5. The Heart of the Season: Hats for Grail Mama and Friends Beyond Family

~~By Grail Guardian

We all know that 2008 has been a very trying year for all of us; the devastating election season, rampant misogyny and racism, the trampling of the Constitution, the endless betrayals of Congress and the President, the collapse of the world economy, the horrific tragedy of Bettyjean Kling and her family, the list seems to go on and on. For me there has been an added trial. This summer, my mother came down with what she described as a stomach bug. She was tired, weak, and couldn’t hold down solid food. After 2 weeks of applesauce and Jell-O we dragged her kicking and screaming to the doctor, and an ultrasound scan revealed she had gall stones. Or so we thought. After what was supposed to be simple laproscopic surgery, she emerged from the operating room with a ten inch abdominal incision and a diagnosis of aggressive gall gladder cancer.

What made this diagnosis especially awful is that about 40 years ago, she had developed Hodgkins Disease (cancer of the lymph nodes). At the time of her diagnosis, medical science was still a bit backward (although I’m personally not convinced we’ve come that far) and she underwent some of the first chemo and radiation therapy used to fight cancer. The ordeal she went through was indescribably awful; the primitive nitrogen-mustard chemo left her unable to life her own head and the radiation left her with disrupted balance and co-ordination, scar tissue, and brittle bones for the rest of her life. But she defied the medical community and lived. Though confined to a wheelchair and unable to do simple things like drive or put a holiday turkey in the oven, she eventually went on to go horseback riding, bowling, scuba diving, and even skiing!

Her life had been transformed, but she lived as normally as she could until she started to slow down again this summer. The surgeon was able to remove most of the cancerous mass, but there was a small bit in her liver that was inoperable. Although I know she was terrified by the memory of her first experience, after the oncologist assured her that they used much gentler stuff these days she summoned her strength and agreed to try chemo and radiation again. The doc was truthful – it was less obnoxious, producing some nausea and extreme weakness and tiredness, but nothing like the first time. Unfortunately, a few weeks ago, we discovered it also hadn’t worked.

The day the doc delivered the news, I was (needless to say) a bit overwhelmed. Winter in upstate NY is not for the faint of heart or body, and even the short trek to the cancer center left her cold and tired. She and Dad drove home (Dad said she had slept a bit on the drive over, but I seriously doubt she did on the way back). I finished out the work day in a stupor and headed for home totally disheartened. As my mind raced with thoughts of what we could do next (the doc wasn’t optimistic about alternate forms of chemo, and she told us the side effects would be much worse), I climbed the stairs and found a box sitting outside my door. It was my own little holiday miracle in the making.

In the flurry of medical activity of the week, I had forgotten that our very own Kenosha Marge had e-mailed me a few days earlier to tell me she was sending me a Christmas gift. I opened the box to find a delightful custom-made InsightAnalytical shopping bag and an absolutely wonderful warm and fuzzy fleece IA hat. My first thought was my mother. I knew the hat would be perfect for her! She absolutely loved it, and when we met for a family breakfast a few days later she showed it off to everyone, being sure they noticed the InsightAnalytical embroidered on the brim. She’s never been to the site, and I’m quite sure she didn’t know what IA was, but she pointed it out and made all her friends read it. She kept it on through breakfast and fought with Dad every time he tried to adjust it or get her to take it off.

I sent Marge an e-mail to thank her for her wonderful gifts, and told her I hoped she didn’t mind that I planned on lending the hat to my mother. Well, not only didn’t Marge mind, she immediately responded that she had a Christmas hat that was much prettier that she was sending. (In Marge’s words:” Most of us gals feel a little better knowing that we look better.”) Within a day or so, she e-mailed me again to let me know that not only was the Christmas hat on the way, but 2 others as well! It seems Marge has made hats previously for others with cancer and she had some extras. My mother was quite grateful and delighted! She hasn’t had the chance to wear them all out yet (we got a couple feet of snow here yesterday, so the parents are staying housebound for a bit), but I wanted to do something special to thank Marge for her generosity, talent, and friendship. So now IA readers can get an exclusive view of Marge’s Hatbatty Hats, modeled by Grail Mama:

Christmas Hat

In case you’re wondering, we’ve decided to try an herbal remedy called Graviola, and in January hope to see specialist Dana Flavin König (highly recommended by my cousin Christina).

So again, I want to extend my heartfelt thanks to Kenosha Marge and to GRL (who has also been very supportive to me personally) for doing their share to make the season bright! And I don’t want to forget American Lassie and Leslie, who also have been great friends in our IA community!

Whatever holiday(s) you may celebrate (if any at all), I want to wish you all a Happy and Healthy New Year!

4. The Heart of the Season: A Dog’s Purpose and Justice for Karley and All Who Deserve It

~~By InsightAnalytical-GRL

Anyone who loves a dog will relate to this story at some time. My uncle, who was probably the original “dog whisperer,” sent it to me.  I don’t know who wrote it or where it came from, and it is a bit maudlin…but, it sums out how many of us dog lovers feel.  Unfortunately, not all people are dog lovers, or lovers of ANY animal, including people who are supposed to be role models.  More on that later…First, see if this little piece doesn’t touch your heart…

***

A Dog’s Purpose (from a 6-year old).

Being a veterinarian, I had been called to examine a ten-year-old Irish Wolf hound named
Belker. The dog’s owners, Ron, his wife Lisa, and their little boy Shane, were all very attached to
Belker, and they were hoping for a miracle.

I examined Belker and found he was dying of cancer. I told the family we couldn’t do anything
for Belker, and offered to perform the euthanasia procedure for the old dog in their home.

