Embed Size (px)
Citation preview
ii
LAST STOP
Before Rainbow Bridge
True Animal Rescue Stories
Mark Feldstein
iii
Copyright © 2014 Mark Feldstein
All rights reserved.
ISBN-10: 1500446904 ISBN-13: 978-1500446901
Library of Congress Control Number: 2014912877
iv
Rainbow Bridge
Just this side of Heaven is a place called Rainbow
Bridge.
When a much-loved animal dies, it goes to Rainbow
Bridge. It runs and plays with special friends in the
rolling meadows and hills. There, animals are restored
to health and vigor, just as we remember them. They
are happy and content, but they still miss the special
people they have left behind.
There comes a day when a frolicking pet suddenly
stops and looks into the distance. With bright eyes and
eager body, it spots you and begins to run from its
friends. Reunited, you embrace in a shower of happy
tears and kisses. You look into the eyes of your beloved
pet and realize that your love for each other will always
live on.
Finally together, you cross the Rainbow Bridge….
Inspired Folklore of Unknown Origin
v
Dedicated to all the people
who help save the animals
that can’t save themselves
vi
Contents
Introduction .......................................... Error! Bookmark not defined.
Hoarder ................................................................................................ 1
Rambo and the City ............................ Error! Bookmark not defined.
The Doctor is In ................................... Error! Bookmark not defined.
Left Behind ........................................................................................ 11
Rescued by Rescued Animals (Sarah) .......................................... 7
Third and Goal ..................................... Error! Bookmark not defined.
Countdown ........................................... Error! Bookmark not defined.
Spiritual Connection ........................... Error! Bookmark not defined.
Fellow Orphans ................................................................................ 19
The Price is Right................................ Error! Bookmark not defined.
My Name is Rover .............................. Error! Bookmark not defined.
Good to Be a Guinea Pig (Sometimes) .......... Error! Bookmark not
defined.
A Christmas Miracle ........................... Error! Bookmark not defined.
The Duck in the Closet ....................... Error! Bookmark not defined.
The Little Visitor .................................. Error! Bookmark not defined.
The Wrong Species ............................ Error! Bookmark not defined.
My Best Friend .................................... Error! Bookmark not defined.
Going to the Birds (Part One) ........... Error! Bookmark not defined.
A Superhero ......................................... Error! Bookmark not defined.
Never Give up Hope ........................... Error! Bookmark not defined.
How to Catch a Cat ............................ Error! Bookmark not defined.
Rules To Be Broken ........................... Error! Bookmark not defined.
Scooby-Keith ....................................... Error! Bookmark not defined.
Separated at Birth ............................... Error! Bookmark not defined.
vii
The Fugitive ......................................... Error! Bookmark not defined.
A Gift That Keeps on Giving .............. Error! Bookmark not defined.
Things in Common .............................. Error! Bookmark not defined.
Crossroads ........................................... Error! Bookmark not defined.
Opening Pandora’s Box ..................... Error! Bookmark not defined.
Moving Day! ......................................... Error! Bookmark not defined.
Rescued by Rescued Animals (Ben) Error! Bookmark not defined.
Trooper is the Best Medicine ............ Error! Bookmark not defined.
Who is Rescuing Whom? .................. Error! Bookmark not defined.
The Perfect Match! ............................. Error! Bookmark not defined.
Rags to Riches .................................... Error! Bookmark not defined.
Chain of Abuse .................................... Error! Bookmark not defined.
You Decide .......................................... Error! Bookmark not defined.
Brief Visit .............................................. Error! Bookmark not defined.
What Handicap?.................................. Error! Bookmark not defined.
When Pigs…um…Dogs Fly............... Error! Bookmark not defined.
A Bad Rap ............................................ Error! Bookmark not defined.
Barely Rescued ................................... Error! Bookmark not defined.
Going to the Birds – Rescues Gone Wrong (Part Two) ....... Error!
Bookmark not defined.
