My Name is Sam

After I was discharged from the Navy, Jim and I moved back to Detroit to use our GI bill benefits to get some schooling. Jim was going for a degree in Electronics and I, after much debating, decided to get mine in Computer Science.

One of the classes that was a requirement was Speech. Like many people, I had no fondness for getting up in front of people for any reason, let alone to be the center of attention as I stuttered my way through some unfamiliar subject. But I couldn't get out of the requirement, and so I found myself in my last semester before graduation with Speech as one of my classes.

On the first day of class our professor explained to us that he was going to leave the subject matter of our talks up to us, but he was going to provide the motivation of the speech. We would be responsible for six speeches, each with a different motivation. For instance, our first speech's purpose was to inform. He advised us to pick subjects that we were interested in and knowledgeable about. I decided to center my six speeches around animals, especially dogs.

For my first speech to inform, I talked about the equestrian art of dressage. For my speech to demonstrate, I brought my German Shepherd, Bodger, to class and demonstrated obedience commands. Finally the semester was almost over and I had but one more speech to give. This speech was to take the place of a written final exam and was to count for fifty percent of our grade. The speeches motivation was to persuade.After agonizing over a subject matter, and keeping with my animal theme, I decided on the topic of spaying and neutering pets. My goal was to try to persuade my classmates to neuter their pets, so I started researching the topic. There was plenty of material, articles that told of the millions of dogs and cats that were euthanized every year; of supposedly beloved pets that were turned in to various animal control facilities for thelamest of reasons, or worse, dropped off far from home, bewildered and scared. Death was usually a blessing. The final speech was looming closer, but I felt well prepared. Mynotes were full of facts and statistics that I felt sure would motivate even the most naive of pet owners to succumb to my plea.

A couple of days before our speeches were due, I had the bright idea of going to the local branch of the Humane Society and borrowing a puppy to use as a sort of a visual aid. I called the Humane Society and explained what I wanted. They were very happy to accommodate me. I made arrangements to pick up a puppy the day before my speech. The day before my speech, I went to pick up the puppy. I was feeling very confident. I could quote all the statistics and numbers without ever looking at my notes. The puppy, I felt, would add the final emotional touch. When I arrived at the Humane Society I was met by a young guy named Ron. He explained that he was the public relations person for the Humane Society. He was very excited about my speech and asked if I would like a tour of the facilities before I picked up the puppy. I enthusiastically agreed. We started out in the reception area, which was the general public's initial encounter with the Humane Society. The lobby was full, mostly with people dropping off various animals that they no longer wanted Ron explained to me that this branch of the Humane Society took in about fifty animals a day and adopted out twenty.

As we stood there I heard snatches of conversation: "I can't keep him, he digs holes in my garden." "They are such cute puppies, I know you will have no trouble finding homes for them." "She is wild, I can't control her." I heard one of Humane Society's volunteer explain to the lady with the litter of puppies that the Society was filled with puppies and that these puppies, being black, would immediately be put to sleep. Black puppies, sheexplained, had little chance of being adopted. The woman who brought the puppies in just shrugged, "I can't help it," she whined. "They are getting too big. I don't have room for them."

We left the reception area. Ron led me into the staging area where all the incoming animals were evaluated for adoptability. Over half never even made it to the adoption center. There were just too many. Not only were people bringing in their own animals, but strays were also dropped off. By law the Humane Society had to hold a stray for three days. If the animal was not claimed by then, it was euthanized, since there was no background information on the animal. There were already too many animals that had a known history eagerly provided by their soon to be ex-owners. As we went through the different areas, I felt more and more depressed. No amount of statistics, could take the place of seeing the reality of what this throw-away attitude did to the living, breathing animal. It was over overwhelming.

Finally Ron stopped in front of a closed door. "That's it," he said, "except for this." I read the sign on the door. "Euthanization Area." "Do you want to see one?" he asked.

Before I could decline, he interjected, "You really should. You can't tell the whole story unless you experience the end." I reluctantly agreed. "Good." He said " I already cleared it and Peggy is expecting you." He knocked firmly on the door. It was opened immediately by a middle aged woman in a white lab coat. "Here's the girl I was telling you about,"Ron explained. Peggy looked me over. "Well I'll leave you here with Peggy and meet you in the reception area in about fifteen minutes. I'll have the puppy ready." With that Ron departed, leaving me standing in front of the stern-looking Peggy.