As we made arrangements, Ron and Lisa told me they thought it would be good for six-year-old Shane to
observe the procedure. They felt as though Shane might learn something from the experience.

The next day, I felt the familiar catch in my throat as Belker’s family surrounded him. Shane seemed so
calm, petting the old dog for the last time, that I wondered if he understood what was going on. Within a few
minutes, Belker slipped peacefully away.

The little boy seemed to accept Belker’s transition without any difficulty or confusion. We sat
together for a while after Belker’s death,wondering aloud about the sad fact that animal
lives are shorter than human lives. Shane, who had been listening quietly, piped up, ‘I know
why.’

Startled, we all turned to him. What came out of his mouth next stunned me. I’d never heard a more
comforting explanation.

He said, ‘People are born so that they can learn how to live a good Life — like loving everybody all
the time and being nice, right?’ The six-year-old continued, ‘Well, dogs already know how to
do that, so they don’t have to stay as long.’

Live simply.

Love generously.

Care deeply.

Speak kindly.

Remember, if a dog was the teacher you would
learn things like:

When loved ones come home, always
run to greet them.

Never pass up the opportunity to
go for a joyride.

The last line about the joyride makes me smile, because like many dogs, my own sweet boy, Slick, is madly in love with riding in the car.

Slick was a lucky boy because I finally managed to take him in after he spent 8 months as stray.  But so many don’t have that sort of luck. So many dogs (and cats and other animals) are cruelly mistreated. And what sort of message is sent when someone in a public office or someone with celebrity status commits heartless and inhumane acts towards animals?

Consider the case of Karley, a 6-month old shepherd mix who was so brutally beaten that she had to be put down.

KARLEY

The perpetrator? A  Los Angeles County Assistant Fire Chief named Glynn Thomas Johnson. And this is not the first time that Johnson had attacked a dog owned by the Toole family who live near Riverside, California.  A site called PetAbuse.com has compiled the case:

Shelley Toole called deputies in August 2000, saying Johnson shot her dog Kahlua above the eye with a pellet gun. The deputy, she said, told her that it would be her word against his and advised her not to pursue the case.

Bryan Monell, a senior investigator with Last Chance for Animals, a Los Angeles group specializing in animal cruelty cases, has interviewed residents in Johnson’s neighborhood who say their dogs have gone missing or have been shot with pellet or BB guns.

Chris DeRose, founder of Last Chance For Animals, said that in his 30 years of investigating animal cruelty cases, this was one of the worst beatings he’d seen.

“When you see something like this you got to take a stand,” he said. “To me, it’s not just an animal issue, it’s a people issue.”(my bolding)

The incident happened Nov. 3 in an unincorporated area near Riverside.

Travis Staggs, a friend of the Toole family, said he was returning with Karley from a walk when Johnson approached and asked if he could take the dog the rest of the way home.

“He walked maybe 100 feet with the dog and that’s when it happened,” said Shelley Toole, who had discussed the incident with Staggs but had not seen it herself.

“Travis saw Karley on her back and Glynn punching her with his closed fist at least 10 times to her head. He then literally pulled her jaws apart until they broke.”

Staggs told police that Johnson then hit Karley more than 10 times in the head with a rock.

Staggs called 911. Not long after, Johnson’s wife called 911 reporting that her husband had been attacked by a dog.

Karley’s nasal cavity was crushed, her skull cracked in three places, her ear canal collapsed and one of her eyes lost, according to the veterinarian’s report.

“The vet told me, ‘We can try to save her, but if she survives she will have permanent brain damage and may not be able to function,’ ” said Shelley Toole, who chose to have the dog euthanized.

“She was never an aggressive dog. All she wanted to do was play. We took her to the river and she rode in the boat with her head over the railing. She loved the water.”

A public outcry, demonstrations and demands for tougher penalities in animal abuse cases have been ongoing since the November 3 incident.  Extensive media coverage and the involvement of  Warren Eckstein, who hosts “The Pet Show” (whom I listened to years ago when he broadcast from New York) helped spur the public’s involvement. Eckstein’s site has extensive coverage of the case, particularly the protest actions.

After weeks of protests, Johnson was arrested on last Tuesday (12/16) and will be arraigned on January 13, 2009 on charges of “one count of felony animal cruelty and the use of a dangerous weapon in the commission of a felony. He was released on $10,000 bail and faces up to four years in jail if convicted in the beating of 6-month-old Karley.”

The family has set up a site, Justice4Karley.com,  and a group of retired LA County firefighters have set up a fund to help pay for legal costs as the family pursues a civil suit against Johnson, which they will pursue no matter what happens in the criminal case.

But there is more at the site than a plea for donations. There is a picture taken of Karley (the “least graphic”) as she was being treated by the vets after the attack. It is testimony to the viciousness of Johnson’s actions.

But locally, a high-profile animal cruelty case has been dismissed. Why? With the help of  delaying tactics by the defense, too much time has gone by to prosecute the case!

Judge dismisses animal-cruelty case

By Lauren E. Toney Sun-News reporter

LAS CRUCES — A visiting state district judge ruled Tuesday that too much time had elapsed in the case of a Las Cruces teacher charged with multiple counts of extreme animal cruelty, and dismissed the charges.

Jack Catlan, 57, a speech pathologist at Picacho Middle School, was indicted in February on two felony counts of extreme cruelty to animals and 20 misdemeanor charges of cruelty to animals.

“The judge felt that there was a speedy-trial violation,” explained Susan Riedel, chief deputy district attorney, citing a defendant’s constitutional right to a speedy trial. “Nobody wants to see a case lost on a technicality.”

She explained visiting Sixth Judicial District Judge V. Lee Vesely, of the Silver City area, traveled to Las Cruces to assist with the caseload and ruled that too much time had passed since Catlan was indicted.