Dropped ................................................ Error! Bookmark not defined.
Sometimes It Takes a Village ........... Error! Bookmark not defined.
House of Horrors ................................. Error! Bookmark not defined.
The Longest Rescue .......................... Error! Bookmark not defined.
The Acid Test ...................................... Error! Bookmark not defined.
A Crystal Ball ....................................... Error! Bookmark not defined.
What Did You Say? ............................ Error! Bookmark not defined.
viii
BFFs ..................................................... Error! Bookmark not defined.
The Best Therapist ............................. Error! Bookmark not defined.
A Good Omen ..................................... Error! Bookmark not defined.
Rescued by Rescued Animals (Danny).......... Error! Bookmark not
defined.
The Variety Pack ................................. Error! Bookmark not defined.
The Briefest Rescue ........................... Error! Bookmark not defined.
Going to the Birds (Part Three) ........ Error! Bookmark not defined.
The Great Escape ............................... Error! Bookmark not defined.
Rescued? ............................................. Error! Bookmark not defined.
Moooo ................................................... Error! Bookmark not defined.
Business ............................................... Error! Bookmark not defined.
The Six-Pound Terror ......................... Error! Bookmark not defined.
To Binky or Not to Binky .................... Error! Bookmark not defined.
Franco ................................................... Error! Bookmark not defined.
Books and Covers .............................. Error! Bookmark not defined.
Mission of Mercy ................................. Error! Bookmark not defined.
Meant To Be ........................................ Error! Bookmark not defined.
Perseverance ...................................... Error! Bookmark not defined.
Cookies and Cream ............................ Error! Bookmark not defined.
Trash to Treasure ............................... Error! Bookmark not defined.
Don’t Discount a Tooth Purr .............. Error! Bookmark not defined.
He was a Champ ................................ Error! Bookmark not defined.
Champagne with your Lettuce? ........ Error! Bookmark not defined.
Wherefore Art Thou? .......................... Error! Bookmark not defined.
Why They Do What They Do ............ Error! Bookmark not defined.
Final Words .......................................... Error! Bookmark not defined.
ix
Resources ............................................ Error! Bookmark not defined.
CHAPTER ONE
Hoarder
Hoarders are people who collect things to such
an extreme that they can barely move within
their own homes. Popular TV programs show
people collecting newspapers, trash, shoes,
and other various items. Butch Gilbert, in
Liberty, North Carolina, had never seen a hoarder who
collected animals.
That is, until he met Ann.
Kitty, of Tailless Cat Rescue, e-mailed him, “Help! You are
a dog person and I need help with some dogs.”
“I don’t have room for any dogs right now,” he replied
back. Butch had been rescuing dogs for many years, and
he had a full house just then.
That’s when she dangled the bait. “Too full for a blind
Rottweiler?” she wrote. She knew his soft spot. Butch
hesitated for only a moment.
“Ok, where do I go,” somehow conveying a sigh in his e-
mail. She sent directions and he arrived the next day at a
small house not far from his home. Butch didn’t see a dog
out front so he knocked on the door. Ann, a middle-aged
woman, greeted him cordially.
“Hi,” Butch said, “I understand you have a blind
Rottweiler? Kitty asked me to come by.”
“Oh, yes,” she said, “that’s Toby. Come on in.” He had no
idea that those simple words were about to change his life.
2
As he stepped into the darkened home, he was
overwhelmed with the stench of ammonia and urine. He
could barely take a deep breath. He coughed and hacked
violently into his fist and then noticed that his bare arms
were covered in fleas; hundreds of them. He swatted at
them in vain. Ann handed him a spray can.
“Spray this on your arms. It will help with the fleas,” she
said nonchalantly as if everyone had this problem in their
home. She took no note of his coughing fit.
While Butch was frantically applying the flea repellent,
hoping it was the strongest on the market, he became
aware of another assault on his senses; a cacophony of
noise from barking dogs. Between the dim light, the rancid
smell, the fleas and the unbearable, relentless barking, he
felt disoriented and light-headed. All he wanted to do at
that point was run back outside and get in his truck. Before
he could make an escape, Ann pointed to a crate in the
hallway.
