Kinship Circle: Rebuilding Lives, Two Hands At A Time

Saturday, December 27th, 2008

———- Forwarded message ———-
From: Kinship Circle – kinshipcircle [at] accessus.net
Date: Dec 24, 2008 8:45 PM
Subject: Rebuilding Lives, Two Hands At A Time

KINSHIP CIRCLE ANIMAL DISASTER AID NETWORK

12/24/08: Rebuilding Lives, Two Hands At A Time
YEAR-END REFLECTIONS * http://www.kinshipcircle.org/disasters

THIS IS FOR YOU:

1. Rebuilding The Gulf Coast, Two Hands At A Time
2. Kinship Circle Recognized For Work In Iowa Floods 2008
3. The Great River Rescue
4. I Rescued A Human Today

=======================

1. Rebuilding The Gulf Coast, Two Hands At A Time

Kinship Circle - 2008-12-24 - Rebuilding Lives, Two Hands At A Time 01

SOURCE: 12/24/08, VIDEO – With My Own Two Hands
WATCH VIDEO NOW: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BJ44B33HRmo&NR=1

FROM KINSHIP CIRCLE: Thanks to my sister and fellow animal rescuer, Cara Shoss, for alerting me to this beautiful video and inspiration for this message. Brenda Shoss, president, Kinship Circle

From Cara Shoss, cshoss [at] gmail.com — Imagine what we could do if we all used our own two hands to change the world. Keep believing in what you are doing. Happy Holidays to all of you and thank you for using your two hands to make a difference for the animals in the world.

TURN UP YOUR SPEAKERS: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BJ44B33HRmo&NR=1

KINSHIP CIRCLE REFERENCES:

GULF COAST: Animals In Gulf Coast Storms & Other Disasters
http://www.kinshipcircle.org/disasters/gulfcoast/default.html

(More below the fold…)

One by one, until there are none.

Sunday, November 16th, 2008

In Maine they tell of an old man walking along the beach with his grandson, who picked up each starfish they passed and threw it back into the sea. “If I left them up here,” the boy said, “they would dry up and die. I’m saving their lives.”

“But,” protested the old man, “the beach goes on for miles, and there are millions of starfish. What you are doing won’t make a difference.”

The boy looked at the starfish in his hand, gently threw it into the ocean, and answered: “It makes a difference to this one.”

The quote is from Second Chance Wildlife Sanctuary’s website. SCWS was profiled in Rochester’s Democrat & Chronicle some time last year. I learned of the group when my mom, having read the article, asked me to make a donation to the sanctuary in her name as a Christmas (?) gift. I distinctly remember being moved by SCWS’s founder, Joyce Smith, who was 77 at the time the article ran in the D&C; she had been rescuing and rehabilitating injured and orphaned wildlife from her home for a quarter century.

I just happened to click over to the website today while doing some early holiday shopping. Maybe I’m feeling sentimental, but the story of the starfish had the same impact as when I first read it last year.

I was saddened, too, to see that Ms. Smith passed away on August 22, 2008.

Blub.

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Tagged:

Goodbye, my sweet pit bull girl.

Monday, November 10th, 2008

2006-09-25 - Dogs-0021

Shadow came into our lives in the spring of ’97.

It was June 2nd – late spring, early summer. I was just finishing up my freshman year of college. Busy with school, busy with work, busy with friends. Busy, busy, busy.

Rochester springs are rainy, and the spring of 1997 was no exception. The last days of May saw a week-long rainstorm. Consequently, we spent little time outside that week. When the rain finally let up, my mom went out behind the garage – to do some yardwork, or maybe some spring cleaning. There, under our tree house on stilts, she found a shivering, emaciated little dog. The pup didn’t appear to have any identification – no collar or such – but she clearly wasn’t feral, either. She seemed scared of us, yet she didn’t bolt. My mother brought the skeletal dog a bowl of food and water. Gradually, the rest of the family arrived home from school and work, and we took turns trying to coax the little scrapper out from her cramped hiding place.

By now, it was apparent that the dog was injured. Her skin was raw and marked with gravel, and she didn’t seem able to stand. After what felt like forever, my father was able to get a good enough grip on her. He hoisted her up and into the back of his car, and off to the vet they went.

The veterinarian’s assessment, delivered the next day, was grim: the dog’s right rear leg was “shattered,” and she also had some minor cuts and bruises. Most likely she had been hit by a car: the point of impact, her broken, battered rear leg. Scraped skin and embedded gravel suggested a hard, skidding landing on pavement. She was in rough shape – and at the point of starvation, to boot.

Due to the severity of her injuries – and, even more so, the potential cost of repairing and rehabilitating her damaged leg – the vet recommended we euthanize her. “It’s too much trouble,” he said. “Too much money to spend on some stray.”

