Good Night for Dogs in Puerto Rico

God bless the municipality of Manatee for sponsoring the first ever, if I heard right, really big dog training event in Puerto Rico. I had a blast.

Before the speeches began, as people assembled I meandered through the crowd saying hello to everybody. Siberian Huskies, a Great Dane, a Basenji, a Bulldog with a ton of personality were good to meet along with friendly people, who laughed goodheartedly at my Spanish. (It’s appropriate.) It seemed to me that there were quite a few young puppies. It’s not a good idea to teach adults and puppies in the same class for many reasons, so I suggested the division to Alma, who agreed. When I made that suggestion, I had counted twelve for the puppy class I would teach. No sweat, I thought even though I haven’t taught a class in five years. 

A crowd of more than sixty dogs and their people listened to opening speeches and introductions. We stood on the steps of a coliseum; the rules of the event were clearly stated by the ranking police officer. The organizing dog trainer, Alma Febus, announced where the puppies should gather. The training planned for outside had to suddenly, be moved inside do to rain that began no sooner than she announced the separation of classes, so Carlos Cardona, the officer in charge told us where the puppies would be meeting, a long narrow area where people wait to get inside the coliseum, but we were under a roof.

Have you ever looked at a situation and felt confident? Twelve puppies, a piece of chocolate! I entered the vestibule where the puppies awaited. Wall to wall people and pups greeted me. Holy! Holy!! “Just puppies, here,” I yelled in Spanish, “Solomente peritos, por favor!”

Nobody moved; this massive tangle just looked. Oh, my, what the!! I quickly grabbed a couple of cones, “People with puppies line up between the cones. People without dogs, please stand along the opposite wall.”    

As everybody shuffled into place, I counted puppy dogs. I stopped counting at forty puppies.  The place was crowded so I took a couple of cones further down and divided the class. 

Yes, forty in a class is overwhelming; who knew the pent up demand for dog training was so great?

Teniente Carlos Cardona and his staff should be congratulated for offering to the citizens of Manatee a program that they so obviously want.

Thanks to the efforts of my volunteer assistants: Joselito Moye, Officer Tanya Roman, Genesis Rodriguez, and a beautiful lady whose name I never got, but impressed me with her capability and calm demeanor. These people rock!!

Joselito is the bomb; he gave the class to a darn big group. Occasionally I’d run over to observe, and I have to tell you; the man did a fine job! He saved the day because I could not have done justice to forty in one group.

One of my goals in life is to improve our relationship with dogs. When I’m doing that, I’m having fun. After all these years, I’m still a dog lover.

Overview of Puerto Rico's Dog Situation

On my first trip to Puerto Rico I saw a dog in the street and said to my friend, Gloria, “Quick let’s go pick up that dog and take it to Animal Control.”

Gloria laughed, which I thought strange from a fellow dog lover.

“This isn't like Illinois,” is all she said and so the subject was forgotten. She showed off her island home. We fell in love. Soon we were living in our new island home, watching a Border Collie chase cars at the bottom of our driveway.

Whereas the states have coyote, raccoon, and fox, the island has free ranging dogs and cats, most obviously the dogs.

Picture twice a year the chaos of gang banging bitches on the street corner and elsewhere; followed by dazed starving pups wandering in the road – not nature’s finest moment.

Unlike truly feral creatures like fox, raccoon, and coyote, dogs just want to hang on the porch, bark alarm and be fed. Most belonged to someone as a puppy.

Since 2005 I’ve seen many dogs including Chi-Ping be dumped by their people. This sadly is the single largest source of dogs wandering our streets. Strange observation is that I've never seen a neutered animal dumped by an owner.

Discarded pets with little chance of survival wandering the beaches and roads in search of a meal, water, and a safe place to sleep, compete with seasoned street dogs. Life in paradise is harsh, but nature being prolific their numbers increase to the point that for health and safety; something must be done.

Historically, and not just here, some guy mixes up a poison cocktail, ameliorating the dog population problem for the moment. This practice outlawed by law 154 seems to have decreased.

I would love to know the number of dogs collected and euthanized each year. If anyone reading this knows, please, tell.

