I admit it; I failed the first test of any foster parent – I fell in love with my foster felines. They are such innocent, loving, inquisitive young beings, so consistently delighted with everything they encounter. While their affection may not be as sycophantic as a puppy, they have their ways. From loud purring every time they greet someone to playful antics over things as mundane as a cardboard box or a piece of string, these two are endearing. I finally surrendered to them and their tomcat ways. I have become putty in their paws.

Declawed and De-tailed

Because they have been declawed, their ability to function in the world has been seriously truncated. Fortunately, they seem to have healed quite well and leap with all the enthusiasm they can muster to spring on top shelves and cabinets, on refrigerators and tables. Without claws, though, they have no room for second chances and no way to defend themselves should a challenger surface. They say being declawed is the human equivalent to having each finger amputated at the first joint. Imagine doing that to a human child, just so they won’t leave marks on the furniture. Declawing a cat is an invasive procedure to make life easier for humans, but it doesn’t do much to enhance the lives of cats.

As if that wasn’t insult enough, they also have no tails.  Manx cats have a spinal deformity that prevents the development of a tail. One of the fosters is completely tailless and the other has a half tail, commonly called a stubtail.  A relative who has worked at a veterinary clinic mentioned that the former guardians may have had their tails cut; some people do that. Our resident female feline uses her tail quite effectively – I can tell pretty instantaneously when she is perturbed, for that amazing appendage will begin making a hard-to-miss statement as it swishes. Not happy. Definitely. Not happy.

Invasive Intervention for Animal Control

It is essential that animals be shorn of their ability to procreate, with millions of animals losing their fight for life each year due to our human inability or unwillingness to care for and feed them all. When only a few months old, these boys were forever separated from their testicles, too. Snip, snip, snip – we humans do what we will – then abandon them to their fate. Our local Texas SPCA works mostly with saving animals relinquished by their owners. They do an admirable job of advertising them online and on television, and find homes for nearly all of them. I used to help advertise their animals and was always shocked at the reasons for their abandonment: lost jobs, ended marriages, but also excuses like: too busy, too many animals, moving to a new location, can’t be bothered.

Loving and Letting Go

The one last thing these brothers now have is each other and their shared experiences in life. Even that, though, may be taken from them. Once they enter the rescue group’s program, they must accept whatever homing options find them. With so many animals dying, these beggars may not be choosers. Humans make the rules, and we do not play fair. As much as I have tried to protect these two, I know I have to let go and hope they find a loving forever home. I hope they will be two of the lucky ones that won’t re-enter the system at a later date. Just by being accepted into the rescue group, they at least have that – if the new guardians ever need to relinquish them, they will go back into the rescue group’s program and not enter a kill shelter. I know that they are, therefore, much more fortunate than the average feline these days, with over 60% of shelter felines losing their chance at life. Loving and letting go is part of being a foster guardian. The loving part is easy; the letting go—not so much. These two young beings are a constant reminder, though, of the importance of focusing on what we have, not what we have lost; it is what allows them to love again and appreciate every little scrap life has to offer.  It is a good reminder for the rest of us, too.

One evening as a newlywed, my  husband called me from work and said that he was bringing home a rescued puppy.  This puppy, said he, was very sweet and had been treated abysmally. He had heard that the rescuer was searching for a home and of course he could not turn the pup away.  So I prepared a little box for the pup, stuffed it with comfy old blankets, and awaited the inclusion of our new family member.  It was a long evening until the pup arrived, and I finally gave up and went to bed.

Slurp! I got a lick from a giant tongue on my face as I was quickly awakened by a monstrous-sized dog. Some pup! This was a half-husky, half shepherd mix that was one of the most beautiful creatures I have ever seen.  Despite his enormous size and paws, he was a very gentle young dog.  However, the little box appeared ludicrous compared to his enormity, and I knew I had been hoodwinked. But it worked.

Pete had a golden color and longer hair than a shepherd, more like a collie but solid golden.  The fur near his chest was proud and bold, and his ears were upright and attentive. If ever there existed a dog who was loving and appreciative, but filled with spirit, it was Pete. The picture that most captures the younger me in a happy, relaxed state is one with Pete. He brought happiness along with those enormous paws.

Another late evening (I was catching on by now), I received another call from my husband relating that he had found another little critter for me to adopt.  This one was a newborn kitten, and by newborn, I mean newborn as in left wet without the umbilical cord being cut.  My husband stumbled across him while working as a night watchman (he was a student at the time). He did not believe the poor little thing had any chance at all for survival, so he threw him in the water by the dock. To his amazement, the kitten started swimming.  Still believing that the kitty could not make it, he got a mop and held him under, thinking he was sparing him a slower death.  But the kitten bobbed up and started swimming again, so he scooped him up and brought him home, complete with instructions that the kitty needed to be fed every hour round the clock. He said if that kitty wanted to live that badly, he was going to give him the chance.