Luckily, my parents didn’t agree. I remember receiving a call from them that day at work: Well, Kelly, what do you think we should do? Even though they solicited our advice, I suspect that they’d already made their decision, and just needed an extra nudge from us kids. I think they wanted some reassurance that they weren’t crazy for spending a few grand to patch up a dog they didn’t even know. We were a solidly middle-class family, but two grand isn’t exactly peanuts for six people living on one income.

(More below the fold…)

sacrificial lambs

Monday, May 28th, 2007

The following prose isn’t entirely appropriate for the occasion, but all the tributes to military and working dogs I could find were gratuitously speciesist in nature. The only authentic poem in this genre seems to be the oft-repeated Rags, but…that’s not really Memorial Day fare, either.

So, in lieu of a schizophrenically sentimental tribute to working animals, a tribute to companions everywhere – along with a gentle reminder to love, honor, and cherish them today, tomorrow, and the day after…because you never know when the tomorrows will turn to yesterdays.

For our nation’s soldiers… Bring them home. All of them.

———————

I Am Your Dog

I am your dog, and I have a little something I would like to whisper in your ear.

I know that you humans lead busy lives. Some have to work. Some have children to raise. It always seems like you are running here and there, often much too fast, often never noticing the truly grand things in life.

Look down at me now, while you sit there at your computer. See, the way my dark brown eyes look at yours. They are slightly cloudy now. That comes with age. The gray hairs are beginning to ring my soft muzzle.

You smile at me; I see love in your eyes. What do you see in mine? Do you see a spirit? A soul inside, who loves you as no other could in the world? A spirit that would forgive all trespasses of prior wrongdoing for just a simple moment of your time?

That is all I ask. To slow down, if even for a few minutes to be with me.

So many times, you have been saddened by the words you read on that screen, of other of my kind, passing. Sometimes we die young and oh so quickly, sometimes so suddenly it wrenches your heart out of your throat. Sometimes, we age so slowly before your eyes that you may not even seem to know until the very end, when we look at you with grizzled muzzles and cataract clouded eyes. Still the love is always there, even when we must take that long sleep, to run free in a distant land.

I may not be here next week. Someday you will shed the water from your eyes, that humans have when deep grief fills their souls, and you will be angry at yourself that you did not have just “One more day” with me. Because I love you so, your sorrow touches my spirit and grieves me. We have NOW, together.

So come, sit down here next to me on the floor, and look deep into my eyes. What do you see? If you look hard and deep enough we will talk, you and I, heart to heart. Come to me, not as “alpha” or as “trainer” or even “Mom or Dad,” come to me as a living soul and stroke my fur and let us look deep into another’s eyes, and talk.

I may tell you something about the fun of chasing a tennis ball, or I may tell you something profound about myself or even life in general. You decided to have me in your life because you wanted a soul to share such things with.

Someone very different from you, and here I am.

I am a dog, but I am alive. I feel emotion, I feel physical senses, and I can revel in the differences of our spirits and souls. I do not think of you as a “Dog on two feet” – I know what you are. You are human, in all of your quirkiness, and I love you still.

Now, come sit with me on the floor. Enter my world, and let time slow down if only for 15 minutes. Look deep into my eyes, and whisper to my ears. Speak with your heart, with your joy and I will know your true self.

We may not have tomorrow, and life is oh so very short.

–Love, (on behalf of canines everywhere)

Author Unknown

———————

Photo via slagheap

Caption:

Lance Cpl. Charles E. Byerly, a 20-year-old dog handler, shows his dog Danny, 10, some love at Camp Habbaniyah, Iraq, Sept. 1. He wanted to care for his four-legged companion before they head back for Danny’s retirement in Camp Lejeune, N.C. Danny has deployed three times in support of Operation Iraqi Freedom and one to Djibouti, Africa as a military working dog fighting insurgents with Marines. After the dog’s retirement Byerly will adopt his battle buddy. Byerly is from Mars, Pa., and is currently serving a seven-month deployment with 3rd Battallion, 2nd Marine Regiment in the Habbaniyah area under Regimental Combat Team 5.

Photo by: Lance Cpl. Ray Lewis
Submitting Unit: 1st Marine Division
Cleared for Release

To open your heart and home to a soldier’s companion, start at http://www.guardianangelsforsoldierspet.org.

———————

Tagged:

"Kindness is never wasted."

Wednesday, February 7th, 2007

As seen on the Second Chance Wildlife Sanctuary website:

In Maine they tell of an old man walking along the beach with his grandson, who picked up each starfish they passed and threw it back into the sea. “If I left them up here,” the boy said, “they would dry up and die. I’m saving their lives.”

“But,” protested the old man, “the beach goes on for miles, and there are millions of starfish. What you are doing won’t make a difference.”