“That’s my Toby,” she said proudly. In the low light, he
could barely see the black dog inside the crate. He was
barking, joining in the orchestra of the other unseen dogs.
He could feel the vibration of the commotion through the
floor of the house spreading throughout his bones.
Ann opened the door of the crate and told Toby to go
outside. He gladly complied and so did Butch.
Ann explained that she had had Toby since he was a
puppy. He had lived four years in the hallway in that 36-
inch crate. Every day she would take him out in a harness
and let him run around for an hour or so. He had the same
privileges, Butch thought, as a prisoner on death row.
3
Butch reached down to pet the dog, and Toby immediately
rolled on his back for a tummy rub. He was certainly
friendly despite his circumstances.
“Yep, that’s what he does,” Ann said approvingly.
They chatted for a while, but there was no mention of
taking Toby. Butch wasn’t sure what Kitty had told Ann
about his visit, and was a bit mystified as to his next step.
He decided to leave and discuss the situation with Kitty.
During this first visit, he hadn’t actually seen any other
animals except Toby, but he certainly heard them.
“Did you go out to the back porch?” Kitty asked when
Butch called her from his cell on the way home.
“No, I only made it as far as the hallway,” he said.
“I will talk to Ann about giving you Toby to foster. I wanted
you to meet her first,” she said. “I can only help the cats.”
“There are cats too?” he asked incredulously.
“Oh, yes, there are cats. Plenty of cats.”
Butch returned the following day. This time he made it to
the back porch. On the way through the hall, he saw two
other rooms, each filled with dogs. On the porch were
crates stacked on each other three high–at least 12 of
them. Each crate contained several cats. At a glance, he
could tell that many of them were sick, maybe dying.
He knew then they were dealing with a hoarder, despite
his lack of training. This woman was overwhelmed with
animals and could no longer care for them. Yet she
showed no concern. These were her babies, and she felt
that they needed her. It was not going to be an easy task
4
to take the animals out of there. Butch knew that Toby
wasn’t the only dog or cat that needed rescuing.
“Ann, you should let me take Toby with me,” Butch steeled
himself for a long discussion.
“Why would I let you do that?” Ann asked him sweetly.
He explained that it was not right for a dog to live in a
crate like that. Toby needed to be in a home where he
could run around and play. Butch described the kind of
family he would find for Toby and how much healthier it
would be.
To his amazement, Ann agreed. Butch carried the dog to
his truck as fast as he could because he feared that Ann
was going to change her mind. That was just too easy.
Weeks later, he drove Toby to Rhode Island to a no-kill
rescue that was going to find him a home.
Meanwhile, Butch knew he wasn’t finished with Ann and
her animals. He couldn’t just walk away.
He returned day after day to help Ann with the dogs and
cats.
His first task was to remove Toby’s crate. It couldn’t be
moved easily because it was stuck to the floor by four
years of feces. He had to dig it out by prying it up with a
shovel. It was a nightmare. The carpet in each room was
completely urine soaked and had to be rolled up and
carried, dripping, out of the house.
Dogs and cats filled every available space in that home.
More animals were kept in runs and pens in the backyard,
including one rabbit with permanent head-tilt. Usually,
rabbits go into shock and die when they get this type of
5
condition, but this little guy didn’t. He seemed to be
making the best of it.
Kitty joined Butch in the evenings to help. They befriended
Ann and she began to trust them. They bargained with
her. “If we help clean the house today,” they said, “give us
three dogs and a cat tomorrow.” They would take a hound
to the vet and get her shots if Ann would give them the
litter of puppies.
It was a precarious game of barter. One wrong word and
Ann would stubbornly dig her heels in and not give them
an animal. They were constantly walking a narrow
tightrope. They cajoled and begged. Once, Butch pointed
out that she needed a new roof–she could not do that and
care for all these animals too. Slowly, ever so slowly, they
wore her down, getting more and more of the animals out
of her home by ones and twos.
