Growing up isn't always what we hope it will be. For some there are hidden dangers in being in a relationship. For some the cost can be so great you have to give up everything to try to protect the ones you love. Love can cost us many things, most wonderful, some compromise, but the currency should never be fear, and the price should never include abuse, trauma, your life, or, the lives of those you love.... Domestic abuse and violence affects an estimated 10 million people in the US every year.
When I was in vet school my mentor and adviser, who was one of the most generous and kind people I have ever met, talked to me about the social services project he wanted to create and make universal. He wanted vets in the area (this was rural south-western Virginia) to help offer his version of "one health care." A place where all aspects of family care could be found under one roof. Can you imagine bringing your toddler, self and pets to a place where everyone could have their medical AND emotional needs met by a group of people all dedicated to helping the entire family unit? Having your teeth cleaned as your toddler got their vaccines, and, your cat and dog had their nails trimmed and ears cleaned? It is possible, although logistically cumbersome. He also wanted this healthcare utopia to offer housing for emergencies too, more specifically, domestic abuse safe housing. He remains a visionary and an inspiration.
Although I have yet to find a human healthcare network willing to co-op with my noisy veterinary medical care abode, I do carry his vision forward and offer JVC as a safe harbor sanctuary whenever we are asked. I don't make the offer publicly as that would defeat the purpose of offering a free safe place to hang out or hide if everyone knew about it and wasn't being kept secret from the people it is here to protect and shelter. But, we do, and we have, and this is one family who we were able to help.
This is the picture of joyous reunion. This pup stayed with us, hidden in the kennel for weeks while his mom left her home to move into a women's shelter. Most shelters won't allow pets. Few take whole families. He was kept safe, loved, and hidden by us while mom took her life back. He was visited daily by the men and women of the domestic abuse coalition who helped this mom and her kids find a safe place as they moved out of their dangerous home. It was a group effort. We are honored to have been a part of it.
Support, understanding, acceptance, and yes, even active advocacy can come wrapped in unusual packages in the most mundane of places. A vet hospital for instance. This is what a safe harbor looks like. It is the place around the corner. The place you visit daily and have no idea is housing a dog as her mom tries to find a women's shelter for herself, and her kids.
This is the place that protects the four legged kids of the family who data shows often see the beginning of the abuse and are used a pawns in the terrorizing and torture to keep the spouses fearful and compliant. An abusive house can be a death sentence for pets. The stress, the neglect, the manipulation, and the role they play in control are often hidden, unrecognized and silent. Kids with marks on their bodies, changes in their behaviors, and the scrutiny of a social school system trained to identify problems and mandated to report them are far more visible. Pets, well, pets can be hidden. Pets in homes with abuse and violence are at great risk, and people stay just to protect them because they fear they will lose the ones they love most, the only family member who might truly love them unconditionally and they fear what fate would befall them if they were left behind. The abused need their family and cannot abandon them, kids and pets equally.
Here's one report analysis;
"In households with a history of domestic abuse, pets can be a complicating factor. Not only are pets likely to be the target of abuse, but people who are the victims of abuse often refuse to seek shelter for fear of abandoning their pets.
The statistics are grim: Seventy-one percent of pet-owning women who go to abuse shelters reported that their abuser had injured, maimed, threatened or killed pets, according to the National Coalition Against Domestic Violence. And as many as 40 percent of abused women stayed in an abusive home because they refused to leave their pets behind."
What would you do? Would you leave a relationship without your kids? Your pets? Where would you go if you couldn't take them?
Jarrettsville Vet is a safe harbor. It is a place we built to save the little pieces of a life in progress. The place where honest advice, fair transparent prices and assistance in the best and worst days is available. It is also the place where a food pantry is kept for those in need locally. Food, litter, pet supplies, etc., are collected daily in our clinic and then brought to the local food pantry to be distributed monthly to those in need. There is always a line, it is always a huge number of families, and the pet supplies are too often the first items sought, and the first section to be cleaned bare. Food and litter are in such high demand that the large bags are broken into smaller portions to try to meet the need. This food and supplies are yet another of our safe harbors for those not under our roof.
This is the face of gratitude. A pup who has a mom who loves him, and a society to protect them both.
