Run Opal, Run…and I REALLY Mean It This Time!!!!

Ladies and Gentlemen, service dog handlers, dog lovers, friends and readers; I am pleased and proud to announce that HRM (Halifax Regional Municipality) has approved funding (via a recommendation from the HRM Advisory Committee for Persons with Disabilities) in the amount of $20,000. towards the creation of an off leash dog park which service dogs and their handlers will have priority use of.   What does this mean? Guide dogs, hearing dogs, special skills dogs, other service dogs and their mums and dads will have a safe, fenced place to go and exercise OFF LEASH. An existing site, already partially fenced has been secured.  The funding will allow for total fencing,  clearing of the area, addition of some seating and refuse bins and posting signs. The location is more than suitable, with bus and ferry service routes nearby. Service dog handlers who require parking will be accommodated as well. Use is not exclusive to service dogs, however signs will indicated that pet dog owners must vacate when a service dog handler wants to use it. A public awareness and education campaign will  hopefully ensure that this is a workable stipulation. The parks department will take care of maintenance.

I have worked on this proposal through its various incarnations over the last two years that I have been on the ACPD, and more so in recent months as the committee’s chairperson. When this dog park is finally established, it will be a first in Canada.  We are the city to watch. We will be the model for all other initiatives seeking  to establish similar facilities in Canadian cities.

When I finally pronounced the outcome of the motion today, Opal rose and stretched. Sure, I know that she was bored, but I like to think that she was showing a little interest. I KNOW she will when I take her to the dog park next year (hopefully fully functional by then) and let her free run. She will go foolish!

A Sobering Reminder

Yesterday, my sweetie’s apartment building went up in flames. Luckily, no one was injured. However, 70 residents (mostly elderly) are without a home until further notice.  My Significant Other heard the fire alarm go off and went outdoors to investigate. This building is prone to false alarms.  In the minutes that L stepped out of the building people started to stream out. The fire department arrived simultaneously, The story is that  the apartment nearest the fire triggered the smoke detector. It was unoccupied at the time. However, a tenant heard the endless buzzing and summoned the super.  He entered the apartment and faced a blaze, and yelled for the tenant to pull the fire alarm and call the fire department. My sweetie called (from a stranger’s cell phone) to give me the news. Standing in shock, without a jacket, ID, keys, or Meerah the cat, L was not allowed to return into the building.  Most residents were housed by the Red Cross at a local arena.  Meerah? L was told that all cats would be collected by the SPCA’s staff, once the fire fighters declared it safe, with the most vulnerable (nearest the danger)  being rescued first.  Dazed and without a worldly possession,  L learned this morning  that little Meerah had been rescued last night,  then taken to the SPCA  Emergency shelter until morning, then transferred to a vet across town for examination. The cat was treated for dehydration and returned to the SPCA shelter where she remains with the other rescued cats until further notice.  A friend of ours who lives in the same building and who was also forced to leave her cat behind, learned, to her horror this morning that somehow her cat was not in the apartment when the SPCA rescue team went in to find her.

Last week, L checked my smoke detector when I complained that it should have gone off after I dropped food on the stove’s burner and did not.  L urged me to report it. I did so quickly (I am the ultra-prepared person when it comes to potential disaster). My big mistake, was not insisting that it be checked immediately by an electrician. So, today, after my seven thousand phone calls on L’s behalf (to the Insurance, the Red Cross, the SPCA, the EMO…) I picked up the receiver to make one more call; “come fix this thing today or I will call the fire Marshall”, I advised my landlord very forcefully. My defective smoke detector was taken away and a new one installed by an electrician within 1 hour.

There are some things too precious to conceive loosing,  including my animals’ lives and my own.  I urge you all to check your smoke alarms immediately. If you do not have a kit ready to take out your door when a fire alarm goes off, get one together. Include ID, medication, important numbers and papers…anything you would need to evacuate.  Have a plan to evacuate WITH your animals and be ready to do so any time the alarm goes. Know where the carrier is for your cat. Be ready to get it out quickly, loading it with the cat, gathering the bag and dog and getting  OUT.  Practice doing so until you can do it in your sleep.