That is, until Butch said the wrong thing.
“Ann, why don’t you let me take Gus, the little bald
terrier?” he asked. He had been playing this game for
weeks and his patience was wearing a little thin. He just
wanted it to be over.
“Oh no, not Gus. He’s my baby,” she said. That was when
he made a mistake.
“How about I pay you $200.00 for Gus?” he said. The
moment the words came out of his mouth, he knew he had
said an incredibly stupid thing.
Ann’s eyes narrowed. She was angry and there was no
turning back.
6
“How dare you!” she scolded. “You offer me money for
one of my babies? You think they are for sale? I thought
you were my friend! Get out of my house and never come
back!”
That was it. Ann had lost trust in Butch, and he was never
going to be able to earn it back. She threatened to call the
police if he didn’t get off her property. He had no choice;
he had to leave.
Butch never saw Ann again. Between he and Kitty they
had rescued 61 animals, including the rabbit with head-tilt
whom he ended up keeping as his own pet. They knew
there were more animals in there, but they could no longer
get to them. No authority was willing to help, either.
Butch was depressed.
Kitty said, “Butch, you have to celebrate our successes.”
He knew she was right. He should have been consoled
with the knowledge that without their efforts those 61
animals would still be suffering in that home. Butch
couldn’t even imagine what the animals’ lives would have
been like without their rescue efforts.
Despite this, what haunts him to this day is not the ones
they saved…but the ones they didn’t.
7
CHAPTER FIVE
Rescued by Rescued Animals (Sarah)
“He touched me,” the little girl sobbed. “He
did other things too. Bad things.”
It was difficult for her to get the words out.
He patiently listened.
“I know I can tell you because you understand, since you
were also abused.”
She had learned the word abused since she had been
through months of therapy. She had never been able to
talk about her experience to the therapist. She didn’t have
the same level of trust with him as she had with this silent
and patient listener.
Months earlier, the little girl, who will be called Sarah, had
been sexually abused by a family member. Her therapist
fruitlessly worked with her–she wouldn’t talk about the
incidents.
“She won’t ever fully recover and heal,” the therapist said,
“until she can speak about what happened and work
through it.”
Out of desperation as to what to do, her family sent her to
Swan Center Outreach, who has programs to teach
children about how to care for rescued horses. They have
transformed the lives of thousands of kids, some of whom
were troubled, over the past 25 years. Sarah was
introduced to Rose Longhill who founded Swan Center
Outreach in 1989 with her husband John.
8
“We have just the horse for you, Sarah,” she said kindly.
“His name is Wakia. He’s very old so you will have to be
gentle with him. Can you do that?”
Sarah stood mutely. She was very shy and withdrawn. It
did not surprise Rose because of the ordeal she had
suffered.
Rose led the way to the stalls where Wakia was sheltered
when he wasn’t out roaming the fields with the other
horses.
As they walked along, passing fenced areas where horses
could run, eat and socialize, Rose explained further.
“Wakia was rescued after being found chained to a tree
and only given old corn husks to eat. He had been abused
in many ways by his owners.” Sarah seemed to be paying
close attention, so Rose continued.
“Do you know one of the worst things you can do to a
horse?” Rose asked her.
She shook her head.
“It’s to separate the horse from the herd. Horses are very
social animals, just like people. They want to be with other
horses,” she explained. Sarah nodded. They were nearing
the barn so Rose slowed their pace because she wanted
to complete her story before Sarah met Wakia.
Unconsciously, Sarah matched her stride.
“When we first brought Wakia here, he was scared to
death of people. He wouldn’t let a soul near him. For
months, when anyone approached him, he stepped to the
opposite end of his stall and put his head in the corner, not
looking at anyone. He would start to shake if we tried to
9
put a halter on him or even pet him. Do you know what we
did?” she asked. Sarah shook her head, by now
completely engrossed in the story.