Serving the public isn't just about providing care to paying customers. Serving them includes opening your heart and home just a little bit wider than you have to. Being brave enough to know that you were simply lucky enough to have not needed a place like this when you were 20. Lucky enough to live in a place with protection to those whose voices lie quietly hushed in the dark corners of a world too full of judgement, blame and criticism. Lucky is about being courageous enough to ask for help and imagine a different ending where "happy" is foreseeable, and, not just a fairy tale ending other people get to live.
For anyone out there fearing for their own life, their dependents safety, and the terrible turmoil of not knowing where to go, or who to reach out to, there is help. We are so blessed to live in a country where anger, abuse, and manipulation for control, fear, and power is not accepted as a womans/pets/childs/persons place.
Be the voice for others who can't chose. Be the protective parent. If your pet needs safe keeping we are here to help. We will also assist in finding a safe place for the rest of your family. This is who we are, a safe harbor.
A very big thank you to all of you out there who help the voices hidden and huddled.
What else does JVC do?
Cat shelters in the fall. We collect donated supplies to make outdoor safe, warm shelters for the cats who do not have warm homes to winter over in.. (a separate subject for another day). Here is a video on Making Cat Shelters.
I call myself a mom.. I have had many children.. All were mine to bring into my world, and too many have been lost along the way. A mom is a person who dedicates their lives to the rearing of others. I qualify. I mother. I rear. It counts regardless of skin tone or degree of lacking alopecia.
My kids all have been four legged and furred. They were, are, and will remain, my everything, my world.
Me, Charlie and Storm
To say this is to be honest. To live this has been the greatest gift. The loss the hardest to ever try to live through.
My pup Jekyll. I miss him everyday.
It was exactly what propelled me into veterinary medicine. The force that drove me to study, sacrifice and the proudest moment yet; to accept that medical license and finally start being the girl I had always dreamt I would become. Veterinary college graduation was the culmination of a long heart driven journey. When your path is so narrow, your vision so focused, and your goal so precise you forego or forget everything along the periphery. You lose, or rather sacrifice, many other aspects of yourself along the way. It is the cost and the price for a big prize.
I didn't always have a singular calling. I had many visions of following the artistic coercion. To dance, to draw, to write. My truest passion lies in these. The longing to drown in color. Speak in landscapes, and captivate in portraits. I was the visual kind of autistic child. I was also the product of a parent and a society that measured worth by productive net income. There is a small part of me that would have never allowed myself the freedom to be the artist. To surrender a life dedicated to helping other lives for the pleasure of just expressing and sharing joy. I keep that girl quiet inside of me, but, she is still the persona who wears the pants of my soul. She is the caged bird I wouldn't let myself frolic in. She is selfish, frivolous, undervalued and less vital to the word she lives in. She is kept quiet for reasons I have a harder time justifying.
I was called to vet medicine from the passionate seduction of art because it is difficult to be immersed and devoted to both. But, like every mom we make sacrifices for our kids and suppress the self for their time with us.
The loss of them, the family I have known and loved along these many years, has been more than I can describe. The pain, the visceral sense of loss and loneliness when their presence is no longer palpable has been the most devastating moments of this life. No matter how long it has been, how far removed I have become from them I still long for them to return. I still reel with anxiety that it wasn't the right thing to do. Did I let them go to soon? Were there options left to try? Something I missed? For as many times, almost daily, that I have to confess to a client that I fear the case is lost, the battle too stacked against us, I still can't forgive myself for giving up on my kids. I decided but I still question if it was ever really their time? It is the consequence to loving so much, and having to decide when to say goodbye. They can both be a curse.
I have to say I never walked away feeling as if I had been selfish, or waited too long, or even whether or not I made the right decision. I still know it had to come to saying goodbye, but, I didn't know that exact moment. The year, maybe, the month possibly, the day, perhaps,, but that single moment of farewell.. well, I never come to terms with the moment of adieu.. I know it wasn't the right thing to give up on them. To ever give up. To not wait out another miracle another day from now. You can buy, beg, or bury yourself in a minute, but a day longer was never mine to squander or spare.
There is me, the veterinarian mom,, who has to analyze, judge, decide, quantify, and bear responsibility for the first and last steps of her kids lives, and then there is me, the veterinary mom to the patients I hold so dear. I have a tough enough time consoling myself in that last few steps of a life, never mind the steps for those clients to have to navigate it on their own. How can I make it easier for them if I can't offer the same for me?