Riedel noted that trials were previously set for June and then November, but despite efforts to push the case through a fast-track program, it was delayed by defense motions, and a heavy caseload at the state district court.

“It’s largely based on clogged dockets at the courts,” she said.

On June 28, 2007, the sheriff’s department spent 10 hours removing 125 animals from Catlan’s property at the 500 block of Fairacres Drive.

Earlier that month, Catlan’s neighbors contacted officials about the number of animals on the property. A search warrant was served on Catlan, but he refused to allow deputies on his property, holding them at bay for more than three hours.

A rooster, two goats, five ducks, 25 chickens, 33 dogs, and 59 cats were eventually seized.

Officials reported some animals suffered from neglect, including dogs with visible sores and matted and tightly twisted fur. One female dog had a perforated uterus from over breeding, authorities explained.

A teacher, a role model, let off the hook because the courts are too busy and the defense files delaying motions.   So much for justice here in Southern New Mexico when it comes to animal abuse cases (and there are many!)…and how many cases related to things like child abuse or domestic violence?

Of course, this case is small potatoes compared to the Michael Vick case.  Vick was back in court in late November on felony charges.

Report: Vick, co-defendants found humor in killing of helpless dogs

Updated: Saturday November 22, 2008 12:35AM

RICHMOND, Va. (AP) — Michael Vick put family pets in rings with pit bulls and thought it was funny watching the trained killers injure or kill the helpless dogs, a witness told federal investigators during the dogfighting investigation that brought Vick down.

In a 17-page report filed Aug. 28, 2008, by case agent James Knorr of the U.S. Department of Agriculture and released Friday under the Freedom of Information Act, a person identified as confidential witness No. 1 said Vick placed pets in the ring against pit bulls owned by “Bad Newz Kennels” at least twice and watched as the pit bulls “caused major injuries.”

The witness said Vick and co-defendants Purnell Peace and Quanis Phillips “thought it was funny to watch the pit bull dogs belonging to Bad Newz Kennels injure or kill the other dogs.”

Vick was sentenced to 23 months in prison in Dec. 2007, and is due to be released from the federal prison at Leavenworth, Kan., on July 20, 2009. He returned to Virginia on Thursday and is being held in Hopewell pending his appearance in Surry County Circuit Court on Tuesday, where he is expected to plead guilty to two felony charges but receive a suspended sentence.

The report, which has some names and other information redacted to protect some of the parties involved, also details the killing of several dogs at property Vick owned on Moonlight Road in Surry County in mid-April 2007, just days before the first search warrant was executed on the property, turning a drug investigation into the one that sent Vick to prison.

(SNIP)

The former Atlanta Falcons quarterback, once the highest paid player in the NFL, has been suspended indefinitely by the league and his football future is uncertain. He’s also in the midst of bankruptcy proceedings with $16 million in assets and $20.4 million in liabilities.

Peace, who also was convicted in the case, said there were times he suggested that dogs unwilling to fight be given away, but that Vick said “they got to go,” meaning be killed.

The dogs were killed by shooting, hanging, electrocution and drowning, and in at least one instance, according to one of the witnesses, when Vick and Phillips killed a red pit bull by “slamming it to the ground several times before it died, breaking the dog’s back or neck.”

What really angers me is the Vick, like the local teacher, won’t feel the full brunt of the law.  The local teacher’s lawyers basically delayed his case to the point of extinction. Vick is already serving a sentence of only 18 months for the dog-fighting conviction  and the punishment on new felony charges is probably going to be suspended.

When I think of how the law is being watered-down in these cases, it makes me think of what we’ve seen over the last few years, first with Bushco and now with Obama.  A lot of skating around the law, bending the law, and judges ignoring the law.

I’m hoping that the fire chief who beat Karley, if convicted, has the book thrown at him.  Somewhere, somehow, the law must be applied.  Isn’t that’s why it’s there?  To be applied? We’ve seen how a lenient judge paved the way for the horrible tragedy suffered by Bettyjean Kling’s daughter Louisa this past week.  Cruelty is cruelty, causing harm or death is wrong, whether it’s against an animal or a woman.

So let’s pray that their is Justice for Karley…and all of those who deserve to see it.

Godspeed, Karley…and all other innocents that have died or been harmed at the hands of heartless humans.

****

The Rainbow Bridge at PetLoss.com

Justice4Karley.com

Pet-Abuse.com (cases, law, databases, and local case pages which includes lists and maps of recent animal abuse cases for your local area)

Warren Eckstein

3. The Heart of the Season: Weeping for the “Unnatural History” of Chimpanzees (Updated 2X)

~~By InsightAnalytical-GRL

I’m not exactly sure why, by as I get older I’m just as likely to cry at happy endings than I am over sad endings.  Maybe because along the way to a happy ending there’s usually some sadness BEFORE an ending becomes happy…

I find it hard to watch nature shows these days, for example. I love seeing animals living where they’re supposed to live, in the wild and not in cages and I admire the amazing photography and the beauty of the wild but the shows are usually presented in the context that all this wonder is fast disappearing.

I used to watch Animal Planet all the time, particularly the shows about animal control officers.  The Humane Society in New York did fabulous work and some of the officers had a lot of star power. Passionate, dedicated, articulate,  involved in compelling work.  But, oh, there was so much routine cruelty and neglect that finally I had to stop watching.

These days I spend most Friday nights watching Cesar Millan (The Dog Whisperer) and the Dog Town series if it’s on.  Both shows tend to focus on more hopeful resolutions to problems involving dogs and other animals.  I need to see things like that, don’t you?