Like Cats and Dogs

I have had dogs and cats in my life since I was a child… but never both species at the same time.  That would all change when I decided to get a Guide dog in 2005. My cat, Little Lucy, did not seem to know or care what I was going on about when I broke the news to her. I had seven months or so to ‘plan’ before I left for Ontario (to attend the Guide dog training) before the big convergence of dog and cat.  More accurately, I had seven months to fret and worry about the imminent demise of my cat. Sometimes, I varied my paranoid ideology with visions of a big dog being clawed into bloody submission by Lucy. I had no hard and fast research to back up my notion that there would be trouble; just the usual stereotypical references to ‘fighting like cats and dogs’ that I had been exposed to. My friends, family members, neighbours, and the trainers at Canadian Guide Dogs for the Blind were patient with me as I asked probing questions and tenaciously sought advice like a dog with a meaty bone. They pointed out the obvious; Lucy would be ‘upset’ for a while.  Then there were things that launched me into a frenzy of home-preparedness activity; chiefly, the installation of a device (rope, hook and eye) on the bathroom door. This would, in theory, leave enough of an opening to allow Lucy to enter the bathroom and access her food, but very cleverly, keep out the dog I was to come home with. I had dismissed one brainiac’s idea of cutting a cat hole in my door… I was responsible for damages to the flat if we moved. I jigged the device without difficulty. It was the LENGTH of the rope that nearly launched a United Nations summit. I had no idea what size dog I would be coming home with, but I did not think it would be too small a dog. Yet, my nephew insisted I shorten the rope and limit the access space every time he came over to visit and passed comment on my ‘rig’. By the time I was done, I felt certain that a Miniature Schnauzer could not squeeze into my bathroom. There was more. I spent an entire 24 hour period trying to coax Lucy to pee in her new litter box. Again, after much consultation, it seemed advisable to up-grade to the covered type of box. I  recall sitting outside the new,  deluxe model with Lucy in the middle of the night, waving treats and begging her to ‘try it’. She would burst, I thought, feeling helpless as I listened to her cry in frustration.  Once I figured out that the ‘door’ (flap on the litter-box) was scaring her, I removed it and resumed my plea. Her success overwhelmed me. I felt like a mum whose kid has finally been potty-trained. She was showered with praise and love.   It was not easy to leave Lucy with my friend, Alice for a month while I was in Manotick.  Something odd happened when I boarded the flight to Ottawa…I  almost completely put thoughts of Lucy out of my mind. That was a good thing, because Guide dog training is very demanding. It was not until Opal and I were on the return flight to Halifax, that I really gave much thought to Lucy again.  Opal and I had a few days alone before Lucy was due back home. I did not give her much thought during those few days either. Opal and I were shattered. It was all we could do to eat, sleep, groom, and relieve ourselves. It’s a little hazy now, but when Lucy arrived home with Alice in the carrier (and her van full of ’stuff’ –litter-box, dishes, grooming tools, bed, condo, body pillow, food etc),  she bolted for the bookcase as she first set eyes on Opal’s gigantic black head. There was some minor screeching.  I turned to Alice and said, “That went pretty well, don’t you think?”. In the days to come, Opal and Lucy would eventually learn about each other. That’s what animals do. They sort each other out. Opal (hopeless optimist that she is) longed to play with the ‘new kid’. That would take a while… 18 months actually. Now, two years later, Lucy is quite fond of Opal. Lucy knows that she is smaller and physically vulnerable, yet she also knows that she is in charge (though I’M in charge of both of them). Lucy will only drink out of Opal’s dish. She likes to drag off Opal’s bones and toys to the blanket which she also appropriated from Opal, but will share sometimes. They sniff one another to no end (mostly at each other’s ends aka butts). When one is not feeling well, the other is very concerned. Opal tore her dew claw 18 months ago and had it removed. Her foot was bandaged and she was all drugged up when we finally returned home from the vet. This was Lucy’s shining moment. She came over to Opal, licked her bandaged paw and purred, as though saying, “Wow, what happened to you? Can I help?” Opal licked Lucy’s head in appreciation and we all fell asleep on the floor together, huddled in solidarity. So, if you are worried about bringing a cat or dog into a home where one already resides, my wise advice is; be prepared, be observant, be patient, and when they are merged, let them sort one another out!