Peggy motioned me in. As I walked into the room, I gave an audible gasp. The room was small and spartan. There were a couple of cages on the wall and a cabinet with syringes and vials of a clear liquid. In the middle of the room was an examining table with a rubber mat on top. There were two doors other than the one I had entered. Both were closed. One said to incinerator room, and the other had no sign, but I could hear various animals noises coming from behind the closed door. In the back of the room, near thedoor that was marked incinerator were the objects that caused my distress: twowheelbarrows, filled with the bodies of dead kittens and puppies. I stared in horror. Nothing had prepared me for this. I felt my legs grow weak and my breathing become rapid and shallow. I wanted to run from that room, screaming.

Peggy seemed not to notice my state of shock. She started talking about the euthanization process, but I wasn't hearing her. I could not tear my gaze away from the wheelbarrows and those dozens of pathetic little bodies. Finally, Peggy seemed to notice that I was not paying attention to her. "Are you listening?" she asked irritably. "I'm only going to go through this once." I tore my gaze from the back of the room and looked at her. I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing would come out, so I nodded. She told me that behind the unmarked door were the animals that were scheduled for euthanasia that day. She picked up a chart that was hanging from the wall. "One fifty three is next," she said as she looked at the chart. "I'll go get him." She laid down the chart on the examining table and started for the unmarked door. Before she got to the door she stopped and turned around. "You aren't going to get hysterical, are you?" she asked, "Because that will only upset the animals." I shook my head. I had not said a word since I walked into that room. I still felt unsure if I would be able to without breaking down into tears.

As Peggy opened the unmarked door I peered into the room beyond. It was a small room, but the walls were lined and stacked with cages. It looked like they were all occupied. Peggy opened the door of one of the lower cages and removed the occupant. From what I could see it looked like a medium-sized dog. She attached a leash and ushered the dog into the room in which I stood.

As Peggy brought the dog into the room I could see that the dog was no more than a puppy, maybe five or six months old. The pup looked to be across between a Lab and a German shepherd. He was mostly black, with a small amount of tan above his eyes and on his feet. He was very excited and bouncing up and down, trying to sniff everything in this new environment. Peggy lifted the pup onto the table. She had a card in her hand, which she laid on the table next to me. I read the card. It said that number one fifty three was a mixed Shepherd, six months old. He was surrendered two days ago by a family. Reason of surrender was given as "jumps on children." At the bottom was a note that said "Name: Sam."

Peggy was quick and efficient, from lots of practice, I guessed. She laid one fifty three down on his side and tied a rubber tourniquet around his front leg. She turned to fill the syringe from the vial of clear liquid. All this time I was standing at the head of the table. I could see the moment that one fifty three went from a curious puppy to a terrifiedpuppy. He did not like being held down and he started to struggle.

It was then that I finally found my voice. I bent over the struggling puppy and whispered "Sam. Your name is Sam." At the sound of his name Sam quit struggling. He wagged his tail tentatively and his soft pink tongue darted out and licked my hand. And that is how he spent his last moment. I watched his eyes fade from hopefulness to nothingness. It was over very quickly. I had never even seen Peggy give the lethal shot. The tears could not be contained any longer. I kept my head down so as not to embarrass myself in front of the stoic Peggy. My tears fell onto the still body on the table.

"Now you know," Peggy said softly. Then she turned away. "Ron will be waiting for you."I left the room. Although it seemed like it had been hours, only fifteen minutes had gone by since Ron had left me at the door. I made my way back to the reception area. True to his word, Ron had the puppy all ready to go.

After giving me some instructions about what to feed the puppy, he handed the carrying cage over to me and wished me good luck on my speech.

-Author Unknown

Dogs can be so disgusting

My dog threw up a big pile of grass and whatever, and before I could find it and clean it up, the other dog ate it.

I guess this could go on indefinately and I'll never have to clean it up.