Last Sunday (12/14) I happened to tune into Nature on PBS by accident.  Within minutes my heart was aching. The show was “Chimpanzees: An Unnatural History.” I don’t think I’ve ever spent an entire hour with chimps, especially chimps that had been used in research in labs for most of their lives.  Some were taken to labs directly from the wild, others had been pets who were no able to stay in homes, and some were performers who were sold after they were no longer needed.

A couple of years ago I head read reports about a research facility that was here in New Mexico, the Coulston Foundation biomedical research lab,  that was being closed down ( subsequently taken over by Save the Chimps.)  I saw it for the first time last Sunday.  A prison for sentient beings, often living in solitary confinement and being subjected to many, many painful experiments. Even though the facility is closed, chimps are still there, with some waiting to be transported to the Save the Chimps cage-free sanctuary, the largest chimp sanctuary in the world.

Ron and Thoto are two of the chimps that were moved out of the New Mexico facility with urgency, when it was discovered that Ron had heart problems. Caretakers wanted give him at least a brief time out of a cage and to make the adjustment easier, his best friend Thoto was moved with him.

The video recounting the journey of these poor souls was so moving that I found myself weeping. (And I wept through the entire program.)  Thoto,  in his first night of freedom, slept outside under the moon.  In contrast, Ron was so frozen in his brutal past life that when he ventured out of his shelter, couldn’t even walk on the grass. Accustomed to nothing but concrete under his feet, he paced up and down before going back inside.

Although it’s not possible to download the video (which is definitely a must watch) you can get some sense of how these old souls lived for most of their lives.  From the show’s site (under “Chimp Profiles”):

RON  

Not much is known about Ron‘s life before he was used for research. What is known is that Ron spent most of his life at NYU’s LEMSIP facility. In 1996, LEMSIP closed its doors, but Ron would not be lucky enough to be spared more time in research and was sent to the Coulston Foundation where, according to his medical records, he lived a grueling existence. The many studies he was used for required that Ron be “knocked-down” (anesthetized with a dart gun) sometimes every day for a month. In 1999. Ron was recruited into an experiment called Spinal Dynamics in which researchers removed one of his spinal disks. To accommodate his pain from the experiment, Ron was given 3 days of ibuprofen. When Dr. Carole Noon and Save the Chimps found Ron at Alamorgordo, he was living alone in building 300. They suspect that he’s always lived alone.

THOTO   

You might say that Thoto, a 44 year-old male, has lived the lives of many chimps. Thoto was born in Africa, captured at a young age and sold to the circus. It was probably during his circus years that all of his teeth were extracted. After enduring the emotionally and physically stressful life as a circus chimp, Thoto became a pet for a long time until he was finally sold to a research lab. Thoto, who is one of Ron’s closest friends, now lives a cage-free life at his island sanctuary at Save the Chimps.

***

The program also featured the Fauna Foundation in Canada. This segment of the show focuses on how a wonderful couple gave up everything to finance this sanctuary which,  after years of refusal, received permission to turn their sanctuary into a cage-free home by building “islands,” inspired by a visit to Save the Chimps.  According to Gloria Grow, who runs the sanctuary with her veterinarian husband,  the islands are critical because:

It just gives them a chance to make choices; to have control. When all of their choices have been taken away I try to give them something. The chimps can choose if they want to go out to the islands and who they want to go out with. But the islands are a place with no bars over their heads. They can come out, surrounded by water and look up at the sky without any obstruction.

The segment included three touching stories.

SPOCK       

Like Sophie, Spock was also born in captivity, in Norman, Oklahoma and sold to The University of Montreal to be raised as a human child. With no chimpanzee mother of his own, he had to trust a human mother. He grew very close to other chimpanzee children in his human and un- natural environment. As usual with this kind of cross fostering experiment, his fate included eventual separation from the humans he grew to love and know when the research ended.  Then, sent to a zoo, he lived “ on exhibit” as part of the “animal collection” for the next 25 years until his rescue by Fauna.

TOM

Tom was also born in Africa. Like Annie, he should have known the beautiful world of the wild chimpanzee. Ripped from his family, he spent his first 30 years in the cold world of the laboratory. In his 15 years at LEMSIP, Ch-411 was knocked down over 369 times. Completely uncooperative in the lab, he was even knocked down for cage changes. After enduring some 56 punch liver biopsies, 1 open liver wedge biopsy, 3 lymph node and 3 bone marrow biopsies, Tom gave up. Plagued constantly by intestinal parasites, he often had diarrhea and no appetite. When he had some strength, he banged constantly on his cage. Today, Tom lacks the necessary social skills to be a part of a social group – all of the skills he would have learned with his mother and his siblings where he should be right now, in Africa.

Tom’s story is especially moving.  Here’s a description (with pictures) of his first day outside of a cage from the Spring 2006 Fauna Newsletter:

Tommy’s day on the Island was outstanding! He is the oldest resident of Fauna, in his mid forties, but he looked like a young
fellow, stomping very quickly across the grass, heading to the structure, to check it out.
He too did the trip, walked around, tried all the resting places and even looked bored for a
moment, and then the greatest moment came. He looked up at that big old tree on the edge
of that Island. We knew the way he was looking at ‘the tree’, that he had every intention of
giving it a shot. We were kind of panicking now, all the humans, running back and forth,
calling his name, then with the realization that with or without our support, he was going to do
it. We looked at each other and Pat who is Tom’s favorite human friend, said
to Tommy “Go Buddy, you can do it!’’ That was all Tom needed to hear. We
all just stood there, held our breath and watched this dear old fellow climb up
that tree, snapping the little branches carefully while stepping up on the
stronger ones and just kept on going up. It was as though he had done it before,
knew what to do, even though he was now quite heavy, but that wasn’t going
to stop him. He rested at about 25 feet, and then went another 10 feet or so. He
looked very proud of himself, and truly magnificent up there. We were crying,
calling out cheers to him, hugging each other, and feeling a mixture of
emotions, from extreme happiness to complete sadness for all the years that
had been taken from him.