The boy looked at the starfish in his hand, gently threw it into the ocean, and answered: “It makes a difference to this one.”

Joyce Smith, the founder of the sanctuary, was recently profiled in the Globe and Mail:

The life of a fanatic is a hard one, and Joyce Smith’s life is no exception. At 77, she’s locked into a schedule that could kill someone half her age. She rises at 6 a.m. after sleeping just a few hours, and immediately starts to work. There’s no time for breakfast. When you live with more than 100 cats, their needs come first.

The cats in the house are merely the overflow. Outside, there is a building with about 300 more, plus a sundry collection of pigeons, parrots, rats, raccoons, squirrels and a pair of feral dogs that look like an ill-advised union between the Queen Mother’s corgi and a hyena.

Welcome to Second Chance Wildlife Sanctuary.

Go read the whole thing; it’s a great article, and Smith sounds like one tough old broad, my kinda people. If you’ve got any change to spare, please consider sending some her way.

—————–

Tagged:

Kinship Circle: DIGEST – Israel Product Testing Ban, Serbia Still Poisoning, Iditarod Torture + MORE

Wednesday, January 24th, 2007

———- Forwarded message ———-
From: Kinship Circle – info [at] kinshipcircle.org
Date: Jan 23, 2007 10:13 AM
Subject: KC DIGEST: Israel Product Testing Ban, Serbia Still Poisoning, Iditarod Torture + MORE

Kinship Circle Primary – PERMISSION TO CROSS-POST AS WRITTEN

1/23/07: Kinship Circle DIGEST / ALERTS FROM MEMBERS
Israel Product Testing Ban, Serbia Still Poisoning, Iditarod Torture + MORE

IN JANUARY DIGEST:

1. Julia Sharp, Well-Known Rescuer, Needs Our Help
2. Israel: Ban Animal Testing For Cosmetic/Cleaning Products
3. Serbia: Mass Poisoning (T-61) Begins Again
4. Serbia: Fire Your Weapons For Those Who Can’t
5. EU: Support Written Declaration, EU Ban On Bullfighting
6. Family Dog Shot By Police Denied Aid; Dies Slowly
7. Who’s Supporting Iditarod Dog Torture In 2007?
8. Spanish Galgo Appeal: Send Email To Save These Dogs
9. Wish SHAC 7’s Josh And Jake Happy Birthdays
10. Argentina: Horse Drops Dead On Street In Entre Rios
11. Atlanta Puppy-Baking Trial Date Set For 1/29/07
12. Romania: Urge Press To Cover Crimes Against Animals
13. Animal Activist’s Home Raided
14. A Stockyard Filled With Sad Brown Eyes
15. PETITIONS TO SIGN

Each DIGEST includes:

* NEWS and CALL-TO-ACTION, submitted by Kinship Circle members.
* CONTACT INFO to reply directly to the activist who supplied the alert.
* Related KINSHIP CIRCLE LINKS for more background information.
* Submissions are from KC members and do NOT originate from Kinship Circle itself.
* If emails for letter recipients fail, contact person who supplied alert — NOT KINSHIP CIRCLE.
* Send submissions for KC DIGEST to kinshipcircle [at] brick.net
* Please “clean-up” submitted alerts, and do not send chain of forwarded messages.

(More below the fold…)

Kinship Circle: [GULF COAST] We Are Rescue

Saturday, December 23rd, 2006

———- Forwarded message ———-
From: Kinship Circle – kinshipcircle [at] brick.net
Date: Dec 23, 2006 8:18 PM
Subject: [GULF COAST] We Are Rescue

KINSHIP CIRCLE ANIMAL DISASTER RELIEF – PERMISSION TO CROSSPOST

12/23/06: We Are Rescue
PAST NEWSLETTERS: http://www.kinshipcircle.org/disasters/default.html

ANIMAL ISSUE OF THE WEEK: Slaughter On The Streets Of Serbia
TAKE ACTION

IN THIS ALERT:

1. ‘Twas The Night Before XMAS 2005 (A New Orleans Prayer)
2. At What Point Do We Stop?
3. A Clue? A Lead? To Bring Them Home…
4. NOLA: 12/28 Holiday Event To Help Katrina’s Animal Survivors
5. Trapping Help Needed In Bucktown (NOLA)
6. Building A No Kill Community: Seminar In Shreveport, LA
7. Katrina Causalities: Strays Of Lakeview, New Orleans
8. NOLA Vest-Up Campaign For Human/Canine Law Enforcers
9. A Katrina Cat Reunion For Early-ARNO Volunteer!
10. Katrina CNN: A Story Of Survival And Reunion
11. Troubled Waters Video – December 2006
12. Arraignment Set For Deputies In St. Bernard Street Shootings
13. Would It Have Been So Hard To Feed These Dogs?
14. Baton Rouge: Katrina-Rescued Pet Fish Need Home
15. Christmas In New Orleans, By Katrina Dog-Artist Larry
16. A Christmas Goodbye
17. A Christmas Wish For Our Best Friends
18. On The Anniversary Of His Passing – Love, Brenda

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

(More below the fold…)

#3796196

Thursday, August 31st, 2006

I was looking for a pair of canine orphans the other day (BTW, our landlady has cleared us for parenthood – again – and we’re all set to meet a mother-daughter pair of rat terriers tomorrow afternoon…yay, doggies!) and came across this listing for Fluffy (also known as #3796196).

