The Logical Lizard

I could tell you that I had to put a beloved pet to sleep yesterday but, if I am to be completely honest with my readers, he wasn’t exactly my pet. My actual in-house pet, Bonnie, is a petite calico cat. I rescued her seven years and eleven months ago today. She is a World Trade Center orphan and her owner was killed on September 11. I will share her story with you in September.

My adopted pet was a large, imperious, and somewhat ragged feral black cat with long white whiskers, oval green eyes, and a white patch on his chest. He had been visiting me and my offerings of premium cat food for three or four years, when it was convenient for him. I was always happy when he appeared.

For the first couple of years the midnight-black cat was wary and would watch me cautiously from a safe distance. I had to leave his food far from the house before he would sniff at it but, in time, he came to trust me enough to sidle onto the garden patio. As feral cats do, he would sometimes hang around like he owned the place for days on end, only to vanish for a week or two, or a month, and make me worry that he had been snatched by a coyote, bobcat, or SUV. I named him Big Bill—an obscure reference to Patrick McGoohan’s Prisoner, my all-time favorite television show.

Recently Bill showed up after a long absence. He’d been in some kind of fight, maybe with a coyote. His front left paw was horribly mangled and his head and back were covered in sores. The previously guarded creature lay beside my patio door, crying. I was sure he was in pain, or at least very distressed. I got some antibiotics from the vet and slipped them in his food, but they didn’t seem to help. Then I contacted an animal rescue specialist and borrowed a humane trap. I spent five days trying to catch Big Bill and, after many failures, finally succeeded. Once I got him to the vet, to my great surprise, he was as calm as anything, lying quietly on the examination table, and I was able to pet him for the first time ever.

Big Bill during happier times

The news was not good. Bill’s foot was very badly injured and would require bathing, tissue removal, and ongoing care. Feral cats don’t do well with bandages. After taking cultures from his wounds they determined that he had massive infections and needed to be tested for Feline Immunodeficiency Virus and that a biopsy should be done as well. His liver was swollen and he was losing weight. We were looking at very high medical costs for initial tests only, with no guarantee that he’d even be treatable. And what if he was? Is it okay to spend $1,000 or $2,000 on a feral cat, only to put him back out in the wild with a bad foot? It was one of the hardest decisions I ever made, but I couldn’t bear to think of Big Bill suffering any more, so we put him to sleep.

I have been involved in animal rescue and animal rights work for many years and have helped find homes for literally hundreds of cats and dogs. I have lost pets to illness and wandering, to old age and road accidents, and I’ve seen elderly suffering animals euthanized out of compassion. But this was the first time I ever ordered the death of a relatively young cat. He was a scruffy guy, but he was my friend.

Big Bill spent most of his life in my garden, so I thought he'd like to be buried there

After I buried him in the garden, I sat down and wrote out a check for what I would have spent on Big Bill’s tests and sent it to my favorite Tucson animal shelter. I figured they could use those funds to help many cats instead of me possibly being able to help one. In those last few moments, Big Bill seemed quiet and calm, and stopped crying. I hope I did what was best for him, but I’ll never really know for sure.

I recently authored a piece about the HOPE animal shelter at 2011 East 12th Street and I am writing about them again today because my favorite local charity is in dire straits.

On Monday evening HOPE held an emergency financial meeting for their staff and some senior volunteers. Executive Director Susan Scherl announced that the shelter’s bank balance was $6,000. With an operating budget of $10,000 to $15,000 dollars per month the future was looking very bleak. Susan also stated that no new animals could be taken in until the financial situation improved. And there are a lot of needy cats and dogs out there, especially in the summer.

These tiny kittens were admitted to the HOPE animal shelter shortly before they had to close their doors to additional animals in need. Photograph by Caroline Palmer.

As Susan explained to me in a telephone interview: “Our expenses may seem high, but we have a lot of special needs animals, and we spend a lot of money on those that need care. The more animals we take in the more have to be spayed and neutered. We’re no-kill and we take care of [our animals]. That’s where a lot of our money goes. We don’t have a lot of employees. At HOPE, money is not going to administrative costs.”

When you take into account that salaries and wages of employees at the Humane Society of Southern Arizona amounted to a staggering 2.4 million dollars in 2007 alone, it sort of puts HOPE’s operating budget in perspective [Source 2007 income tax return].