Another Reunion!! PeeWee is Home

PeeWee, a JRT from Chalmette was reunited with his family this morning at the St. Bernard Parish Animal Control. PeeWee has been loved and fostered by Robin of ARNO for many months, and we finally located his family yesterday.

This is an especially joyful reunion because his family was told that he had died.

More about the story of PeeWee and the family's other two dogs will be posted here soon. I just opened the email from Ceily with the reunion photos and wanted to share them.

UDDATE on Reunion of Gideon & his family

There was an accurate version of Gideon's reunion story in today's Columbus, OH Dispatch that tells the way it really happened.

Click here to read the article.

Watch the video of the reunion of Gideon with his family. Just ignore what the anchorman says. It's not true.

An unusual friendship from a disaster

According to the BBC, the hippo is about 1 year old and was found alone and dehydrated near the Indian Ocean in Kenya. He was taken to a wildlife enclosure near Mombassa where keepers have named him Owen. He and a 100-year-old tortoise named Mzee struck up a friendship and have been partners ever since. Keepers say they are inseparable and that the tortoise has been mothering the baby hippo.


NAIROBI (AFP) - A baby hippopotamus that survived the tsunami waves on the Kenyan coast has formed a strong bond with a giant male century-old tortoise, in an animal facility in the port city of Mombassa , officials said.

The hippopotamus, nicknamed ! Owen and weighing about 300 kilograms (650 pounds), was swept down Sabaki River into the Indian Ocean , then forced back to shore when tsunami waves struck the Kenyan coast on December 26, before wildlife rangers rescued him.

"It is incredible. A-less-than-a-year-old hippo has adopted a male tortoise, about a century old, and the tortoise seems to be very happy with being a 'mother'," ecologist Paula Kahumbu, who is in charge of Lafarge Park , told AFP.

"After it was swept and lost its mother, the hippo was traumatized. It had to look for something to be a surrogate mother. Fortunately, it landed on the tortoise and established a strong bond. They swim, eat and sleep together," the ecologist added.

"The hippo follows the tortoise exactly the way it follows its mother. If somebody approaches the tortoise, the hippo becomes aggressive, as if protecting its biological mother," Kahumbu added.

"The hippo is a young baby, he was left at a very tender! age and by nature, hippos are social animals that like to stay with their mothers for four years," he explained.

We Are Their Heroes

Copyright Jim Willis 2001

If you worry that you have not made a difference,
you have,
for only those who do not worry about it
have not.

If you feel overwhelmed,
if the weight of problems is too heavy to bear,
remember it is a shared burden
and the strength of numbers can accomplish much.

If you think society and government are blind,
it only serves to remind that we need to change one mind at a time,
one law after another.

We effect change by cooperation, not by isolation.

If you consider that we cannot save them all,
and what difference does one make?,
you ought to know the joy of the one who is saved.

Mourn those we cannot save,
it is a eulogy to their being.
Do not let their loss be in vain.

Be kind to yourself,
remember your needs
and those of your family and friends of every species.

If you give everything,
what will you have left for yourself,
or for them?

Strive to be happy and healthy.
You are needed.

Achieving balance in life is a lifelong struggle.

We who help those
who do not have all that they need
should be among the most grateful for what we have.

Be proud of your accomplishments, not your opinions.

The quality of your efforts is more important than the quantity.

Forgive your own deficiencies -
sometimes your caring is sufficient.
Everyone can do something,
it is up to you to do the thing you can.

A kind word and a gentle touch can change a life.

If a seething anger wells up within you
because people are the problem,
remember your humanity
and that people are also the solution.

Concentrate on specific needs,
pay attention to the individual -
they make up the whole.

See beyond the unlovable,
the unattractive,
the impure and the wounded -
see that their spirit is as deserving as the rest.

Help them heal.

Their eyes are windows to their soul
and the mirror of your sincerity.

All species, all beings, share this Earth in a chain of life.
Care more about what makes us alike than what separates us.

Policies, rules and regulations are not infallible.
Apply them judiciously, interpret them wisely.

No decision based purely on money is ever the right one.
Listen to your heart.
Sometimes we have to do that which we are most afraid of.

Be true to yourself and your beliefs.
Family may abandon you,
friends may disappoint you,
strangers will ridicule you.

