“…and family means nobody gets left behind or forgotten.” — Lilo & Stitch
With Hurricane Florence making landfall this week, there are already a number of stories about animals, from animals being left behind to strangers going into the storm to rescue animals. If you’ve been following this blog for any length of time, you know I love animals. My two cats and dog are like children to me, and I would do absolutely anything to keep them safe.
If you need to evacuate, then you need to evacuate your entire family–including your pets.
The PETS Act is an amendment to the Stafford Act that is supposed to take into consideration the needs of individuals and families who have household pets and/or service animals prior to, during, and after a disaster event. However, many people with animals refuse to evacuate because shelters will not accept pets. (I understand this mentality as I share it, but evacuation is a necessity.) Others leave their pets behind because they don’t think they have another choice. (I’m far less okay with these people.) The way I see it, then, there are two possibilities here: either the PETS Acts is not being followed during disaster events or areas that experience disaster events are not effectively communicating to the public where animal-friendly shelters are located.
If faced with a mandatory evacuation, you do what is necessary to keep yourself and your pets safe. For me, if I had to evacuate, I would put both cats into Belle’s kennel with a litterbox, get Belle’s leash on, grab their necessities, and go. I would sleep in my car if it meant keeping them safe and with me. I am that person that would not stay at a shelter if that shelter did not let me keep my animals.
I believe God has blessed me with being the caretaker of these three beings, and I would never dream of doing anything to jeopardize them. To me, they are more than animals. Their lives are no less important simply because they do not speak the same language or communicate in the same way. It is still a life.
If you have been blessed to be the caretaker of an animal, you owe it to them to keep them safe. Your animal has loved you and trusted you–don’t betray them.
I’ve said before that my dog has taught me plenty of lessons, and she continues to teach me things on every adventure we take together. With our road trip fast approaching, I wanted to get Belle used to her life vest, especially since she’s never worn one before. So I decided to take her to a dog beach.
Belle is what I call “selectively social.” She’s also the type of dog who, if she is not interested in socializing or in befriending another dog, is quick to let that other dog know. In that sense, she is like me. Perhaps that is why we are such a good match. This means, though, that when we go somewhere lots of other dogs are likely to be, I watch her very closely. She never instigates, but she will defend herself.
We have visited this particular dog beach before, before we really delved into training together, so I could safely compare her behavior this time to her behavior last time. And, boy, has it improved! (Score one for me!)
She loves fetching toys–balls, sticks, you name it–and she doesn’t much care if it’s really someone else’s toy. But she gets very possessive of balls and throw toys around other dogs, so I never bring them. (Can you see where this is going?) One dog parent had brought a water throw toy for their dog, and when it was thrown, Belle wanted to tromp after it, even though the other dog had it in and was swimming back. When I called “Belle, no!” she stopped in the waves, and I could see her think. Then she made the decision on her own–to listen to me and return to me. I was impressed to say the least.
Like I said, she is “selectively social,” so when another dog started trotting around after her and trying to instigate who knows what, Belle got grouchy–just a small warning noise–and ran to me. I try to allow her to stand up for herself first and see if the other dog takes the hint, but when this dog just would not stop, Belle turned. I grabbed the leather tab I have on her correction collar just to have control of her, and this other dog circled us. What I found interesting is that, even though I had hold of the collar tab, she didn’t try to pull from me to handle the situation herself, like she would have done a year ago.
She even sat still for photos and listened to her commands. She didn’t go in the water until I said it was okay, and she came back to me when I told her to. It felt like she knew I was keeping an eye out, and she trusted me to handle the environment.
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On her leash in public Belle is excellent. She can get particular about people approaching me, so we developed a “say hi” command so she would know it’s okay. A complete stranger approached us as we were walking the downtown area and wanted to pet her. She was hesitant about this person and stood close to me, but when I gave her the command, she lifted her head and allowed this individual to pet her. After a second, she turned her attention back to me, as if to say “I’ve had enough,” so I touched her back to let her know I “heard” her.
The best scene, though, was before we left to head home.
We were sitting outside, enjoying a water and the boat scenery, and a young boy–maybe an early teen–sat on a bench just a short distance from us. From the bit of the conversation I overheard while he was on the phone, he seemed in distress. A couple, who I assumed to be his guardians, approached, and he walked up to them, apologizing for something. As he neared our bench, Belle stood and nudged his hand.
“No,” I told her sharply, embarrassed she had just approached without permission.
“Oh, it’s okay, I like dogs,” the boy said, looking to be worried he got her in trouble.
I placed my hand on her back and said to him, “That’s okay. It’s just for her. She is learning she can’t say hi unless given permission.”
But Belle continued to watch him as he had his conversation with this couple. So I watched her.
“Can I pet her?” the boy asked a few seconds later.
“Sure,” I told him, smiling.
Belle took the opportunity. As he bent down to say hi, she folded herself into him and gave him a gentle head butt. Then she did something she doesn’t do to just any stranger: she licked him. And I don’t mean once. She gave him lots of kisses, and I watched with a smile as he laughed joyously and loved on her.