Tommy’s climb was captured in the Nature program. I cried along with Gloria Grow, who wept with obvious joy at seeing Tommy doing something he hadn’t been allowed to enjoy for decades.

Perhaps the most poignant story is that of Billy Jo (video available at the Nature website). He passed away only two weeks after his first chance at being outside of a cage after the islands were finished.

BILLY JO

Billy Jo was purchased in 1983 after some 15 years in entertainment. During those years he had his teeth knocked out with a crow bar. He fared no better in the lab. In 14 years at the lab, Ch-447 was knocked down over 289 times – 65 times by dart, sometimes with 4 or 5 men surrounding his cage. To this day, Billy cannot bear to have strangers grouped in front of him. In addition to several HIV challenges, Billy endured 40 punch liver biopsies, 3 open wedge liver biopsies, 3 bone marrow biopsies and 2 lymph node biopsies with no tangible or practical results. He also chewed off his thumbs waking up alone from knockdowns when no one was around to care for him. During one fit of anxiety, he bit off his index finger. Anxious, aggressive, and fearful, Billy banged incessantly on his cage, rocking and staring into space when left alone. Even today, Billy is still plagued by anxiety attacks- attacks so bad that they leave this majestic adult male chimpanzee choking, gagging and convulsing.

***

Billy Jo left us on February 14, 2006, at age 37.

***

Billy Jo was one of Fauna’s most famous residents, He was an ambassador for all chimpanzees and for Fauna. For nearly 10 years, Billy was the first face you saw and the first voice you heard when you arrived at Fauna.

Billy was always there to meet anyone new, always available for a social situation, even if not always in a good mood. He had the most unforgettable presence, and the most majestic of looks. Incredibly handsome and extremely charming, he was a very complex character.

He was intelligent and perceptive. He understood so many conversations that he was easy to talk to and simple conversations with him could usually get him into doing things that needed to be done. He would always try to help us once he understood what we needed from him.

Billy was a troubled soul and very confused about who he was and how he fit in. He did not do very well with other chimpanzees, and yet, of course, he was not able to live in the human world either which would have been his choice. This conflict left him alone a great deal of the time. He so often seemed sad about this. Yet, when he was with his chimpanzee family, it would often be a big problem for him as he simply didn’t always fit in.

***

Billy is a sad example of why captivity — cross fostering, entertainment, and research — is so destructive to the chimpanzee mind, soul and body. Billy is missed terribly by his hundreds of human friends. We only have to see him in a photo or a documentary and we are brought to tears thinking about this very special chimpanzee person.

“ Good night sweet prince”

As Gloria Grow points out, the chimps are all in a compromised state of health, many having been used in AIDS experiments or in space-related testing, as well as other medical research;  they have been robbed of their health through years of what has been described as “torture.” They still suffer even as they find homes in sanctuaries and bond and become families. As she says, they are all living on borrowed time.

If you ever doubted a chimpanzee’s ability to feel the pain of the death of someone they have known (chimp or otherwise), read this small part of the description of what some mourners did after the death of Donna Rae (also in the Spring 2006 Fauna Newsletter):

When the girls went in, there were all five around Donna Rae: Miss
Pepper, Sue Ellen (Donna Rae’s dear little companion for years), Petra,
Chance and Rachel. Donna Rae was now lying on her back but she
had some blood on her lips from the turn she took with Binky. All the
girls were just hovering over her body, examining every part and going
through the very same ritual they did with Annie and Pablo with such
love, tenderness and compassion. We stayed with everyone while all
was taking place. Rachel left brief y and then suddenly returned with a
paper towel in her hand. This was something that had been handed to
her much earlier on, as so often we do. Rachel lay down at Donna Rae’s
head and propped herself on her elbow. For what seemed an eternity
she ever so gently just wiped and wiped away the blood that was on
Donna Rae’s face, cleaning her lips, her nose, wiping her eyes and her
brow. Donna was immaculate when we finally took her from her home
and her family, to “the port where all may refuge find”.

Look into those faces, those eyes.  When you do, you know that you must look into your own heart.

Please consider helping the foundations that work to reclaim life for these deserving chimpanzees.

****

Chimpanzees: An Unnatural History (The program site has many links to videos, chimp profiles, and a list of organizations and sanctuaries. I urge readers of this article to watch the videos to get a full understanding of what our closest relatives have endured.)

Save the Chimps

The Fauna Foundation

The Gorilla Foundation (Koko.org)

Interview with Gloria Grow, The Fauna Foundation (Transcript, Nature website)

Quebec couple offers chimps sanctuary from abuse (July 7, 2008)

Chimpanzees used for medical testing ‘show signs of torture’

***

UPDATE 12/24/08

I just got off the phone with the Fauna Foundation.  A lovely woman  took my donation by credit card. I had left a message as she was out of the office tending to the chimps and she called me back.  When she called, she was in the process of giving the chimps their afternoon tea!!!

We discussed the Nature documentary a bit and darned if I didn’t start tearing up again!  She extended an invitation for a visit…and who knows, if  I get back East again, I may just visit Quebec again.  (Last time I was there was when I was a child…so I’m overdue!)  Happy Holidays to chimps everywhere!