People shun what they do not understand.
Help them to understand - kindly, softly, gently.

Those who do not respect all life are to be pitied.

Often the wrongdoer is as in need of help as his victims.

Forgive, then teach by example.
Educate yourself or you cannot hope to teach others.

No action based in hatred is ever right
and anger drowns out wisdom.

Yours may be a voice crying in the wilderness,
make it a voice to be respected.

Listen more than you talk,
be courteous and reliable.

Learn to ask for help.
Never waiver from the truth.

Know that it takes a lot of strength to cry
and with every defeat, we learn.

All Creation celebrates that which is in its own best interest.

The Children are our hope - nurture them.

Nature is our legacy - protect it.
The Animals are our brethren - learn from them.
Your rewards will not be material, but they will be meaningful,
and the courage of your convictions can survive anything.

We are small boats cast adrift on a cruel sea,
but someday the tide will turn toward a safe harbor.

No matter how dark the storm clouds,
or deep the pain of heartbreak -
never forget:

We are their heroes.

Dedicated to all who have worked for change.
May your efforts be blessed.
You have made a difference.

Where Are You Now

Months go by and still no word
the loss is great
this void absurd
where are you now my little friend
this waiting hurts, there is no end
does your heart ache for me as well
do thoughts of me make your heart swell
I remember oh so sweet
the pitter patter of your feet
the way your eyes lit up with joy
when you found your special toy
Loving moments in my arms
when I could not resist your charms
They came and took you far away
they say I'm bad, you're gone to stay
But I will live another day.....
I am not dead, and they will pay
For you know in your little heart
that we did not choose to part
When will this nitemare end
Where are you now my little friend?

Written for all the victims of Katrina who are still searching for their babies.
Judy Gagnon
04/27/06

Animal abuser database and website

People/Pet March to Capitol on Monday

VERY IMPORTANT!

Monday, April 17th, at 2:30 p.m. is the People/Pet March and Rally to the Capitol steps in Baton Rouge. Please plan to be there by 2:15 p.m. It's essential to have a large turnout for this event

Feel free to bring along your dog - however, if your dog is not one to enjoy social situations, please leave him/her at home. Having stressed or aggressive or overly-hyper dogs there will be worse than no dogs. Shannon has suggested marching with an empty leash in memory of a Katrina pet who died ... or is still missing ... or has not yet been reunited. Or you can carry a stuffed dog or cat or march with a photo or poster of a pet. If you want to bring your cat, please make sure it is in a cat carrier.

Please pass this on to all pet owners you know in Louisiana - those affected by Katrina as well as those who evacuated with their pets or whose pets were found and reunited.

The Animals' Savior

I looked at all the caged animals in the shelter - the cast-offs of human society. I saw in their eyes love and hope, fear and dread, sadness and betrayal.

And I was angry. "God", I said, "This is terrible! Why don't You do something?"

God was silent a moment, and then He spoke softly. "I have done something", He replied.

"I created you."

-Jim Willis

Another pet martyr...oops, I mean pet lover

“I’m just trying to find good families for some very wonderful animals"

Robyn Urman has been a pet lover all her life! In fact she is so enamored with the furry creatures that she spends much of her time rescuing those in need.

She started a pet rescue organization eight years ago called Pet Resq Inc. Hours after Hurricane Katrina hit the Gulf Coast, she was on her way to rescue the homeless pets of New Orleans, one of whom was adopted by a Rye Neck teacher.

Ms. Urman has been working with pets for 20 years. She went down to the Gulf Coast three times to rescue pets that were lost in Hurricane Katrina. In all, she rescued 58 animals and within a few days 38 of those pets found foster homes. Ms. Urman picked up dogs, cats, roosters,and parrots. “I’m just trying to find good families for some very wonderful animals,” she said.

In addition to finding small animals, Ms.Urman fed and watered dozens of horses and found new boarding places for them while in New Orleans. Ms. Urman is clearly someone who believes in doing good in the world. “Every little bit helps,” she explained, “even if it’s not for animals.”