Fundraising efforts have been going on all week at HOPE, but both Susan and one of the volunteers I spoke with described current efforts as “only a bandaid.”

Older cats and dogs are less likely to be adopted than cute little kittens. Some have lived quietly at the shelter since it opened back in 2005. Photograph by Caroline Palmer.

Susan plans to move HOPE to a new location some day, but to do so they will need at least $100,000. “We want to have a sanctuary and some land for these animals. If there is somebody who is willing to step up and sponsor the shelter, I can provide financial information. We don’t want to stay in this place forever but if we don’t get a good amount of money, we’re never going to be able to get out of this space, and we won’t be able to save more animals than we are already saving.”

Susan reminded me that no donation is too small. A lot of their money goes to buying canned cat and dog food, and interested people can help by bringing in a case of food if they cannot make a monetary donation.

One of HOPE’s active volunteers said to me: “I don’t have any children. The animals at HOPE are my kids. I told my friends and co-workers ‘I’m never going to ask you to buy cookies or magazine subscriptions for my children’s school fund, so please help me with HOPE.’”

Well put, and I concur. I mailed in my check yesterday. If you can assist with a donation of any amount, please visit the HOPE Animal Shelter’s donation page. These are good people doing good work and they need your help today. HOPE is a special place and should be kept alive.

Please see their current photos of adoptable cats and dogs in Tucson.

Every now and then you meet someone who is  making a difference and Susan Scherl is one of those people. Along with Dr. Kayomee Daroowalla and Karen Hoyt, she founded the HOPE Animal Shelter in 2005, initially using Dr. Daroowalla’s veterinary clinic as a home base. Two years later the shelter moved to its current location at 2011 East 12th Street, southeast of the Broadway and Campbell intersection.

HOPE is a happy temporary home to many of Tucson’s needy cats and dogs. Residents live in spacious walk-in cages populated with abundant cat towers, pillows, toys, and blankets. It is a welcoming and friendly environment. I have many years of personal experience in shelter volunteer work and have never seen a cleaner or more caring environment. Injured and unwell animals are kept in a separate area while they undergo treatment. HOPE volunteers also take adoptable pets to the Petsmart branch at Grant and Swan, every Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday from noon to 5 pm.

One of HOPE's residents waiting for a new home

The shelter employs three full time staff members, along with a cadre of dedicated and enthusiastic volunteers who logged over 700 hours of unpaid time in just one month, earlier this year. As is the case with most shelters HOPE relies on the generosity of donors to keep afloat. Susan reports: “We always need money. Even if you can only afford $5 it will feed a few cats for a day.” And donating is as easy as could be. The HOPE website has a secure online donation option and also includes a wish list of urgently needed supplies, along with information about how to volunteer.

A volunteer entertains some of HOPE's cats in the shelter's main housing area

HOPE is Tucson’s only no-kill shelter caring for both cats and dogs and one of their biggest concerns is getting the word out about spaying and neutering. Unwanted kittens and puppies only add to the number of homeless and suffering animals in our home city. Low cost programs are available at a number of Tucson locations including the Humane Society of Southern Arizona, Animal Birth Control of Tucson, Arizona Spay Neuter Clinic, and the Eastside Spay and Neuter Clinic. Additional spay and neuter information is available at the HOPE shelter.

If you, or someone you know, is considering getting a new pet, visit HOPE before you think about a puppy mill. Adopting a shelter animal is a rewarding experience: you are giving a loving animal a new chance for a happy life, and adoption fees directly support HOPE’s important work. And maybe you’ll end up with a new friend for life.

Portraits of recently adopted former residents are placed together on one wall—a happy reminder of lives started anew

HOPE is open Saturday and Sunday from noon to 6 pm, and Monday through Friday by appointment. Call (520) 792-9200 for more information or visit the HOPE Animal Shelter website. They also maintain a Petfinder site where you can see current photographs of pets hoping to be adopted. 1,200 abandoned cats and dogs have found homes because of HOPE.

One of their volunteers told me: “I first discovered HOPE after losing my dear cat Sid under some awful circumstances. It has been almost two years and I cannot express the amount of happiness I feel helping the shelter and the animals. If you are on Facebook please come join our cause and help support HOPE.”

Photographs by Caroline Palmer