UPDATE 12/27/08

Literally a few days after contributing to Save the Chimps and The Gorilla Foundation (the folks who study inter-species communication/signing with Koko and her family as well as working for gorilla conservation), I received lovely membership packets with posters, stories, and postcards and wonderful information about the organizations and the work they do!  Gosh, I am so impressed with these folks who work with apes…Fauna and groups like Save the Chimps and The Gorilla Foundation certainly deserve our support!

KOKO signs "Baby"

2. The Heart of the Season: Birds of the Solstice and Signs (A Double Post by kenosha Marge and InsightAnalytical-GRL)

The Winter Solstice arrives at 11:59 UTC (6:59 AM ET) this year. As we plunge into the dark days of Winter,  we have two stories about events around the time of past “long nights.”  First, “Katie in the Christmas Tree”…then, “Winter Solstice 1992: The Final Flight of a Soul.”

Katie in the Christmas Tree

~~By kenosha Marge

Twelve years ago last October something happened that changed our lives forever. While away at work on a temporary 2^nd shift job our house burned. We returned home to find the windows boarded up, the roof covered with plywood and our home gutted except for part of the kitchen, the laundry room and the bathroom.

We were not informed at work because it was a temp job and no one knew where we were. We returned home to the darkness and the tiny and not-so-tiny corpses of our beloved pet birds. All had died of smoke inhalation.

Ten tiny parakeets lay at the bottom of their cage. My beloved cockatiel, Shiloh, was laying in the doorway between the living room and kitchen with his pal Miss Martha, another beloved cockatiel, at his side. The lovebirds, Sundance and Pinkytop were dead on the bottom of their cage. My giant Green wing Macaw Macho was on the bottom of his cage. Reba the Redheaded, conure, ditto. Hombre our precious Blue and Gold Macaw was nowhere to be found. To say we were devastated does not begin to explain how we felt.

It was midnight and being the day before payday we had no money to go anywhere even if we had anywhere to go. Instead my significant other set up a cot and we slept in the kitchen with the smell of the burnt wood in our noses and a picture of our dead friends in our minds. Little sleeping was done.

Morning brought a closer look at the devastation. It also brought the fire department to tell us that an electrical problem had caused the fire and that we couldn’t stay in the house another night.

Amazingly the phone still worked and so an exceedingly pompous and condescending city official was able to get through to also tell us we could not stay another night in the house and that we had to get the mess cleaned up/removed within 60 days.

The Red Cross arrived as did some friends and that’s when we learned that our precious macaw Hombre had survived and been taken home with another friend. Hombre had been our very first parrot and like almost everyone else in our flock, he had been rescued from abusive or neglectful owners.

We were fortunate in that a friend had a vacant apartment and we moved into the tiny upper 3 rooms that were to be “home” for the next six months. Hombre, who had been an independent sort, was now very clingy and insisted on spending much of his time sitting on my lap. This was welcome to me since I was feeling the loss of so many of my “friends” and of so many treasured mementos from my life.

Details of that time are vague in my memory perhaps because so much to do. We had to find a new home while the memory of the small yellow house filled with so many beloved pets was still uppermost in our minds.

We quickly realized that we had to get out of the apartment lest we do an injury to our “benefactor”. She seemed to think that renting an apartment to “friends” meant that she was able to come and go within that space when said renters were home or not. We did pay the same rent, as any other tenant would have.

So we bought a 90-year-old brick bungalow on a very busy street. The busy street and the fact that the house needed a lot of work put the price without reach. That was back in the days when you had to have a down payment to buy a house. We furnished the house meagerly from a small fire fund collected for us by some friends.  This act of kindness is one for which we will be eternally grateful.

Significant Other, Hombre and I moved into our new home.

That’s where the story of Katie and Kameron the macaws begins. The same friend that had alerted us to Hombre’s neglect now told us of two more Blue and Gold Macaws that needed rescuing.

We insisted we were not interested. We were still suffering from broken hearts from the loss of our beloved birds and besides we were getting too old to be rescuing parrots. We were in our fifties and macaws being very long-lived would outlive us. We couldn’t stand the thought of beloved pets ending up sitting alone in a dark, dank basement, unloved and neglected as we had found Hombre. He still suffered from arthritis from that experience. Plus he had scarred lungs from the fire. He needed, and deserved all our attention.

Our friend knew us well and proceeded to tell us the story of the two neglected macaws, a brother and sister just 7 years old. See, we said, we’re way too old to take those birds. They’ll out live us by many years.

The birds were kept in a small cage in a breeder’s basement, the friend told us. They had one small perch, no toys and nothing to do but sit in that cage 24 hours a day. The breeder hadn’t even bothered to give them a name. How could we not help them, our friend asked? Our friend by the way had 12 rescued macaws so simply did not have room for two more.

Reluctantly we agreed. Katie and Kameron came to our house.

Blue and gold macaws are beautiful birds. Their bright colors almost hurt your eyes. Not Katie and Kameron.

Blue and Gold Macaws

Birds that are neglected or abused will often self-mutilate. Katie had plucked herself bald where she could reach. She also plucked Kameron when and where he would allow it. She had no feathers on her chest or the front of her neck. Not a pretty sight. Kameron had developed a habit of running his beak back and forth on the bars of the cage, out of sheer boredom we presume, which had disfigured and weakened it, a problem we have never been able to solve completely.

KATIE

Birds of beauty they were not. Even the feathers that they had were dull and lifeless looking. Our much beloved and well cared for Hombre seemed to glow with life and vitality next to them.

We put them in a large cage in the living room and left the door open. I spent endless hours talking to them. Trying to get these most distrustful birds used to me and to understand that they were now part of a loving and caring flock.