We used a toy baby’s bottle, made a hole in it, and fed the kitten goat’s milk.  I kept him on a warmed bed beside me and fed him hourly, round the clock.  I had to rub his tummy gently with my finger to help him expel waste.  This was some very intense bonding between Skeet, the kitty, and me. Pete was pretty interested in what was going on in the box, but he only peered inside and never touched the kit at all. As the kitten grew, Pete would raise up on his hind legs to catch a peek at him; before long they were sharing food dishes and playing together gently. Skeet was understandably attached to me and would stay at my side most of the time.

Pete had a very large fenced yard in which to roam at the time we brought him home. The six-foot high fence, however, could not contain him. I would see him circling around and around, until he would build up enough momentum to clear the fence. We then put up wiring on top of the fence. I recall looking out and seeing Pete looking like a mountain goat walking on the top of the fencing. No matter how many walks he went on, he yearned for more space. Eventually, despite our own broken hearts, it seemed kindest to give it to him. We found some people through friends that owned a large ranch in Northern California and they happily took Pete with them. Last we heard, he was in heaven with the large expanse of acreage and nature around his new home.  We were not destined to be his permanent guardians; we were his transition.

Skeet was another story. He wanted nothing more than to stay very close to me, forever. That is what I wanted, too. But we had to move at one point, and Skeet found that very difficult. We kept him indoors in the new house, but couldn’t find him anywhere. After a long search, he was discovered in a kitchen drawer. Somehow he had squeezed in from under the cabinet. He took up the entire space and I still cannot believe he jammed himself in that drawer, but it must have felt safe to him. Just like abused kids, this abandoned, nearly killed little spirit was wounded and insecure; he needed containment.  To look at him, all you would see is the most common gray Tabby; you would miss the tremendous spirit that kept him alive.  He rewarded me for the devotion I gave him every single day of his precious life.  He was that kind of loyal. I once heard it said that heaven is having all the dogs you ever loved come running up to you, to keep that loyalty and affection forever. I would add to that, not just the dogs, but all the critters. That would truly be heaven….please consider rescuing a shelter animal.

Meetup director working at the sanctuary

On twenty-five wooded acres in Forestburg, Texas is an animal rescue and sanctuary called Serenity Springs.  Forestburg is steeped in old west history; but there are lots of untold stories right in the sanctuary. Our vegan meetup goes out periodically to try to render some assistance, so I had perused their website prior to my first trip out to see the animals. Despite the website photos,  I was ill-prepared for all the animals (well over one hundred) and their amazing guardian, Terry DeGaw. Terry has been at this game of tending her flock for nearly twenty years now. She is a compassionate woman whose kindness has allowed many animals to survive and flourish in a peaceful setting when others tossed them aside. Many of the animals had been abused and neglected, or nearly slaughtered, prior to coming to Serenity Springs, so Terry truly offers them a second chance. It also means her days are long and hard, but you will never hear her complain. There are dozens of water troughs and bellies that need to be filled, and animals that need grooming, nursing, loving, spoiling.  Terry does it all.

Buddy abandoned

Behind the beautiful serene setting and the happy and healthy animals, lies tragedy and suffering.  This is a photo of Buddy, a beautiful little miniature horse that was left by the side of the road with no way to care for himself.  But once in the care of Terry, he quickly filled out and today is a sweet and feisty young gelding.  Some of the animals came to Serenity Springs because their people got tired of them, or had to move, or felt they could no longer afford their care.  For Terry, this is a lifetime commitment.  The only day off she has had in the past nearly twenty years was to take two days off for surgery.  She does not do just the bare minimum, either. When we joined her in feeding the animals, it was not a fast process, because Terry chats with each one and checks anything that seems amiss.  To sponsor Buddy or one of the other animals, go here.

Buddy today

Gyro

Terry DeGaw

The Sanctuary is a 503c non-profit organization, but Terry is not receiving much help.  She does offer sponsorship for the animals and a few do have sponsors. The sponsors send a monthly check to provide for their animal and often send treats to make that animal’s life extra special. When I arrived and approached the Keystone Klan, a group of farm pigs, they started nibbling on my shoes and chatting at me; I think they were scolding me for not bringing them the oatmeal cookies their sponsor usually provides. Next time I will know better than to come empty-handed!  Terry has a large family to feed, and the recession has not helped out much since, like most non-profits, donations are down. There are always vet bills as you might imagine, and the feed bills, and then the bills the rest of us have to pay just to keep a roof over our heads. Terry has to deal with those as well.  To make ends meet, she takes on another job in the evenings, at the local hospice organization. Comforting others til the very end of a very long day is typical of Terry.

Along with numerous farm and pot-belly pigs, there are cats, dogs (including a three-legged dog that can run and keep up with the others), a peacock, several chickens and roosters, cows, horses (including a blind horse), two miniature horses, donkeys, goats, and a variety of fowl that live at the sanctuary.  Some of the horses are in large paddocks, others roam around the property, always staying near other animals or humans.  After grooming the horses and delivering hay to animals staying on a nearby property, it was feeding time. This is a long process, because there are so many animals to feed.  Terry knows each and every one by name and will proudly tell you their personal history, no different than any proud parent.