How I have wished that I could be that all knowing god. The one who walks into the exam room, places the hand on the dying and says something so powerful it can suck up the grief and the doubt and fill the room with peaceful permission embraced in the arms of the better place we are promised to be delivered to.
I never know what to say. I never know how to not internalize that patients suffering to knit it into something soothing and consoling. Like an embrace you dolefully succumb to.
I fear I say stupid things, like, "I'm sorry." For whatever good that does anyone, but, sorry?, which I am genuinely. Is that enough?
Or, I mutter that I "know how impossibly difficult this is".. which I do.. does that help? Is it relevant? Comforting?
Can't I just be quiet? Collect the last moments of the color, the breath, the rhythmic pulses of the lungs pulling me into their struggle? There isn't any courage or bravery nor any point in trying to deny them.
There is no right place to say goodbye. It always comes too soon. No right time. We are never prepared. There isn't any argument I haven't had, nor, game I wouldn't play with either the white winged good angel or the red leather horned bad one that I wouldn't have considered? It was not a place for decorum or grace. It was ugly and full of anger as I questioned my failed attempts to buy more time. More good days lost in each other.
There are people who are truly gifted at being the guide as the after life acquires the present. People who can softly encourage the fear to be greeted with acceptance and even desire. Convince us that the next place is kinder, gentler, and more welcoming than this one. I'm not sure if it is congruent to be a healer, a fighter of the preservation of life and the giver of death via a quiet syringe of sleep. I haven't come to terms with how to fiercely be the former, the girl I forced to submit my own calling to be the artist, and the girl who trained to be disciplined, methodical, and follow a scientific approach to every problem, AND, then be the priestess providing last rights when the high command calls.
You can get stuck in trying to define, refine and serve a purpose inside and out of yourself,,, never mind the figuring out how to deliver the request to seek the end of suffering.
I fumble, a lot. Internally and verbally. It's the price a veterinarian pays when your quest to wear the coat turns you into a warrior for saving lives in a society with disposable values.
Here is a video of my dear friend Kim, talking about her recent experience with me, at the clinic when she had to say goodbye to her beloved Gracey. Kim also works at our local funeral home so she adds a perfect insight to loss and how we manage the passing of the lives important to ours.
It's been years of beating myself up over euthanasia's. Not knowing what to say, what not to say. How to act. Wanting to melt into a pile of tears with every grieving pet parent I sit next to as they say goodbye to their own beloved. Relive the pain of my own goodbyes as they begin theirs. I understand. I really do.
I can offer empathy. Genuine heart felt empathy. But I cannot say that every request for passing that I am asked for is with selfless merit, nor, internal conflict with the consequences of denial. I am truly lucky to know such wonderful generous loving people in my practice. People who helped me grieve my own losses. People who shared their impossible goodbyes with enough trust to allow me to be present. But, I long for a day when euthanasia isn't an option. I think I have come to this. To that place where pets all die of old age, disease we cannot cure and a place in our hearts that is empty after they are no longer with us. What else is the option? Economic euthanasia? Convenience euthanasia? Depopulation euthanasia? They all exist as the counter to our ability to decide another life. The lives of my kids, and others who never knew the love of a mom.
To all of you out there facing, or having faced the loss of your beloved pets I offer this small piece of advice.. Find someone who you connect with. It's ok to give yourself the time to grieve, however you want to. Follow the guidance of your heart. It will never deceive you. Every right decision lies in that place.
And to all my absent kids, wherever you are, your mom loves you. She will see you again someday.
For more information on anything and everything pet related please ask us for free at Pawbly.com.
Thank you for reading and sharing your life with the companions who remind us why life is worth working so hard to keep them in the lifestyle they have grown accustomed to.
I have this alter ego. This girl I sometimes imagine I might,,, could,, would want to be. She's bad ass, of course.. She's a lot like me but she wears more black skin-tight Lycra, and packs small sharp objects that are lethal. Her hair is perfectly coiffed, always falls into place after a tussle with the bad guy (who, by the way, is dashingly handsome and a little alluring, but, still despicable). She has a dazzling white tiled smile and can swallow a jigger of anything you slam in front of her. Stoically sober, somewhat toxic. She slays international spy crimes, in her spare time. We occasionally hang. When her schedule permits.