Ms. Urman has seven of her own pets, three dogs and four cats. Her oldest dog is named “Pebbles” and is 10 years old. Her oldest cat, Wookie, is 15. Ms. Urman doesn’t have a favorite pet, she loves all her pets equally, she said.

Ms. Mara Cohen, a Rye Neck School District language teacher who teaches French, Spanish, and Italian at Bellows, adopted a Katrina pet recently, a five year old dog. “He was found under a house in the 9th Ward of New Orleans on September 19, three weeks after the hurricane struck,” Ms. Cohen said. “It is quite a miracle that he is still alive.”

Ms. Cohen was looking for a new pet when she heard about the dozens of homeless animals in the south following Hurricane Katrina. “My sister told me about a group of dogs that had been rescued and brought to her town,” Ms. Cohen said. She contacted Ms. Urman’s organization after that conversation.

Pet Resq Inc. continues to look for places for animals. If you want to adopt a pet or give a generous donation to the organization, visit the website www.petresqinc.petfinders.org. These furry creatures are just waiting to be adopted and loved.


PetResQ Inc.
24 W. Railroad Avenue, Suite 172
Tenafly NJ 07670
Email

Why does this dog look so sad? Maybe because he misses his real owners who had to evacuate to a shelter and believed they would be back home in 2 days. He was found in the 9th Ward in case he looks familiar to anyone.

The male Cairn Terrier below is available for adoption - anyone recognize him?

On computers, morality and stolen pets

One of the tragic realities of the past seven months is that while the work of coordinating animal rescue, delivery of food and other supplies to shelters and staging areas, and tracking down the rescued animals was being done by a small army of us working from our computers, the people who evacuated without their pets - the people that all this effort has been for - often did not have internet access for many weeks or months.

Many were in shelters for a long time, or with family who did not have a computer.

In the 2002 State New Economy Index, Louisiana ranked #49 and Mississippli ranked #50 in percentage of internet users. Even though the report is based on data from a few years pre-Katrina, and more households had internet access by last summer, that was also true in all the other states, so the overall ranking is probably the same.

This is important information - the two states that were devestated by Katrina have the lowest percentage of people who have and use computers. So when these people finally landed on dry ground and began to deal with the myriad of problems and issues, they did not necessarily run to the nearest computer to look for their pets. Many of them didn't even know that their pet was on the internet (it has never been a requirement of pet ownership to also own a computer).

Therefore, deciding not to return someone's pet because it had heartworms or was not spayed or neutered or because its fur was matted is nothing more than one person's MORALITY. It is not the law. The law is and will be on the side of the pet's legal owner; the person who was forced to evacuate without it.

So, a word of advise/warning to those still refusing to return pets to their rightful owners in New Orleans: several more lawsuits are being filed. The Chopper case in NJ was just the beginning, but a good precedent. If you are one of the many fosters, rescuers or shelters that has been asked to return a pet and you have refused, you may be the next to be sued. Or the one after that. And not only will you be ordered to return the pet (the judge will not care about heartworms or reproductive apparatus) but you will also be required to pay all legal fees and court costs. If you are a small rescue group, this will likely do you in. If you're an individual - one of those who decided to take home a 4-legged Katrina souvenir, court papers will be served at your place of employment. The lawsuit will result in as much local media coverage as possible. In the long run, it will be best for you to make arrangements to get the pet returned and go find yourself another kitty or dog. Preferably one that actually needs a new home.

Man faces eviction for owning a pitbull

By J.L. MILLER
The News Journal

04/07/2006

Walter Ryan, a Kent County (Delaware) man who is facing possible eviction from his manufactured home because he refuses to get rid of his beloved dog, has found an attorney to help him fight any move to evict him.

But the Michigan-based company that owns High Point Park is showing no sign of budging -- although it has not followed through with a court action to evict Ryan.

Ryan, 56, lives in the Little Heaven park with his wife, Paula, and his sister Maryann. Both Walter Ryan and his sister are disabled. Paula Ryan helps care for them both.

Sun Communities Inc., which owns the park and rents the lots to homeowners, claims Dottie, one of the family's two dogs, violates the park's prohibition on "noisy, unruly or dangerous pets." Late last month the company told the Ryans to move.