Wrong Number Goes Right

Mothers Day came and went without fanfare in my home. I had hoped for the requisite breakfast in bed from my girls, but no such luck. All I got was the usual kiss from Opal at 5 am and a lame excuse about “not being able to operate the toaster with their paws” from both Lucy and Opal.  Halifax mothers had pretty awful weather yesterday.  Some areas had wet SNOW! For the most part it was heavy rain. The kind we describe as ’sideways’ rain. I donned my rain suit and set out for church with Opal. The UU’s were in good form. Someone did a presentation on Falun Gong. I was a little bored (nothing like a Power Point presentation to put a blind person to sleep).  I would have enjoyed knowing how to do the exercises, but the person giving instruction had a pathetic ability for verbal description. I sat and listened to the Chinese-type music instead. After the service, I happily handed a copy of the new Pet Country Magazine to my friend.  It features a story and pictures about Opal and me.  A non-eventful kinda day until….the phone rang. It was a wrong number. Instead of saying, “sorry, wrong number”  (like Barbara Stanwyck in the move with the same name), I got into a half-hour conversation with Elan from Orrilia, Ontario (we eventually got to know a little about each other). My first comment was on the town of Orrilia, which all good Canadians know from Stephen Leacock fame  (Canadian writer of humourous novels and short stories). She was looking for a dental hygienist with the same last name as mine, and the same first initial.  Our chat took us into odd territory.  I discovered that we might know the same blind fella who plays the bagpipes in Halifax, and that her father is a dentist.  She told me that the weather in Ontario is expected to get better (good news for my upcoming trip), and that her husband has an unpronounceable Polish name. Her children are very young (one made a clay vase in daycare as a mothers day gift). We exchange e-addresses and I wished her well. Wrong number? Not really.

Horrific Animal Cruelty Incident…How did this happen?

Yesterday, the media broke a story here in Nova Scotia, that has everyone reeling.  Reports revealed that over one hundred animals, including 80 cats and 27 dogs, were rescued from a site which had been operating as some sort of ‘animal shelter’ in Port Hastings, Nova Scotia.   The SPCA had been trying to investigate this situation for several months.  It was not until last Sunday, that they had the legal authority to search the premises.  When their team of workers, along with RCMP officers, entered the Celtic Pet Rescue centre, they were horrified to find two building full of animals in deplorable conditions.  Cats and dogs were lying about in toxic filth. The stench of ammonia was so bad, that some of the workers were not able to proceed.   A number of animals were found dead.  The basement was filled with sewage where animals lay. Cats were so encrusted with feces, that their colour could not be determined until they were taken away and bathed for hours. A dog and her nine puppies were found in a crate, hidden by boxes, nursing her pups.  It was estimated that many of the animals had not been attended for over sixty hours.  SPCA workers were shocked (and they don’t shock easily) by the scene.  They had anticipated a rescue of 30 or so animals and ended up with a scene they had not expected or prepared for. The situation necessitated two trips to remove the animals.  The cats and dogs were taken to sites in Halifax and Dartmouth, for the most part, and work began to evaluate their condition and treat them.  Nine cats were found to have Feline Leukemia. The response has been overwhelming from concerned animal advocates.  Even people who are not big animal lovers have expressed sadness and concern, upon hearing the news.  Offers of veterinary care, donations, and requests to adopt have poured in.  Of course, the first question on everyone’s mind, is HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?  The woman who was granted a license to operate an ‘animal shelter’, has not been charged yet, though public outrage will undoubtedly result in a careful investigation on the part of the authorities.  It is expected that charges will be laid. Background information on the operator of this ’shelter’, is sketchy.  The SPCA is the only organization that has the right to actively investigate and seize animals in such circumstances in Nova Scotia.  Their resources are limited and their powers are also not extensive.  The woman who applied for, and received a lisence to operate this place, is reported to have met standards to open.  How and why conditions deteriorated is unknown.  Without legal authority, it was not until recently that the SPCA were granted a warrent to enter, even though they had requested permission to examine the site, and were denied. They could not act.  If an adult is suspected of physical abuse or neglect of a child, the system moves very quickly.  Obviously, society’s conscience and values, do not provide for the same intense scrutiny and care for animals,  as it does for children. We can’t seem to strike a balance. Comment?