The rest of my day to day life exists in patent leather professional grade platforms. The kind you can have peed on and wipe clean between appointments. My weapons of choice; exam gloves and a stethoscope. Pinpoint accuracy is possible with only my five senses. I'm still very talented and adept, but, it's not so apparent to the crowd around me. It's not lucrative enough to permit a British green convertible race car to course the European ledges and byways with, but, it's my life and I worked damned hard to get here.
I am a veterinarian by day, romantic day-dreamer seeking glamorous other lifestyle by night. (Truth is my night life is my Wren, my sweet humming-purr kitty at my pillow top and my puppies hogging the bed beside me,, and they suit me just fine).
Occasionally I dabble. Don a persona of the girl I could have been,, haven't yet become. We swap spaces, walk in each others shoes, for just a few moments, every few years in between, like old lost cousins.
Yesterday it was Krista Magnifico, Esquire. Yesterday the courtroom called and I became the calculating conniving counselor in flashy suits and wing tips. All slick meets strategically sarcastic yet ventriloquist smiling. The Cheshire Cat grimacing as I attempt to intellectually eviscerate my opponent. Not the proud profession I belong to, but, a queerly quizzical place to free fall down the rabbit hole. Being a lawyer is all cunning seductive entrapment, and get to wear waaaay more fashionable clothes. We all need a little show off time every so often. Especially when your ready-to-wear closet includes only elastic waist band scrubs and disposable bio-hazard garb. Even my undergarments are tragically plain in my vet day to day life.
Yesterday we, the collective small army of five veterinary trained women, marched into the courthouse clutching a folder of evidence, records, and police reports in hand. I summoned my alter ego Angelina and strutted in the metal detector doorway confident and coy. Subpoenas had been issued. Two of them. We were showing up to fight, and we were armed with a hundred papers to slay our "respondent." It all centered around an 8 pound Yorkie found wandering on a busy road, about to become carrion.
If you aren't well trained for battle numbers count. Under the advisement of the bailiff, an older guy who clearly knew the ropes, I collected a few worn out over-copied memos and scribbled the names of everyone involved who wasn't already on my payroll. The roster included the finder of the Yorkie that all the hubbub centered around, and the Animal Control Officer who failed to meet or follow the legal requirements and in essence lit the fuse that was the fireworks of last Wednesday.
Here's a brief synopsis of the events that led us to the courtroom;
At approximately 6:30 pm a week before a Good Samaritan arrived at the clinic with a small, poorly groomed Yorkie in hand. The tiny pup was wearing an old green collar, had a face full of matted overgrown hair, was intact (hence the wandering attitude) and was underweight, under-muscled, and unkempt. We first did what we always do; scanned for a microchip. None was found. We took his photo and I give him an examination as we are told that he was found running loose on a very busy road. I looked for signs of trauma and injury and assessed whether he is safe to be left at the clinic alone, or, needs to be sent to the ER. The finder expressed that she could not take him to her home as she had big dogs and was concerned about the Yorkie's safety.
I ok'd leaving him with us at the clinic overnight.
Found dog- currently at Jarrettsville Vet. Male Yorkie. Found on Route 23. Will be transported to HSHC in the morning.
Overnight this post was shared hundreds of times. It reached thousands of people. By the morning multiple people had expressed concern that it might be their dog.
The amazing power of social media proved itself to be invaluable once again.