“We put Wakia in with the herd. He had to learn how to be
a horse again and the other horses taught him. It took
months, but he learned. Once he became accustomed to
horse society, we put him in a round pen–that one over
there, as a matter of fact,” Rose pointed out the fenced
pen to Sarah.
“That kind of pen,” she explained, “allows us to work with
the horses in a safe way for both them and us. That’s how
we helped Wakia get used to people and not be afraid.
Even though one person may have been cruel to him, he
had to learn that all people were not the same. It took
time, but he figured it out. And here he is,” Rose said, as
they entered the barn and stood in front of Wakia’s stall.
Sarah looked up at the old horse that towered over her.
Wakia looked down at the little girl.
The next few days Sarah received training on how to care
for Wakia–how to groom him, make sure he had enough
hay and water and the proper way to approach the horse.
She learned quickly, since she was a bright child, so they
soon left her alone with Wakia for hours at a time.
After a few weeks of daily visits, Rose, as part of her
rounds, looked in on Sarah and Wakia to see how they
were getting along.
Stepping out of the bright sunlight into the cool, dim
lighting of the barn, she could not see Sarah in Wakia’s
stall, which surprised her. Sarah usually did not wander far
from Wakia. She saw Wakia in the stall standing very still,
10
though. In a few moments, before she had a chance to
approach, she heard Sarah’s voice. Apparently, she was
hidden behind the stall door sitting on the hay. Rose could
immediately tell that she was crying.
“He touched me,” the little girl said sobbing. “He did other
things too. Bad things.”
Rose stood frozen on the dirt floor. She couldn’t move a
muscle, not daring to break the mood.
Sarah was pouring her heart out to Wakia about what had
happened to her. She was telling him secrets that she
hadn’t shared with anyone, including her therapist.
Rose realized that Sarah had connected to this horse on
such a deep level because she felt that they had shared
similar abusive experiences. She trusted Wakia enough to
be able to open up to him.
Quietly, ever so quietly, Rose backed out of the barn to
permit Sarah to share her story and heartbreak with the
best listener she could have.
Later, it was recognized that this was a major shift for
Sarah. The emotional dam had been broken and she
could talk to her therapist about her horrific ordeal.
Without taking a single step, Wakia helped put Sarah back
on the road to a normal, emotionally healthy life.
11
CHAPTER FOUR
Left Behind
He was the last to leave. It was only fitting
since he was the owner; the captain of the ship,
so to speak. The analogy ended there, though.
He was not going down with this sinking ship,
or in this case, farm. Instead, he simply walked
away, quietly clicking the gate closed behind him. No need to
lock it.
Two weeks later, the rising sun cast long shadows over the
abandoned farm. No sound disturbed the perfect silence,
except if anyone was standing still they might detect the
distant buzzing of flies. Thousands of flies. It was as peaceful
as an unvisited cemetery. In fact, exactly like a cemetery.
The pick-up truck drove along the road with windows down
and Johnny Cash blaring on the radio.
“I fell into a ring of fire,” she sang along.
She was a local farmer on her way to Turlock to pick up feed.
Not having been to town for a few weeks, yet knowing the
farm well as she approached it on her left, she was surprised
that she didn’t see anyone around. Usually, a farm that
housed 50,000 egg-laying Leghorn chickens was constantly
active. Not now, though. Not a soul in sight.
She slowed down to get a better look and caught a whiff of
something that made her nose wrinkle. A look of disgust
appeared on her face. She was a farmer–she knew death
when she smelled it.
12
“Sheriff, you better get on out to Stanislaus County egg farm,”
she barked on her cell phone as she continued bumping
along.
“Why?” he asked.
“Something’s not right, that’s all.”
The sheriff hung up the phone thoughtfully. What could not be
right at a chicken farm? “Well,” he said out loud, “it’s a slow
day. Might as well go check on a chicken murder mystery.”