Potbellies

Keystone Klan

Calypso

Chacka and Kia

Jazzy Joe

Pig barn

Bogart

The sanctuary is aptly named, for there is a sense of peacefulness that permeates the area. There is so much Tender Loving Care that you can tell just by walking about that the animals are loved. The pigs have igloos, barns, and shelters along with water troughs, feed troughs, and swimming pools.  There is an area looks like a pig spa where several pigs seemed to enjoy splashing about. One little character was walking around with his igloo on top, doing a good impression of a turtle. There are lots of trees and shade from the sun in each paddock and pen. It is very clean and well kept, despite the lack of help.  The dogs roam about freely and the cats own the back porch, where they have multi-level housing.  Some of the cats are not very sociable, so Terry just gives them their space.  All of them, though, as with all of the animals, were so lovable and deserving of their lives.  I think the only animal on the property that is not getting enough attention and care is Terry herself.  Let’s change that if we can!

Ways to help

Even if it is not possible to sponsor an animal, please consider giving what you can.  A $10 donation from several people will really help with vet and feed bills.

Click here to donate via Capital One:

To vote for Serenity Springs to receive part of a $25,000 grant, please go here.

To donate to the sanctuary using PayPal, go here.

For more information about donating or volunteering, contact Terry DeGaw:

email her at  serenitysprings@wisewb.com or call (940) 964-2318

]]> http://veganacious.com/2009/09/04/serenity-springs-sanctuary/feed/ 2 http://veganacious.com/2009/07/17/finding-sophia/ http://veganacious.com/2009/07/17/finding-sophia/#comments Fri, 17 Jul 2009 09:05:34 +0000 veganacious http://veganacious.com/?p=1727

Feral Friends

I used to work in a two-story building built around a courtyard. It was a series of small businesses sharing the center, filled with umbrellaed tables and chairs.  It was pretty easy to become friendly with colleagues in other offices; in fact, I walked at lunch with a woman in an attorney’s office, and got to know the entire staff there. Surrounding the building were acres of open fields, surrounded by other business properties and many busy suburban streets. The fields were shrubby and barren, with no source of shade or water – not too hospitable to life.  But amid the brown grass and thorns, there was a struggle for life taking place.

One day my fellow office worker noticed a scraggly cat scratching around in the shrubs.  The cat looked dissipated and wan, as if it was starving and barely hanging onto life.  Nearby was a very young cat, possibly the daughter of the first one.  After a while, she also noticed another older cat, a male, also struggling in the inhospitable terrain, so she decided to intervene. She carefully set about trying to trap the cats by enticing them with food and water, using a professional-grade trap and a ton of patience.  The entire office was aware of the drama unfolding – all of us invested in saving these feral cats, and the cats just as invested in avoiding us.

Animal Control

Unbeknownst to us, there was an antagonist in all this: cat haters.  The older female cat had evidently been impregnated, probably by the roving Tom, and delivered her kittens here and there among the office shrubs.  The entire office (geologists, engineers, lawyers) were out on their hands and knees, peering about  in the bushes, trying to find the kittens as the mother cat moved them.  Just when we thought we knew where they were, she would move them again. Meanwhile, not content to allow us to rescue the bunch of them, the antagonists called the local animal control folks and they took the babies away – without the mother – to the pound and probable doom. All that left was the Tom, the Mom, and the little Daughter.

My colleague, Lana, was not one to give up. Bless her, she spent over $200 going to the pound and bailing out the babies, then continued to try to trap the scraggly Mom. She eventually caught the Daughter, and the Mom was not long behind her.  It was in time for her to care for the young ones and get the whole bunch of them off to good homes. One of the geologists agreed to take a few of the kittens but unfortunately, his daughter proved to be allergic, so they came back onto the market. Finally, Lana kept the Mom and the kids moved in with her next door neighbor, keeping the family intact – all save the Tom.  He was older, and wiser, and despite continual attempts, he alluded us.  We always tried to look out for him but he was no way going to be anything but feral.

A Happy Ending

Once the Mama Kitty, as she came to be known, was given vet care (she nearly died, so it was a good thing we found her when we did,) and food and TLC, her transformation was absolutely incredible.  It was like finding Sophia Loren underneath a bag lady’s layers of clothes – this was a gorgeous cat. She adapted to the indoor life and spoiling that Lana gave her and continued, as did her kids, to thrive. She never seemed to miss the outdoors – after all, it nearly spelled death for her. She was truly a princess awaiting her time to rule. Anyone that can get engineers and lawyers on their knees must have some special gift – Mama Kitty had that.  She was royalty, we were her subjects. Isn’t that what cats always seem to know?

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