By opening time of 8 am the next morning a woman had arrived at the clinic to claim "her" dog. She stated the dog on the post was "hers." We asked for some kind of proof of ownership? She had none. (Who among us doesn't have a photo (or hundreds in my case) of their pets on their phone)? She became frustrated, short tempered and her husband coincidentally called at the same time to "demand we release the dog to his wife!" The staff dug their heels in, as they should have. They tried, and failed to talk to them calmly and reasonably. When the screams turned into threats the demands were met by the next place we can go. The front staff called for help from the Office Manager, who promptly called for help the Animal Control Officers who works under the Sheriff's department. One arrived within minutes. It should have ended then and there. SHOULD, but, didn't. It became increasingly heated, ugly and uncomfortable for everyone involved. The Office Manager went out of her way with an angry, ungrateful, obstinate demanding owner, and still tried to help by calling the pets previous vet (as per pups purported owner) to see if they could help with a way to tie this pup to this owner. The dog, who I had estimated to be 8-10 years old due to the degree of dental disease present, hadn't been seen by the vet we called in over 5 years. Vet practices are required to keep records for 5 years, after that we usually dispose of them for storage purposes. The woman said her dog was 4. The math didn't add up. Further, all dogs are required to be vaccinated for rabies. After the first year long vaccine given between 3-4 months old, it needs to be boosted every 3 years. No vaccines were on record by the previous vet or the proposed owner. Dogs must be licensed. No license, no tags, no chip, no vaccines, no vet records. Belligerent people still yelling. What to do next?
The worst, absolutely, worst thing that we could have done at this point was hand over a dog to the wrong person. Have you got any idea what terrible fates can befall "free" dogs?
The failure as I see it lay on Animal Controls part to intervene and act as the overseer for the pup in this case allowed for the one mistake this case, with these people, that caused a Peace Order to be needed and sought. Animal Control discussed options with the proposed owner that made it appear as if we were the party both responsible and capable of deciding the fate of this dog. We called Animal Control because of two reasons; one, we genuinely did not know who this dog belonged to and it is not our place, position, or even ability to decide. Two, the owner was argumentative, escalating, and attempting to bully, intimidate and coerce the staff. Asking us whether we wanted to keep the dog in front of the owner, or send it to the shelter left the owners thinking we had the right to decide. We, do, and would have if the pet was injured or needed immediate medical attention. If he had I would have transferred him the night before to the ER for care. This was never our pet to return, nor, our decision to make. AC knew better. They added fuel to a fire. They didn't want to get involved, I suppose, or, they didn't want to make a trip to the shelter. We paid the price for that. Eventually the officer, the pup and the owners left. All headed to the county animal shelter to duke it out under a different roof.
It didn't however end the anger. What followed with us was a barrage of slanderous, inaccurate posts on social media. Centered around how "we only cared about money." As if any had been exchanged? (It hadn't). And, that "we were sending this pup to be killed." Which he wasn't and wouldn't have been.
The Sheriff's department was called, again. They sent over two officers within minutes. This time it wasn't Animal Control, it was Officers. I asked them plainly and simply if someone could please call these pups people and explain the law to them? They said that they already had. The officers disappeared into their patrol cars for what seemed like far too long to make sense. They returned with a pamphlet and one single piece of advice. "The only way we can enforce any ceasing of harassment is with a peace order. Here is where you go to get one."
Off to the courthouse I hoofed. Here is the video of that experience;
Here is the first video of this arduous day; What would you do if someone brought in a pet who looked like they didn't have adequate veterinary care, had no identification of anytime and people who are threatening, intimidating and demanding for a pet they cannot provide proof of as being theirs. This is what these situations look like.
In the middle of this fiasco I was standing in a courtroom asking a judge for a Peace Order, trying to explain that I was doing everything I could to protect a pet in need and stay compliant with the requirements of the law. I was also apologizing for the ridiculousness of this request. It comes down to some person being nothing more than selfish and not putting their pet first. It is that simple.. The pet comes first.
After the Peace Order was issued the Sheriffs Department delivered the order. Finally the barrage of angry insulting family stopped. Finally. It was a social media blitz of people who aren't clients, don't know us at all, and have no ability to be grateful that we provided vet care, food, shelter, and most importantly, kindness. This is the greedy, selfish, angry and frankly dangerous world we sometimes find that we live in.
This is also the shit that the service providers in this current culture deal with. What is the consequence? I know almost every vet around me doesn't intervene. They don't take in 'found' pets. They send them with the finder straight to the shelter. They stay out of it. Safe. Quiet. Distant, and, I would add sadly, very much not intervening on the pets behalf when they are in need.
This is what all of the appearances in court were about. Defending my staff who still cares. Taking the brunt of the anger from a convicted felon on probation in society who still thinks they can yell, scream and demand via sheer brute arrogant force a person they don't even know.
The Judge asks, "how do you know this person?"