A story in The News Journal on the Ryans' plight caught the attention of Neilson C. Himelein, an attorney with the Community Legal Aid Society in Wilmington. Himelein has agreed to take the case, Ryan said.

Himelein declined to comment Wednesday, saying he did not want "to litigate this in the newspaper."

However, the legal aid society's Web page lists Himelein as the organization's counsel for fair housing, suggesting Ryan could mount a legal defense based on his disability and that of his sister.

Federal law requires that landlords make "reasonable accommodation" for people with disabilities, and companion animals can be covered by that clause.

In addition, Delaware Humane Association official Mary Ann D'Amato said Thursday that she has been in touch with Himelein and that she has "offered to either mediate or speak on the issue of animal-assisted therapy involving both Walter and his sister."

The Ryans moved in seven years ago after the manager OK'd Dottie's presence, and they have lived there since. But on Jan. 31, the park's owner sent Ryan a "notice of rule violation" and followed up with a letter last month notifying him his lease was being terminated immediately.

The notice labeled Dottie a pit bull, which is one of several breeds of dogs prohibited by Ryan's lease.

Ryan countered with a statement from his veterinarian that 10-year-old Dottie is not vicious, and that it is impossible to determine how much pit bull blood the mixed-breed dog may have.

Sun Communities initially did not return calls from The News Journal. After the article appeared, the company said it would answer written questions submitted by fax.

In its faxed response, which came a week after the company received the questions, Sun Communities official Kevin Bennett said the company took the action after "a complaint was received from a neighbor of Mr. Ryan regarding an aggressive incident involving the dog."

Ryan said he suspects that refers to an incident in which Dottie barked at a neighbor's black Labrador retriever.

"A neighbor just passed by with the dog, and that was it," Ryan said.

At one point, the company's faxed statement says Dottie's breed is "irrelevant. ... The noted behavior is the important issue at hand and a court should decide if the dog poses a threat and decide its fate."

But in an answer to another question, Bennett wrote: "The reason we acted was the identification of the breed and the behavior it displayed."

Breed-specific measures such as the clause in the Sun lease have been rejected as unfair to owners and the animals by Delaware legislators and New Castle County Council. New Castle County Council defeated a proposal this month to label pit bulls as inherently dangerous and require owners to muzzle them.

State law leaves landlords free to put breed-specific bans in leases.

Ryan said he has heard nothing from the company since he received the notice that his lease was terminated.

"They don't call me. They haven't bothered me," Ryan said.

$1000 Reward for Safe Return of Snoop

This photo was taken two years ago when he had just been clipped down

He was taken from his yard at
7634 Mercier St. New Orleans East
on or around December 5^th

Snoop survived 5 weeks after Hurricane Katrina. When his owners returned they were overjoyed to find him waiting for them at his flooded house. On December 5^th, Mr. L was at the house, gutting and cleaning. He left Snoop in the backyard for 20 minutes to go to Home Depot. When he returned Snoop was gone. He was picked up by someone in a white van.

Snoop is a 13 year old lab/chow mix. His fur is long and curly; black with red hues. His ears are floppy and reddish/brown in color. He has white on his chin. One or two of his teeth are chipped. His normal weight is around 75 lbs. He was wearing a red, white & blue flea collar and a tan or brown collar. He’s very friendly and his elderly owners are grieving.

Email noanimalleftbehind@gmail.com with any info.

Copies of this poster are available by request in MicrosoftWord or Adobe PDF

Video of Mike Minton shooting dogs in SBP

This video shows Sheriff Mike Minton admitting to shooting dogs. It's not as graphic as many of the photographs taken inside the schools but is disturbing psychologically and emotionally.

Noah's Wish Receives Shelter of the Year Award

(New York, NY) February 13, 2006

Noah’s Wish was the proud recipient of the Lambert Kay and Arm and Hammer 2005 Shelter of the Year Award at Dogs in Review 51^ST Annual Show Dogs of the Year Awards, presented by Nature’s Recipe. Terri Crisp, Founder and President of Noah’s Wish, accepted the award on behalf of the organization at the gala event held at the Grand Hyatt New York Hotel on February 11, 2006. Dogs In Review’s Show Dogs of the Year Awards attendees included owners, breeders, handlers, judges, media and representatives of the American Kennel Club and numerous VIPs of the fancy.

