor would be interested in cats.
Our early days at Petco were therefore, rough. Most people viewed us like a type of "petting zoo" or asked us how much we were selling the cats for. There was little perception of rescue and adoption. We were in a store which marketed and sold animals and it was therefore difficult for most people to differentiate between us as rescuers and the store as sellers. More often than not, I had the feeling we were at Petco more as fuzzy entertainment than any real or serious purpose. This was a problem for me personally as my mission was indeed very purposeful and serious. My volunteers on the other hand, being more detached from the pressures of rescue, were better at handling the "public relations" of the situation.
Susan Stein was one volunteer who made the transition with me from Pet Stop to Petco. Susan was a cheerful, recently married, optimistic young woman who seemed to enjoy being out amongst the public and doing something to help animals. She and her husband had two adored and pampered cats of their own. While not involved in the "hands on" of rescue or foster work, Susan liked the idea of finding homes for homeless animals. She was a loyal and dedicated asset to the organization -- if not necessarily, a personal ally to me.
Susan could not understand or relate to the stressers and pressures I felt to save and place more cats. She couldn't understand my frustration with our location in the store, as well as the superficial ways most of the customers at the second floor Petco seemed to relate to us. "Patty, you need to be a little nicer towards and more understanding of the people," Susan sometimes said to me, a sunny, perpetual smile on her face. "They mean well." "Maybe so," I said to Susan, no smile on my face. "But, I still hate the way they poke at these cats like the animals are toys or entertainment, rather than living, breathing, needy beings."
About this time, Ann Kolquist volunteered time to help NYCA place cats. Ann was a lovely young doctor studying and doing research in New York. She volunteered Saturdays to help us at Petco. A little less sunny and more serious minded than Susan, Ann nevertheless had a quiet, gentle, patient way with the public and also represented a strong asset to the organization. She was a calming influence to me.
A young teen-age girl, Suzanna Goldhirsh, also joined the small group of volunteers at Petco during this time. Suzanna was only 16-years-old, but very wise and understanding of the dilemmas and hardships of rescue and placement. She too, had a cheerful and outgoing personality to the public, but I also had the feeling of inward suffering and need on Suzanna's part. Suzanna didn't just "love animals," but also strongly empathized with them.
To my great joy, Suzanna also offered to foster kittens and cats for NYCA. Something I desperately needed. Living in a large apartment only a couple of blocks from Petco, Suzanna's parents gave her permission to foster as long as she kept the foster cats/kittens in her room. Suzanna and her family were a God send!
Despite our poor location in Petco, NYCA nevertheless succeeded in getting far more adoptions than at Pet Stop. The sheer volume of different people coming into the store each week granted us greater visibility and a wider pool of human resources. Nevertheless, after almost a year at Petco and a change in store management, I finally succeeded in persuading the new manager to give us a place on the first floor at Petco. "We need to be where the cat food and supplies are," I told him. "I can't promote cats to people buying birds and fish!"
The new manager agreed with me and gave us a spot in the back of the first floor alongside the kitty litter. "Oh Joy!" I said, when noting the location was also in front of a glass delivery door overlooking Lexington Ave. Finally, we had visibility!
The new location, as expected, brought us far greater public involvement, donations and adoptions. When returning from college in the summer, Tara helped us on weekends as the constant flurry of onlookers, supporters and adopters had increased ten-fold.
Most of the cats we showed for adoption were then coming from either CACC or Mary Case (a woman known to take in every cat she was called about). I made at least one or two trips a week to CACC to pick up cats about to be euthanized. Occasionally, I sent Tara to the pound to pick up a cat or two.
Unfortunately, most cats rescued from CACC either had or were incubating Upper Respiratory Infections. Most required foster and medications before they could be shown for adoptions. Many also had to be spayed and neutered before they could be adoption-ready.
Increasingly, I was experiencing problems with Tony Ficcio, one of the original founders of NYCA and long-time volunteer. He complained about me taking cats from Mary Case because of their generally poor conditions. "These cats," Tony said, "stink so much and are filthy." "Its a simple thing to clean them up, Tony," I answered. "Don't you think its important to get these cats out of Mary's place?"
But, if Tony was giving me grief over Mary's cats, he was downright livid when it came to taking cats from CACC. "You can't keep taking sick cats from the shelter, Patty! You have to think about mounting vet bills."
Tony had legitimate concerns of course. But the fact is, rescue is never a piece of cake. Either one has to deal with healthy, but skittish, potentially semi-feral cats (strays) or one is dealing with social cats who have either contracted a URI at the pound or lacked proper care at the home of an overburdened rescuer/collector. Though Tony was helpful to NYCA in significant ways, he was not involved in rescue hands-on and seemed to have little real understanding of the dilemmas and choices. I didn't have people calling me to give up two-year-old healthy, friendly Persians or Siamese kittens!
If Tony and I were locking horns over which cats to rescue, we came to actual verbal blows with the production of NYCA's latest newsletter. Tara made some good suggestions which I incorporated into the four-age flyer. Tony was once again, very critical of the newsletter, but this time called Tara "stupid" for her ideas. This was the final straw for me. Criticism was one thing, but calling my daughter, "stupid" was quite another. I was livid.
I am not sure if Tony quit or I asked him to leave, but in any case, we both agreed that the association had come to an end. His long-time and loyal companion, Anita also left the organization though there was no discord between Anita and myself. Despite the difficulties of ending a long-time association, we all remained friends. To this day, Tony and Anita still support the organization.
A few years later, I finally took some of Tony's persistent suggestions/criticisms to heart. For both economic and practical reasons, I cut NYCA's newsletters from four pages to two.
"You just need to tell 'em what you're doing and ask for money," Tony said repeatedly. "Forget all the other crap."
Sadly, in our fast-paced, "ADD" culture where people barely have time or inclination to read beyond trailers or headlines, what Tony said had in many ways, been right.
In the struggles between idealism and practicality, practicality usually wins.
And as the old eventually makes way for the new, it was not long after Tony and Anita left NYCA, that Judy Koretz and Kathy Skillen soon came on board.
Life and rescue inevitably moves on.