Hombre was usually free to roam the house and roam he did. He once took up residence in the towel cupboard in the bathroom. We discouraged that but it took time and patience to convince him that the towel shelf was not a good place for a nap. He disagreed and was quite comfy with nice soft towels to repose upon and partially closed doors to darken the room for his mid-afternoon nap.

However the shrieks of terror that issued from a female acquaintance when Hombre popped his head out of the cupboard and said “hello” while she was seated on the toilet scared him so much he decided to take his naps on the couch instead. The female acquaintance never visited again either. Was it something he said?

Katie and Kameron sat inside their cage for 3 months. They played with one of the toys in their new home and both seemed intrigued with looking out the window. Things they saw also easily frightened them. Imagine if you had spent your whole life in a tiny cell in a basement.

KAMERON

Finally after 3 months Kameron ventured out of the cage and up to the nice big branch/perch we had waiting for him on top of the cage. He sat up there and looked around in delight. Inside the cage Katie was not pleased. She had spent over 7 years with her brother beside her. She couldn’t seem to understand how he could be so far away. She made small distress sounds. He stayed put. Then finally, reluctantly Katie climbed up beside him. She trembled. They stayed on top of the cage for nearly an hour. Then a noise frightened them and they scurried back into the cage.

Having tasted freedom they began climbing out for longer periods of time until at last, by the time we had them for a year, they spent most of their time outside their cage.

Hombre was interested but behaved like the gentleman he was and did not invade their space. Well, not often. Sometimes when they were on top of the cage we would find Hombre happily sitting inside and investigating their food dishes. I think he was just making sure that the newcomers didn’t get any better grub than he did.

Hombre passed away four years ago. His poor little lungs finally gave in. We miss him terribly. His was a very large personality and a large voice. His was a loving heart and he could make you laugh when you didn’t think you had a laugh in you.

Macaws are not among the best talkers in the parrot world but Hombre talked quite well. Katie and Kam don’t. Hombre did manage to teach them to say “Hi, what and no”. He also taught Kam to say fu*ker. Don’t blame us for that because Hombre was nearly 40 years old when we got him and his language was “salty” to say the least.

Kam and Katie both will play the “Hi” game as long as I will. It’s a simple game, they say “Hi”, I respond and it’s repeated until they get tired of playing. Then I am the last one to say “Hi” whereupon they look at me as if I am just too tedious for words.

The only real problem we have with Katie and Kam is the occasional unscheduled flight. Having never had occasion to fly in their lives they aren’t very good at it. Kam usually ends up on the curtain rods and complains loudly until I find the large dowel rod I use to retrieve him. The rod is safer for him as when he climbs on my arm he often clamps down, I jump and birdie is off into the wild blue living room again.

Katie’s flights are more of a problem. It’s not actually the flying that’s her problem it’s the stopping. She tends to just fly into walls and go splat. We are scared to death she’s going to break her neck. She usually goes splat, falls to the floor and then waddles painfully back to her cage. I follow behind moronically asking if she’s all right. Next day the naked, featherless chest is usually bruised.

However the other night Katie out did herself. A car honked outside and scared her and off she flew. Right into the Christmas tree. I was on the phone with GRL of our blog and I quickly hung up and went to rescue my friend.

Katie quickly grabbed the branches in her strong toes and hung on for dear life. She then began grabbing at the strings of light with her even stronger beak. I was scared she would electrocute herself before I could rescue her. She wouldn’t climb on the dowel or my arm. She was in the Christmas tree and seemed damn determined to stay there.

I did the only thing I could think to do; I simply tipped the tree over and laid it on the floor. Katie calmly stepped down onto the floor and trailing tinsel behind serenely walked back and climbed up onto the top of her cage. I crawled hurriedly and worriedly behind her grabbing frantically at her tinsel trail since this can cause great distress or death to birds if it ends up in their crop.

At this point Kam came over and assured himself that his sister was all right and the two of them looked down at me sitting on the floor with the disaster that was now my Christmas tree.

I got to my feet, righted the tree and looked at it in dismay. All the lights had shifted to one side, the ornaments were scattered from hell to breakfast and the tree topper was listing drunkenly to the south.

Now that I knew Katie was fine and the rescue was over I got weak in the knees and had to sit down. I am the type that is excellent in a catastrophe and absolutely useless afterward. This was afterward and I was alone with two birds that didn’t seem to have a care in the world.

When my Significant Other came home from his second shift job several hours later he looked at our Christmas tree in some consternation. “We have a hurricane in the living room?” he asked. “No, just an unscheduled Katie flight”, I replied. He understood immediately.

The following day, I had to take the Christmas tree back down to its bare branches and start all over. I didn’t complain and I didn’t mind the extra work. It is just a Christmas tree and can be easily replaced. Katie’s my friend and she cannot.

***

Winter Solstice, 1992: The Final Flight of a Soul

~~By InsightAnalytical-GRL

(Written after reading KM’s story for the first time)

I just read the story and my heart just sank when I read about the loss of your house and birds and dog.  OH, MY…, how DID you survive??  How terrible, I can’t imagine something like that (although, even though this house is only 8 years old, it makes me nervous as some of the outlets are having problems….)

The loss of the animals, of course, is probably the most devastating thing to deal with of all…You know, the whole story has reminded me of December 1992 when my father died.

The Saturday he died I had just bought a cockatiel. I had been thinking about it and that day I knew I just had to do it,  immediately.  It was also the Winter Solstice (14:47 UTC, 9:47 AM ET).  I remember saying, “We have to bring some light into this house,” and home came the bird that morning, which we named “Solly” after “sol”, the Sun.

After lunch I went out to the store to buy something for Solly that I had forgotten, and when I got home, my father was dying. My brother came over and moments later, he passed.  The time was 4:18 PM…the exact time of my own birth.