For more than 50 years, the Show Dogs of the Year Awards have paid tribute to the finest competitors in the sport of purebred dogs. Along with the Annual Show Dogs of the Year Awards, special presentations were made to Special Industry Awards winners, honoring those individuals whose dedication to their craft is incomparable. These individuals were honored for heightening public awareness of canine well-being and to elevating respect for the industry at large. Awards include Groomer of the Year, Veterinarian of the Year, Trainer of the Year and Shelter of the Year.

The prestigious sponsors of the Shelter of the Year Award, Lambert Kay and Arm & Hammer, have provided quality pet products for more than 50 years. The sponsors reviewed several nominations for this year’s award and selected Noah’s Wish for its outstanding efforts to rescue animals in disasters. “Noah’s Wish’s exemplary work during Hurricane Katrina made them stand out from the rest of the shelter candidates this year as they rescued and cared for almost 2,000 animals in a temporary shelter in Slidell, LA and worked to reunite pets with their owners or find them loving new homes,” said Arm & Hammer representative Scott Harmon.

“I am proud to accept this award on behalf of the hundreds of volunteers who worked tirelessly to rescue and care for the animals we saved in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina,” said Terri Crisp. “And I hope that the one lesson learned from this terrible tragedy is the importance of having a disaster plan.”

For more information, visit www.showdogawards.com, and for year-round news and information, read the current issue of Dogs In Review magazine.

Fun new quiz: Guess the breed of this dog

Feel free to post your guesses here.

Recognize these adopted dogs?

Utopia Animal Rescue Ranch in Texas has adopted out these Katrina dogs.

ya gotta love the moving caption on their website:
Please come adopt them so we can rescue more.

And if you don't remember seeing any of them listed on Petfinder, guess what?

They weren't!

Pitbulls are sorry for ever being born...... will your breed be next?

The Dogs Who Found Me by Ken Foster

From Times Picayune Book Editor Susan Larson:

It's a bright, sunny morning in Bywater, and Ken Foster is taking his dog Sula for a walk. The two of them come bounding up Piety Street, back from Markey Park, and before you can voice any reservation you've ever had about pit bulls, Sula has dispelled them all with her sloppy wet kisses.

Foster's other dogs, Zephyr and Brando, are waiting inside the house. "Two is a good number. Three is trouble," Foster says. But Sula is the cover girl today, as she is for Foster's new book, "The Dogs Who Found Me: What I've Learned from Pets Who Were Left Behind" (Lyons Press, $12.95).

It's a memoir that will appeal to dog lovers, for sure, but it's also a human story of considerable dimensions, framed by the national tragedies of Sept. 11 (Foster was living in New York then, playing in a park with his dog when the first plane went overhead) and Hurricane Katrina (he had moved to New Orleans to teach at the New Orleans Center for Creative Arts, a job now gone with the wind).

Along the way, he lost two close friends, writers Lucy Grealey (to suicide) and Amanda Davis (who died in a plane crash); suffered heart failure (remedied by the installation of a pacemaker); and kept up his work of rescuing dogs, especially pit bulls.

In his introduction to an earlier book, "The KGB Bar Reader," Foster wrote: "There may be just one universal story: Someone loses something."

Despite its title, loss is everywhere in "The Dogs Who Found Me." Yet Foster himself has a light heart; he laughs easily and often as he shows off photographer Cami Johnson's portraits of his dogs and describes her use of a feather to focus a dog's attention.

"It wasn't something that occurred to me until I was done with it -- that the book was about loss and moving forward in some way," Foster said. "I don't know if I would rescue dogs or what I would have done in the hurricane if I hadn't experienced the periphery of Sept. 11. Once something that huge happens in your neighborhood, essentially, it totally changes you."

Now, more than ever, Foster is committed to his adopted home, and his adopted dogs.

"When things happen, you can be the person who does nothing, who retreats, or you can be the person who takes some kind of action," he said. "Once you have enough things happen in your life, you have to become that person. After the storm I was at a community meeting, and there were a lot of people who had lost everything, but the angriest, loudest people were complaining about the fact that their cable wasn't working. Cable! Probably nothing bad had happened to those people before then."