The way this was explained to me is that each pueblo has a dog collection fund. At I believe the amount is $50 per dog, the dog collection outfit contracted with the municipality collects and euthanizes dogs until it hits the limit at which time work ceases, until the next funding cycle. This I believe is the government’s answer for Animal Control in Puerto Rico.

Puerto Rico has a large population of animal lovers and advocates. Adrienne Galler Lastra, the president of Amigos de Los Animales de Puerto Rico, mentored me through my earliest days learning about the dog problems here.

 I am in awe of the rescuers, so many loving people, who take in an unbelievable number of stray dogs. They spend their lives caring for hundreds of dogs in their homes and making them available for adoption; it becomes their life.

The Satos, Puerto Rican Island Dogs have guardian angels, who make regular rounds feeding feral dogs.

No overview of the dog situation in Puerto Rico would be complete without acknowledging Animal Cruelty Investigators like Alma Febus or Iris Quinoines, President of OICA, the Organization of Animal Cruelty Investigators.

Spay/Neuter Clinics sponsored by various organizations like Amigos de Los Animales and PAWS are popping up all over the island.

I’m encouraged to see the love and level of involvement coming from the people. This island has a big heart.

Yesterday on my drive to San Juan the roads were littered with moms and puppies searching for food.

Arecibo Animal Activists Meet With Mayor's Office

Local Animal Activists met outside Arecibo City Hall on Monday August 25th to protest the rounding up and killing of street dogs without so much as a time for owners to claim their pet from the pound. Activist leaders meet with the Vice Mayor to discuss a moratorium on collecting dogs in areas where rescuers are working on trap, neuter and release programs to curb birth rates in dog populations, and what is the latest story about the public Arecibo Animal Control Shelter.

Inside the government officials gave their requirements for co-operating with the activists to not collect and euthanize colonies of dogs being cared for by the activists.

Outside a hard working cadre of activists spoke to people passing City Hall asking if they supported mass killing of animals living on the streets or if they supported a more humane way such as tarp, neuter and release.

Citizens on the street supported the humane treatment of animals by signing the petition.

The activist leaders questioned the current status of the Arecibo Animal Control Shelter, which has sat vacant for the last four years. Talk continues about the reopening of the shelter.

On a personal note, I have to tell you how impressed I was with the strength and heart of the dedicated people I met in Arecibo on Monday. I salute you for your effort. 

Traveling Veterinarians of Puerto Rico

Forty Veterinarians neutering 40 dogs three days a week for a year equals 249,600; that’ll put a dent in the critter population growth, so how do we get to that goal?  

Being clueless in Puerto Rico, I talked to my friend and local La Que Sabe, Alma Febus, whose direct, no shit approach to things I adore.

Alma said, “Before you think about getting forty vets, find out what’s happening with the two vets on the island, who have the travelling clinics. Are they busy with neutering, vaccinating; learn what’s going on with them.”

Did you know that Alma Febus was a member of the NYPD? She has that logical cop’s mind.

I’m the new kid on the block, what do the island activists want to know about the traveling Veterinarians of Puerto Rico?

QUESTIONS:

Where or how far will you travel?

How long in advance do we need to schedule a neuter/veterinary care day?

Contact information:

How is the day billed?

Cost per spay or castration, table of available treatments and charges. Pre advertised prices reduce misunderstandings and lost revenue.

For the benefit of the veterinarian providing this valuable service collaboration between rescues will provide the amount a vet needs in order to make a living.

Do the vets provide pre and post care handouts with the service list and prices?

The best location for a clinic day is? What should we look for?

What funding is available to subsidize a clinic day?

Prices need to be low enough that poor families will make a non essential purchase because it’s the right thing to do.

Who on your staff works with non profits to set up a clinic day?

I had the pleasure of seeing Dr. Cruz’s team in action in Pinones; two thumbs up for a fine team. Dr. Rivera has the other traveling set up, I haven’t met him yet.

 Wouldn’t you like to know more about them?  What should we ask?

The information will be shared, so we can keep these guys working, and then others will want to join them. Alma, you’re brilliant.