He chuckled at his own wit but had no idea, at the time, how
accurate his facetious joke was.
The sheriff arrived at Stanislaus and pulled to a stop at the
gate. He got out of the car and looked around.
“Now, this is strange,” he muttered. “Where the hell is
everybody?” Did Andy give everyone the day off? Impossible–
there are no days off at a chicken farm; at least, not for
everyone at the same time.
And what was that smell? The sheriff was not a farmer so he
didn’t recognize the odor.
“Something else is not right,” he said, and then it hit him. It
was quiet, completely silent. That’s impossible when you have
50,000 chickens. There is always noise day and night.
“What the heck is going on here?” he said. He was curious.
He pushed open the unlocked gate, returned to his car and
pulled up to the nearest silver metal corrugated structure. He
knew that this building alone housed thousands of chickens.
That terrible smell grew stronger as he neared the entrance.
He stepped out of the police car and walked up to the big
double doors. He was having a strong premonition that he
was not going to like what he was about to see. He stepped
13
inside out of the beating sun. It took a few moments for his
eyes to adjust to the darkened interior. Shafts of early
morning light from the windows cut the air, spotlighting some
of the cages in the long endless rows that receded into
darkness.
At first, he couldn’t quite grasp what he was seeing. When it
finally dawned on him, he stumbled out of the building as fast
as he could while still trying to maintain a little dignity; even
though he knew he was alone.
He stood next to the car for a minute to collect himself, taking
deep breaths. He reached in for the car radio.
“Dispatch,” he said, “get me animal control.”
“Sure thing, Sheriff. What’s going on?”
“We got 50,000 dead chickens on our hands. That’s what’s
going on.”
The sheriff was only partially correct. There were 50,000
Leghorn chickens, but they weren’t all dead. Only most of
them.
The word spread like wildfire across the county. The owner of
the factory farm had simply closed up shop when he ran out
of money. He didn’t even attempt to relocate the chickens. He
simply walked away, leaving those 50,000 chickens trapped
in wire cages to starve to death. They had not been
discovered until two weeks later.
The farm was designed like a typical egg-producing factory.
Cages were set in long rows stacked high and set on slopes
so the eggs, once laid, rolled out of the cage onto a conveyor
which then brought them to the staff who carefully packed
them to be shipped.
14
Hens were given just enough room to stand and lay eggs, not
enough to spread their wings or even turn around. They spent
their short, miserable lives, about three years, standing in a
space the size of a piece of paper. Normally, a chicken will
live to about 14 years, but not these. Chickens bred for laying
lasted about three years before wearing out.
They had about six inches to move in any direction and
always on a wire floor. These hens never touched the ground,
much less dirt.
Due to the suffocatingly tight living quarters, the hens were
prone to fight, pecking at each other through the wire walls.
So farm owners debeak the birds. They achieve this by using
a hot iron to hatch off the tip of the beak.
The lights were always on. The birds never experienced night.
That way they kept on laying eggs round the clock.
Leghorn chickens are bred to produce tons of eggs in their
short lifetimes. Some eggs go to market and some are
allowed to hatch in order to replenish the short-lived egg
layers inventory. The hatchlings are placed on conveyor belts
to pass in front of workers who inspect them. The females are
permitted to convey by while the males are discarded. The
male Leghorns are not valuable to the factory farm. They
can’t even be sold as meat birds because they are bred to be
skinny. Not enough meat to bother having them processed.
So, they are plucked off the belt and tossed alive into large
plastic bags. The ones at the bottom are the lucky ones. They
die far quicker by being crushed by those that follow. The
ones on top must wait until they suffocate. The last few
tossed in see light for the last time in their lives as the bags
are quickly tied and dumped in dumpsters.
15
After the sheriff called animal control, they soon appeared at
the ranch in white hazmat outfits, masks and gloves. Their
orders were clear; to discard the dead chickens and kill the
ones still living by any means available. 50,000 chickens
would take some time to eliminate.