Foster grew up in Pennsylvania, studied writing in Boston, Portland, Ore., and New York (where he took a class taught by Nancy Lemann), and generally lived the life of a student and barista (his stints of residence in New Orleans include working at PJ's, then in the Garden District, 12 years ago). When he was at Columbia University, he founded the popular KGB Bar reading series at an East Village watering hole, which resulted in the anthology "The KGB Bar Reader." He is also the editor of the anthology "Dog Culture: Writers on the Character of Canines," and the author of a collection of short stories, "The Kind I'm Likely to Get."

All along, he was moving toward New Orleans, steadily.

"Even my dogs have an appreciation of this city," he said. "Life goes on outside your door, not inside of it. One of the first things I noticed living and visiting here is that nobody is exclusively what they do. You walk by houses where lawyers live and hear them practicing their musical instruments. Especially after living in New York where people are only what they do and you only know people who do what you do, and you only talk about what you do with other people who have done it. When I first moved there and wanted to learn to be a writer that was great. Then I could find writers, hear their work, and learn how to be a writer. But now. . ."

Now, he is getting ready to go on tour for "The Dogs Who Found Me," hoping to raise funds for the SPCA, and working on his contribution to a new book, "Intersections," which will feature the work of 24 New Orleans writers and artists, all the while teaching an online writing course and freelancing.

And volunteering at the SPCA.

"I don't have the fear response to the idea of pit bulls," he said. "Really, I'm just one of many volunteers, but I keep an eye out for pit bulls. That's the thing I can do and would like to do. Cute fluffy, happy lap dogs get all the attention."

But Ethel, a pit bull mix with a German-shepherd colored coat, "so laid back and so sweet," and Mikey, an enormous pit bull Staffordshire terrier, get Foster's attention.

In "The Dogs Who Found Me," Foster writes with passion and self-deprecating wit about the dogs he's rescued, recounts with sadness one haunting failure, and realizes his own vulnerability. There are chapters about no-kill shelters, bits of advice on how to approach a dog, one chiding list of things dog owners all too often do -- titled "How to Lose Your Best Friend" -- lists of resources, a meditation on "the folk art of lost pet fliers," reminders of the need to plan for pet evacuations. But above all, this is a story of the ways in which animal and human love and loyalty strengthen and sustain us -- and how love requires our best efforts and hard work to succeed and endure over the long haul.

"One of the reasons we rescue things," Foster writes, "is to feel a sense of control that we may not really have in our own lives. If we can save something, maybe then we can do anything. Or maybe saving that one thing really is all we can do, but we will have done it absolutely."

An excerpt from 'The Dogs Who Found Me':

This is what I left with: three dog crates, three dogs, a bag of dog food, a single change of clothes, two bottles of wine. I didn't want to take too much, since it would only be a day or two that I was gone.

This is what I left behind: dog bowls, all of my photographs, all of my books, my iPod, my hard drive, my DVD collection, my pacemaker monitor, my health insurance cards, my bank cards, my checkbook, my clothes, drafts of stories, notebooks, packaged food that I would later want when I was hungry, bottled water, my address, my job, my students, my neighbors, my friends. Almost everything.

You think about whether you'll ever see your things again. You think about whether you'll ever go home. You think about the people you knew but didn't know, like Grong Grong and his family, their baby, and the stray dog we found that they were going to take home.

I had friends. I had people willing to make room for me and my dogs. I had more help than I knew what to do with, partly because it is hard to know what help you need when you don't even know where to begin. "I don't know if I need anything," I said when people offered to help. I didn't know how homeless I was. I didn't know what would help. I knew that there were plenty of other people and animals who needed more than we did. My friend Leslie Pietryk told me in an e-mail: After my husband died, all these people kept wanting to do nice things for me and it was confusing and I couldn't quite trust them or know why they were acting that way. Made me feel odd. Eventually, I decided that they were mostly doing things to make themselves feel better . . . so I let them, which is harder than it sounds.

The dogs knew this already.

-- From Ken Foster's 'The Dogs Who Found Me: What I've Learned from Pets Who Were Left Behind'