It’s easy to comment on the blog; I fixed the settings. What do we want to know?

 I’ll think of the good questions after, like I did when I interviewed Iris Quinones, President of OICA.

A Day in the Life of Animal Activist Alma Febus

The library filled with school kids from third to eight grade, a teacher announced, “I’d like to introduce you to Animal Activist Alma Febus.”

As if a spot light shone on her, Alma began to dazzle the kids introducing them to Gucci, the Puerto Rican Chihuahua in a dress and harness decorated with butterflies and flowers. On her signal, Bambi, Alma's Rottweiler Service Dog, who had been snoozing, came to heel position.

The kids ooow’ed and ah’ed when Alma had the massive Bambi stand so she could put the tiny Gucci in a sit on her back. Both dog’s black eyes shone with a desire to please Alma; the class looked on with rapt attention. Kids jiggled up and down with excitement, hands shook at Alma with questions, comments and “Can I pet the dog?”

Alma calmed the class with a short movie about an abandoned dog, after which Alma seemed to have a sixth sense about the children she selected to pet Bambi first. The first little girl’s face barely controlled her excitement with an “I love this dog,” look she pet so carefully, after which she danced back to her seat in bliss.

Alma’s experience showed as she dismissed the kids that are always the center of attention and zeroed in on a tiny boy, who bore the look of “I really need to touch this dog” on his face. Alma guided the child to the side of Bambi’s head, where she helped him stick out his hand to be sniffed before petting.  With the black fur in his hand, his eyes lit up behind thick glasses.

In one day Alma Febus, Animal Control Officer, Cruelty Investigator affected future attitudes of island people by educating the young today. Thanks, Alma, for all you do for the animals and the people, whose lives are enriched by the love of animals.

  

Anaplasmosis and Ehrlichiosis Strike by Chi-Ping

Lola started bleeding on carport floor. When mom came home, she studied Lola until she saw the blood dripping out of her nose. Where's the closest emergency veterinarian? After calling our Auntie Alma mom put Lola in the back of the SUV. She told me no, I couldn't go, but mom needs me, so I jumped in anyway. She told me get out, but that wasn't going to happen without a struggle, she saw how serious I was, so didn't waste time arguing, a good thing; blood now leaked out of Lola’s nose, she was weak.

I whimpered to let mom know my concerns. As much as I don’t usually like Lola, I snuggled next to her to keep her warm, mom sped down the twisty hill roads to the San Francisco de Asis Veterinary Hospital in Hatillo, where she told me firmly to stay in the car. The moon shined in through the roof mom left open for me. The smell of sick dogs made me shiver. Lola cried when they took her from mom, but was the only dog who seemed scarred, so I thought it was a good place for dogs.

 Mom brought me in the room when Lola went in the back to have blood drawn. When the doctor brought Lola back in the room with her head low, she looked like she could die. I stood in front of Lola, licked my lips and wagged me tail; don’t die Lola, you’re the only really big dog I can bully. I like you; don’t die.

Dr. Iris Vales, DVM, graduate of Ohio State took a deep breath, “There’s no easy way to say this,” she began. Mom’s eyes squeezed tight. “Be direct,” mom said in a subdued voice. The doctor looked sad, oh, no. That’s never good. My tail wagged little, short, fast, anxious waves. Mom and I both stared in her eyes, wondering what the vet would say. “We can do many heroic things and Lola, may still not make it.” The words hung in my brain; we just lost dad, and Lefty’s gone, well, he's not dead, but I miss him; now Lola, my mouth opened and closed in disbelief, as my tail jittered back and forth.

“Low platelets, low red blood cells, fever of more than one hundred five degrees,” Dr. Vales said as she showed mom the numbers. “Not enough oxygen to brain and vital organs; it’s not looking good. We could put her to sleep. It may be a kindness.”  

“If you treat her, what would you do?” Mom looked deep into the doctor’s face; she wanted to understand completely, she sat forward her head tilted slightly as the doctor spoke, “IV’s, antibiotics, Vincristine to grow platelets.” “How long before the Vincristine works?” mom interrupted. “Two days,” the doctor replied. “How about a transfusion; can you do that?”  The doctor nodded, but said, “Transfusion comes with its own risk.” To which mom said, “I know.” The doctor walked out the door to consult with a colleague, mom zoned out, so I walked around the room sniffing.