Animal rescue volunteers, having heard the shocking news,
arrived on the heels of animal control. Animal Place, a rescue
in Grass Valley, was leading the charge. They were well-
stocked with cages and prepared to begin hauling off
chickens to their ranch.
The volunteers started off-loading the cages.
“What are you doing here?” the animal control officer asked
gruffly, confronting the volunteers.
“We are here to rescue chickens,” said Animal Place
Executive Director Kim Sturla, stating what she thought was
stupendously obvious.
“Not here, you’re not,” the animal control officer said, and he
walked over to the nearby group of police who had also just
arrived. They exchanged a few words and the volunteers
soon found themselves facing a barricade of officers blocking
their access.
“What is this all about?” demanded Kim. The only response
she received was a stern, unmoving phalanx of police guards.
More than a hundred frustrated rescue personnel and
volunteers, who continuously poured into the scene, had to
stand mutely by and watch the inhumane treatment that was
happening right in front of their eyes.
The animal control officers tossed live birds into special air-
tight dumpsters, sealed the lids and turned on carbon dioxide
16
gas, thereby effectively and quickly killing any birds that were
still alive. Dump trucks filled with dead birds continuously
arrived and departed in a death march back and forth to the
landfill, leaving full and returning empty. The birds were
literally being treated the same as trash.
The reactions of the volunteers who were forced to stand idly
by were mixed. Many were moved to tears; others promoting
action. The mob was reaching its breaking point ready to
brave the police barricade. At least, they thought, they might
be able to save a few chickens from this inhumane treatment.
They were prepared to be hauled off to jail if it came to that,
but they were saved from that possibility by the arrival of the
press and the director of animal control.
Here was their opportunity to take this horrid situation to the
public court. Kim confronted the director in front of the
cameras. “Why aren’t we being permitted to rescue the
chickens?” She demanded, “We are ready to do our job. Let
us do it.”
The director, caught unprepared, was trapped in the lens of
cameras.
She relented.
A cheer rose from the crowd. The volunteers sprang into
action that continued for many, many hours. Chickens were
placed in transport cages and hauled out of the farm. Tens
became hundreds and hundreds became thousands. It was
overwhelming.
Finally, the animal control officer made the announcement
they had all anticipated with dread.
“That’s it. There are no more living chickens.”
17
By the end of it, the rescues, despite a herculean effort, had
saved approximately 4,000 chickens out of 50,000.
This was the second-largest land animal rescue in the United
States and the largest rescue in California. The rescue was
only the first part. The rehabilitation was the next step.
The 4,000 chickens were more than any rescue could handle.
Other rescues throughout the area, including Sanctuary One,
hauled away as many chickens each could effectively handle.
It was soon discovered by the staff of Sanctuary One that
70% of the chickens were severely under their normal body
weight. They were weak and emaciated. Many had to be
force fed; some died regardless. The medical issues have
continued to this day.
One of the most heart-breaking aspects was watching the
rescued chickens after they were released into normal
chicken coops. Instead of wandering in all directions seeking
strewn grain or insects and stretching their wings as chickens
are prone to do, they clumped together in tight claustrophobic
groups avoiding the sun because that was all they knew from
their previous living conditions. For days, several chickens
were suffocated by the pack that would unwittingly trap
themselves in corners of the coop.
Each day the rescues ran about the coop un-clumping them,
encouraging them to go outside, scratch the dirt, and eat at
will.
It took time, but eventually they learned from previously
rescued chickens how to behave. A chicken was observed
eating a bug for the first time in her life. Instinct overcame the
brief moment of doubt and hesitation. Another found a worm
and shared it with another chicken, forming a relationship.
18
The rescuers were fascinated to see a chicken simply stretch
her wings. They could tell that this was a new experience for
her. Another flapped and jumped to the top of the coop to
peer into the distance where previously in her life she had
only stared into the cage of another chicken.
They watched those chickens being reborn throughout the
days and weeks it took to learn how to be chickens. It was a
time of healing.