Fluffy’s foster home describes him as “the perfect pet”:

Notes: Fluffy is our near perfect dog for the person who wants just that. He is about 10 years old, however, looks identical to the time that he had just entered the world. His owner had surrendered him for no other reason than that he was tired of looking at him. Now I’ve heard just about every reason for surrendering a dog.

Anyway, Fluffy is nonshedding so there will not be any dog hair in the house. He never gets up on furniture unless someone actually puts him there. He never begs for food and never needs to go for a walk. Fluffy is totally nondemanding. He had never cost his former owner any money since his initial investment. He has never had any illnesses or injuries which necessitated visits to a veterinarian. Fluffy never barks, and he never dug any holes in the yard. He has never brought in any muddy foot prints, never vomited on the carpet and never made any mistakes in the house. Fluffy never left any doggy snot on the windows and he never chewed a single item. He never has a doggy odor and never needs grooming. Fluffy would never bite for any reason even in self defense, so he is the perfect pet for the person who is inclined to kick or beat an animal. We can guarantee that anyone who adopts Fluffy will have the same experience with him as his former owner.

As said, Fluffy is the near perfect dog. However, he is near perfect, not perfect. His faults are that he never greets his owner at the door to say he thinks his owner is the best person to ever walk the earth. He never looks at you when you talk and cocks his head like he is really interested in what you are saying. Fluffy doesn’t really have any sense of humor and has never done any cute things or doggy tricks. He doesn’t give a sense of warmth, unconditional love and loyalty that we get from our other shelter dogs that we have come to know. Hate to say it, but Fluffy acts pretty much like he is in a coma with his eyes open.

But, for some people, he is the perfect pet.

People never cease to amaze disgust me.

Sigh.

(If you don’t get it, click through to see Fluffy’s photo.)

She Cannot Say Good-bye

Wednesday, August 30th, 2006

She Cannot Say Good-bye

by Kathy Pippig Harris
 
It is a comfortable little place — their home — and it is paid for, cozy, and theirs alone. Just the two of them, therein, reside…an older lady and the aging canine.

Listening to the radio, as the storm grew, tears well in her eyes, upon hearing the news. She gazes at her friend, and he regards her, too. Reporters are saying everyone must now go…she was to pack only what she needed from home.

She shakes her head and wonders, Didn’t they know? That folks like her had no means to get away and no car of their own.

But officials called to say public transport would stop by; they’d take her and her things, but her beloved friend could not ride. Tears fall as thunder and lightning rent the damp air. Her friend pads over, then leans against her, there in her chair.

Sensing her sadness, the old dog wags his tail. As the wind past their porch swells to a wail he reaches up and reassuringly licks her hand. And as he has always, by her side, he will stand!

She sobs at his sweet, loyal gesture, for he does not know that on this journey, her dearest friend will not go. They had weathered life’s storms and both had grown gray. She worries as they were never long, from the other, away.

She rises slowly when she hears the knock on the door. A man takes her bags, saying, “I’m sorry, ma’am, it’s now or never — we can wait no more.”

When the old dog follows her, she says, “No, go inside where it’s safe.” His expression is one of bewilderment and hurt, as rain pelts his face. When she steps into the bus, she hears him whimper and cry. She cannot turn around to him. She cannot say good-bye.

She studies the man who holds her bags, then she steps off the bus. When she reaches her friend, she says, “No future is as important as the gift that is us.” She bends down and, happily crying, embraces her furry soul mate. “The worst storm ever is near, but alone, you will not have to wait.”

Later, as the night explodes ‘round them, and she draws him snug to her side, he lifts his fuzzy head, stares lovingly at her and she contentedly sighs.

For on this, their last journey, the two would be together always…now…and forever.

Dedicated to a future where, in a disaster, we will not be torn apart from our furry kin.
 
 

FEMA 18948

 
 
© 2005, Kathy Pippig Harris
Kathy lives in California’s San Joaquin Valley with her husband and furry family. She is a weekly columnist for the publication “Frank Talk” and a published author of five novels. She states, “Were it not for her need, desire, and love of writing — she would surely go mad!”
Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/