As we drove home, I thought about her interactions throughout the day and how she has improved since last year. I thought about how she listened so well to me, how she was so attuned to me, and how she just seemed to know when someone needed a little extra love. And I was impressed.
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In all we do, it is clear Belle’s trust in me has grown. Our bond has strengthened through training and everything we do together, so she knows me better. She knows when I need her to be near me, whether it’s because I’m uncomfortable in a particular social setting or because I’m in tears at home. Her attention and obedience to commands has gotten better because she wants to please me, and she knows I love her and want to do what is best for her. Our relationship–and thereby her intuition and attention to me–is built on that trust.
Like Belle, I have grown and learned a lot in this season. Like Belle, I am not perfect; I am still learning. Like Belle, my relationship with God must be built on trust–trusting that He loves me, that He wants what is best for me, and that He has good plans for me. But I would like to think that, like Belle, I know my master’s voice better now.
At the end of September, I submitted an article to a regional dog magazine: The Virginia-Maryland-Washington D.C. Dog. About one month ago, I received an email with the finalized PDF version of the article, and I realized it is considered a feature article.
I am really excited about this. It is the first article I have written for a magazine, and the first time I will be published in this way. I reached out one day with a pitch, based on an article I read from a previous issue, and the editor of the magazine accepted.
I am also very nervous. This article talks about how Belle has benefitted me as I have struggled with anxiety and depressive symptoms, not only recently but symptoms and episodes from the past I can now look back on and recognize them for what they were. I am being open about my own struggle. I have often felt like I don’t deserve to say I battle anxiety or depressive symptoms because my past is not traumatic. But if there is one thing I learned as I have continued therapy it is that my story is mine and doesn’t make me any less deserving of seeking help and healing.
Regardless, my excitement outweighs my nervousness. As I have expressed, it is my goal and aspiration as a writer to touch other people, to have my stories resonate with others. I can’t achieve that if I do not put at least a little something out there.
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One of my research interests in my field is the bond between pets and people. I took a course in Family Communication one semester, and I got to choose my topics. One of the topics I chose was this connection. I ended up using that information in my master’s thesis.
As I discuss in the published article, the bond between a pet (a dog) and us, the human, is especially strong. It took a few months for me to warm up to Belle when we adopted her, having never been responsible for such a small and needy creature. I’ve had cats–they’re fairly self explanatory. Once we got through potty training and we began real training, though, Belle and I began to bond. Now, that bond is stronger than I could have ever anticipated. She truly has been an incentive for me on many days.
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I am still very interested in the bond between people and their pets. I still want to do Communication research in that field. (My mother keeps telling me to go get my PhD; I keep saying I can’t handle that right now.) Every day, I hug Belle and shower her with love and affection.
My husband laughed, months ago, at how I cried at the mere thought of leaving without her. He told me he would never make me be without her, because, even then, he knew what she did for me. Her simple presence has positively affected me in so many ways, and I don’t know how I would get through a lot of things, especially right now, without her.
Picture this: in a scene of utter chaos and a moment that seems to be suspended in time, you watch your beloved dog get hit by a car. You rush her to the emergency vet, who informs you she has lost a lot of blood and will need a blood transfusion.
A transfusion? You think. Dogs get transfusions? It had never occurred to you before this moment. But where does that blood come from?
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A month ago, I wrote an article on a blood transfusion program for dogs here on the east coast (the Maryland, Virginia, Washington D.C. area really). After interviewing the director of the program and doing research, I decided to take the leap and see if Belle would be a good candidate. I am all about helping animals, and this is a pretty easy and direct way to do that, especially when I know first hand the benefits of being a dog mom.
Going into our consultation appointment, I have to admit I was concerned about how she would do being snuggled by someone who is not me. The techs took a few minutes to coax her to befriend them using treats, which she loved. Eventually, after maybe 20 minutes, she let them pick her up and put her on the table to begin the snuggle session.
She did just fine.
While she didn’t donate this first time, they did take a sample so they could determine her blood type. The results of the sample will also be sent to me so I know her health status, which is pretty cool. It could provide some good information for her veterinarian should it ever be needed. (I, of course, pray she never needs a transfusion, though.)
Turns out, she’s a good candidate.
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Unfortunately, I was too busy feeding her treats to take photos. Her comfort and security were more important to me.
I was pleased she was so comfortable allowing the veterinarian technician snuggle her. In fact, she almost looked like she was going to fall asleep. I guess my moments of snuggling her when I have depressive episodes got her used to it.
What was neat to see, though, was the trust that has developed between us. I truly do not think she would have been so cool with it all if she did not trust me and know I would never let any harm come to her. It was really the first time I saw that trust and had the chance to truly acknowledge it. It warmed my heart.
When we were done, I, of course, called my mother and Nana to tell them all about how Belle did. Just like a proud mom. Because I am.
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If you’re an animal lover like me, I encourage you to look into these types of programs. You can find out more about the program Belle participates in here.
Think of all the puppers you and your dog could save and how many happy families that will make.