It was a time of healing for rescuers and chickens alike.
19
CHAPTER NINE
Fellow Orphans
Olivia and Simon had several things in common.
They were both orphans. They were raised when
very young by foster families. They both wanted to
be adopted more than anything in the world. Both
had been caught up in a system that is not always
kind to their smallest charges. Abandoned by their true
parents, Simon and Olivia were subjected to the stress
and whim of having other people in charge of their well-
being and future.
Along with one being male and the other female, they
each possessed some characteristics that they didn’t
share. For example, Simon liked to lick his paw to clean it.
Olivia only licked her hand to clean it when it was covered
in chocolate.
Simon was a beautiful, tiny orphaned kitty covered in soft
gray and white fur. Olivia, on the other hand, was a little
girl who lived across town with her foster family. She was
also beautiful, tiny and orphaned.
Fate planned on these two sharing one very special event
in their lives.
Megan and Chris, Olivia’s foster family, brought her to the
local animal shelter to look at cats. They had a secret
plan, but the plan depended on one key ingredient, Olivia
finding just the right pet.
Olivia was a confident little girl, who marched into the
rescue ready to look at the kitties. It didn’t take long until
20
she spied Simon, sitting on a shelf, carefully watching the
visitors.
It was obvious that Olivia fell in love with Simon at first
sight. She stood absolutely still, staring up at the gray cat.
Simon also appeared to be captivated by the little girl. He
crouched down low on the shelf and appeared
mesmerized by Olivia’s eyes. They formed a frozen
tableau of love, neither daring to look away or move.
“I think we found our future cat,” Megan said softly, so as
not to disturb the scene.
“Future?” the rescue worker asked. “If you are ready to
adopt Simon, we can start the paperwork right now.”
The foster parents smiled mischievously. After a little
discussion, they left Happy Cats Haven, cat-less. Simon
uttered a single disappointed meow as the door swung
closed. Olivia stared at him over her foster dad’s shoulder
as he carried her outside to the car. She did not cry or
complain.
A week later, Olivia and her foster parents returned to the
shelter apparently to visit Simon once again.
“Shall we start the paperwork?” the rescue worker asked
hopefully.
The father, again with a secret smile, said, “No, not just
yet.”
A week later, at the same time, in walked the family to visit
little Simon. By now, he immediately recognized Olivia and
leapt into her arms to be petted.
“Now?” the foster parents were asked.
21
“No, but almost,” the father answered. The rescue worker
couldn’t understand it. What was going on? Olivia seemed
to love Simon and her foster parents kept bringing her to
visit. Why weren’t they taking him home?
A week later, three weeks after the first visit, Olivia
skipped school. She was permitted since this was very
special day for her. She found herself in court standing
next to a solemn judge in a very long, black robe. The
judge gravely handed his gavel to Olivia. She knew
exactly what to do.
Smiling at her new parents, she banged the gavel down
on the wooden block as the judge intoned, “Olivia, you are
now officially adopted by your two foster parents. They are
no longer your foster parents from this day forward. They
are your family. Congratulations!”
After 22 long months of waiting, the adoption process was
finally completed. Now, there was only one more thing to
do.
The new family arrived back at the shelter. Upon their
arrival the staff had no idea if this was the day or just
another visit.
The staff member had raised eyebrows and an unspoken
question on his lips.
Olivia’s father had a big smile on his face and announced,
“Now!”
Megan and Chris explained that they had wanted to make
this day even more special for Olivia–a day she would
never forget for two reasons. This day was not only the
day Olivia was adopted, but also the day Olivia performed
her own adoption. And that’s exactly what she did.
22
So, it turned out that Olivia and Simon shared one more
thing; adoption day!
23
To purchase the book, please go to my website:
www.LastStopBeforeRainbowBridge.com or to purchase an e-book, go to
www.amazon.com.
Please remember that we are donating 10% of all sales to non-profit, no-
kill animal rescues.