What’s a little dog to do about things? All I can do is sniff out what’s been going on in this room. I hope Lola doesn't die, and putting her to sleep doesn’t sound any better either. What’s mom going to do? I need to sniff the last little scent out of this corner, sniff, sniff.

Mom’s eyes opened, she smiled and reached down to pet me. I feel better already. Mom texted Adri and Alma, she says they are wise dog ladies. Whatever she read on the screen, her eyes half closed and her head nodded. She looked up as the doctor entered with a piece of paper in her hand, the estimate. People wonder what makes them different from us, money could be the answer. I jumped on the bench to sit next to mom. She took her glasses out to read the paper.  I felt her flinch. The doctor leaned against the examining table. Mom’s eyes studied the paper. I could tell by the doctor’s body language, she eagerly wanted to take care of Lola. Lola had a shot. The doctor’s aura said so, oh, mom!”

Mom saw it too, she smiled at the doctor as she told her to save Lola, she said she couldn't stand to lose another loved one that dad was more than enough loss, but they couldn't go over, she had no more money. It was late in the night when mom and I went home.    

Bad Day by Chi-Ping

The second Sunday in July began like any other; mom looked on the floor in the spare room to see if I had an accident, as we walked to the door. Blondie and I made our rounds inspecting the neighborhood. Lola, Lucky and Robert Redford stayed close to the house waiting to be fed. Blondie and I would be back before the third bowl hit the floor.

Some time later, we were sniffing around up the hill, when we heard mom scream and yell. Before we could get home she came flying, I mean going fast for her down the hill hollering, “Ayuda me!” My ears went back, it scared me. I jumped at her leg as she hurried back to our house. What was happening; I wanted to know. The door slammed in my face, when I tried to walk in with her. What’s wrong with her?

“Kirt,Kirt!,” mom cried, then we ran to the patio outside the bedroom windows. I couldn't hear dad. His scent changed, we knew he was in trouble. Lucky and Red hid in the bushes nearby with wide eyes peering out. Blondie, Lola and I went into guard mode.

A man in a uniform stayed in his car in front of the house. We bounced and barked surrounding the car. “No,” mom commanded in a tone that set us back on our tails. “Hurry, hurry!” she repeated to the man over and over again. Soon other people arrived. Lola and the puppies barked, defending the door. Lucky’s hackles were up like the little boy was seriously defending his home. Lola barked, but I could tell she wasn't too sure about what she was doing. Mom told us, “NO,” before and that was good enough for me and Blondie; we know the woman. What was wrong with dad? His scent lacked vital force.

Mom yelled in Spanish and in English at people in uniforms. We stood ready to protect, but when mom started crying we didn’t know which way to go. We wanted to get in the house to comfort her. Mom and dad’s friends, the dog lover ladies, Alma and Adri arrived. Mom screamed and cried while telling them that the uniformed people wouldn’t help dad.

People from the neighborhood filled the yard and began coming into the house. Blondie, Lucky and I streaked in with some. A uniformed man waived us away from the bedroom with dad, mom, friends and uniformed people. Blondie and I know death when we smell it. Lucky ran outside to hide under the car. The only other death he ever smelled was his sister a couple of weeks ago.

It can’t be dad; he’s the greatest dad in the world. His scent was flat. Mom sobbed, wailing so hard I waited for her to howl, so I could howl with her. The uniforms retreated to the porch for a smoke. Blondie tiptoed into the bedroom, where dad sat slumped over in his wheelchair, ash grey. I stood there looking up at him, when my turn came. No more scratches behind the ears from those hands. No more sweet words from his lips. My tail dropped to the lowest, since the day I was dumped here.  I touched my nose to his leg to fill it with his scent one last time.

Farewell, friend to all, father of the furry kidz and all round great guy,

Clure “Kirt” Carr, July 14, 2013 RIP

We love you,

Chi-Ping, Blondie, Smoki, Lucky, Robert Redford, Lola

And “Mom”