"I don't. He's just some guy who didn't get what he wanted. So he escalated to every avenue he could think of,, and then he invited his family to his smear campaign party."
It's ridiculous. Ridiculous people can't be civil. Can't be kind. Can't start with a carrot instead of always picking up the stick. It's insane I would ever let my staff feel like I don't have their back when a jerk stands in front of them.
Confrontational people stumble in your door. What you do with them is your option. We are all well versed in trying to talk down a lunatic, but, when the lunatic threatens, escalates, intimidates just call the authorities. Hope you don't get a lazy lawman trying to just make their own life easier. Trying to get through their day with the minimal involvement in time or energy possible. It's no different with any member of any service based profession, your vet, your doctor, you law enforcement agent. If they can't do their job to your satisfaction go over their head. Demand they refer you to someone who can.
All in this rescue operation for a little found Yorkie pulled two judges, four officers, and five staff members time.
What was the result? Probably a felon having to pay for his snappy lawyers time. The staff of JVC being hesitant to help the next lost/found pet in need, and that poor pup still not being vaccinated, microchipped, neutered or groomed.. as hard as I tried there is never a winner. I actually didn't even head into that courtroom seeking what every plaintiff does,, revenge, restitution, resolve.. or winning. I went in to try to remain committed to helping the next pet who needs us. To not fall victim to a dark side of society bent on breaking the compassion of others. I went to take a piece of that jerks arrogance. To stand up when everyone else wouldn't. To remind myself that we cannot defend the defenseless when you are too afraid to open your mouth and fight a bully.
I received a lot of advice from a plethora of friends after I posted the four videos that I made throughout that day. Most of it was to not publicize the lost pets who were brought to us. We were advised to spare ourselves the personal exposure. To just follow the letter of the law and pass these pets along to the shelter. Quietly. Although I know it came from a genuine place of concern as a way to avoid the pitfalls this pup presented, I also know that our Facebook post got this pups family found in minutes. Far faster and far more effective than just shipping him to the shelter. That part of this escapade worked in the pups favor.
I also received advice on the tools available to expunge ones social media dirty slanderous messages. Firms I could hire to eradicate the negative reviews and the hateful posts. Quite honestly, I feel that these ranting people just placed the rope around their own necks. You put that hate out there and it comes back to you. I would rather defend my actions in helping this pup then be looked upon as not being compassionate enough to provide safe keeping for a night like so many others do. They sounded like fools. Its harder to defend that than one sided slander.
In the end the two negative reviews they left got us a hundred excellent ones. The slime slander got washed out anyway. Diluted like a stain too transient to hold.
Moving forward we made some changes. The staff is still taking in found pets. We are still keeping track of them. Making a medical file for each. Assisting Animal control in prosecuting the cases of abuse and neglect. Standing stronger in knowing we face potential anger when we do, but more confident that the important part is to stand ready and kind to the pets we are bound to protect. The people who truly love their pets understand this. The rest are hiding something that perhaps isn't worthy of unconditional love to begin with.
No good deed goes unpunished, and the meek don't inherit a second chance often enough.
So, what would you have done in our shoes? Help a dog just found running in the road who needed a place to stay overnight?
Would you have made his whereabouts public to hope it helps him find his home?
Or would you look back on this experience, the having to call the cops, the barrage of social media slander, as unwarranted as it was, watching people you care about be yelled at, bullied, intimidated, and asking themselves if they did the right thing, if this stupid job of trying to help pets is worth all this crap? Having AC act like we shouldn't care so much. Just follow the letter of the law avoid the exposure? The $200 plus bucks and 2 days of court time?
What would you do?
Me, I'm sticking closer to my alter ego and hoping that Lycra still fits.
Here is the video that closed this day. My parting words and the advice to the rest of the world who thinks there is an easier way out of this that doesn't cost a pet the potential of not finding their owner, or, cost you your ability to remain compassionate.
find your peaceful place, then protect it.
If you are a pet person please join us on Pawbly.com. We are a community dedicated to inspiring and educating pet centered folks.. Its free for all to use.
For more information on anything and everything pet related please ask us for free at Pawbly.com.
Thank you for reading and sharing your life with the companions who remind us why life is worth working so hard to keep them in the lifestyle they have grown accustomed to.