Over the next few days, we looked at the birds out on the fence in the yard.  Prior to his passing we had noticed that there always seemed to be an odd number of mourning doves roosting with their heads tucked into their feathers.  My grandmother always told me that there was an old Italian story about how an odd number of birds sitting on a fence indicates a death.  That Monday, at the time he was being cremated (10 AM), I looked out the window…there were the doves on the fence, alert and all in pairs .  I guess they knew my father’s soul was flying free…

This all brings tears to my eyes now…And I think I will recount this story. The animals, the birds… they just know…

***

Macaws

(Note from kenosha Marge: If you think you would like to have a large bird think twice. Or three times. Those of us who have them and love them would not give them up for anything. But they are big trouble. Some of them will eat your woodwork. Many of them are very, repeat very loud. They throw seeds everywhere and a vacuum becomes a permanent fixture in your hand. Just make sure you are willing to put up with all the negatives. Think it through. We all fall in love with the bird that talks to us in the pet shop. Staying in love with the critter that just used it’s big strong beak to destroy the rungs on your new dining room chairs is not so easy.)

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Winter Solstice celebrations: a.k.a. Christmas, Saturnalia, Yule, the Long Night, etc. (from http://www.ReligiousTolerance.org)

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Signs from birds (Auspices)

1. The Heart of the Season: Wise Words from a Young Old Soul

~~By InsightAnalytical-GRL

Over the next 5 days, we’ll be posting some pieces that will offer a place of reflection as the Christmas rush bears down.  As one who doesn’t really have any religious tradition affiliation, the season for me is more about the natural rhythms of the earth. This is the fallow time of year, where the dormant seed is resting before spring to life in a few months. You’ll be seeing pieces about animals and people, some personal stories, some happy and some rather poignant.  But, all will offer way to get the reader back in touch with his or her humanity, a chance to step back for a minute to regain one’s footing, and maybe offer ways to renew the spirit by nurturing the dormant seed through the dark days.

For many of us this year, it’s been a very harsh time of disappointment. But, in some ways, it’s more than mere disappointment. If you are of a certain age, you might have the feeling that a trap door that you didn’t know about suddenly opened and sent you falling into a dark hole. It was unexpected and we are still reeling from the shock.  Things we had fought for are now being tossed aside for by people in a party that is no longer our rock.

The only way to handle this may be to step back and connect with what matters.  Goodness toward people and all living things.  Supporting each other and those who are going through great tragedy.  We have to remain human in the face of what seems to be a huge machine that is trying to mow us down.

***

I already had planned the four pieces that will follow, but it was this first post that came together in my mind just yesterday morning. A lot of things happen when you’re just coming out of sleep in the still darkness, before the dogs are up and the birds have arrive.  Yesterday morning in the dark, a name from the past floated into my mind.  And as I thought of this person, I knew I had the start of my series of posts for the days before Christmas.

Remember Mattie Stepanek?

He’s gone 4 years. A memorial has been built in his home town.  Oprah Winfrey was heavily involved with his flash of fame, but I never watched her back then (and I don’t watch her now). I remember seeing Mattie on with Larry King several times. Larry King, someone else I don’t normally watch these days, was quite sincere in his admiration for his young guest and his mother. In those quiet visits, without an audience and hype, Mattie recited his poems, talked about his illness and tried to inform the public about what the disease he and his mother suffered from was all about.

Of course, it was easy to see what the disease was doing to both mother and son; one didn’t need a name to understand that. With a breathing tube and confinement to a wheelchair, and stories about repeated hospitalizations, one had to wonder  from the source of this little boy’s strength and insight that seemed to flow out of him as if by some miracle.

Visiting the website maintained in his memory, one of his poems stands out.  It’s one of his most famous, I suppose.  I connect with it because of its reference to the Moon.  I love the Moon; it’s on this blogsite’s mastead.  The Moon is an archetype, of course, for the feminine.  These are trying times for women who feel they are  facing the destruction of what they thought were gains and who may be experiencing a crushing fear  that years of struggling seem to have been useless. Some may pray or some of us may look to  the Moon as  something we might find worth hanging onto.

In her brilliant book, “Jungian Symbolism in Astrology,”  Alice O. Howell, a former faculty member of the C.G. Jung Institutes of Los Angeles and Chicago,  has this to say about the feminine archetype:

As women somehow know and men fear, females have an incredible access to strength and natural wisdom if left to their own devices. People in ancient times saw the feminine as the triple goddess: maid, mother, and hag.  I see them as one enfolded within the other: bud, flower, and fruit.

Notice the words, “if left to their own devices.” And there’s the rub–keeping our power and the freedom to use it. Accepting what life brings our way…but looking beyond to find our strength to deal with it all.  Hearing the voice of  the Moon may be our anchor as we  go forward. We still have the capacity to flower and bear fruit.

In the meantime, read Mattie’s poem about the that early morning time, when the Moon’s wisdom is left for us to help us as we begin to face the stresses of  the day.

Heartsongs

Revolutions 365:25

When the moon sets
Over your shoulder
As the sun rises
Bright towards your face,
What’s in the middle?
Your life is.
Filled with choices
For each moment, each place.
We live between the
Past and the future,
In the moment of our
Here, now, today.
Can we cope with the
Daily life stresses?
If we humbly accept.
We must pray.

December, 2001
© Matthew Joseph Thaddeus Stepanek
Used with permission from Hope Through Heartsongs, Hyperion, 2002

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MattieOnline.com

MDA-Remembering Mattie

The Muscular Dystrophy Association

The My Hero Project

Alice O. Howell

“Remember to play after every storm.”–M.S.