In my messy minivan, you'll find most of the tools of a dedicated pet-rescuer. Dishes. Bottled water. Canned cat food. Old towels. One of those cheap collar-leash combos you can find at any veterinary clinic.
Not that I really care what people think, but I've always assumed the impromptu animal-rescue work I do would be universally considered worthwhile, even virtuous. Not so! I recently discovered there are people who think it's nothing short of crazy. And one of those people is now an ex-almost-friend of mine.
Is it possible for pet lovers to be friends with those who don't care about animals? Probably not, I've always figured, considering the fact that no one in my own personal inner circle is without furred or feathered family members. And they're not casual animal lovers either. Their pets go on vacations, have greeting cards sent in their names, and are not to be forgotten on birthdays and holidays. We don't care if others think we're nuts: Our pets are family to us, and that's all that matters.
Still, I was optimistic that a developing friendship with a person who had no pets was going to be fine. After all, I'd had Benjamin with me when we met, sitting in a warm patch of sunlight outside a coffee house. She had said he was a handsome dog and petted him without reaching for a packet of hand sanitizer. Ben isn't exactly a good judge of character -- he likes everyone -- but he offered her his paw with dignity and held her gaze while she admired him. A good start, I figured.
We met for coffee a couple of times more and finally decided to grab some dinner together, planning to meet some of her friends at a restaurant. I picked her up, and we hadn't gone but a mile or two when I saw a young shepherd mix pacing in fear at the side of a busy boulevard.
I pulled over and reached for a leash. "What are you doing?" she said.
"Getting that dog," I replied, opening the car door while she complained that we'd be late for dinner. As I inched soothingly toward the half-grown pup, I could hear the radio volume increase behind me and then the driver's side door slam. She wasn't going to help, that was for sure.
The dog came to me willingly, wagging his tail and jumping into the back of the van as if he'd done it many times before. I told my dining companion to call her friends on the cell phone. We wouldn't be making it to dinner after all.
She was dumbfounded by this turn of events. After some give-and-take, we agreed instead that I'd drop her at her home and she'd go on without me. Her last words: "I knew you were into animals, but this is ridiculous."
And they were last words to me, indeed. She has no room in her life for an animal nut, and I have none for someone who considers dinner plans more important than an animal's life. We probably both spent the next few days complaining about each other's behavior to our real friends, the sympathetic ones who share our respective points of view.
As for the dog, he was quickly reunited with his family because of his ID tag. When they finally stopped looking for him long enough to answer the phone (he'd slipped out just a few hours earlier), the reunion was easy to arrange.
Two days later they brought over a basket of fruit and a gift certificate to a nearby restaurant to thank me for helping their pet.
It's one of my favorite places to eat, and I'm thinking of inviting them along. I bet we could be friends. They'd understand a van full of pet gear. I just know it.
PETS ON THE WEB
If you're missing a pet or have found one, you might want to tap into the resources of the Missing Pet Network (www.missingpet.net), a volunteer effort founded by staffers at the U.S. Department of Agriculture and managed by animal lovers in each state. The site offers information on how best to find a lost pet, as well as help with disaster planning for families with pets.
While the Missing Pet Network is probably the most wide-reaching in scope nationally, many local shelters and other animal groups maintain lost-and-found listings. To find these, use a search engine like Google (www.google.com) and put in some words such as "Lost Pets" and your city and state. A good collection of links to missing pet pages can be found at www.eburg.com/(tilde)dalmatia/splinks.html.
THE SCOOP
What could feel nicer on a cold day than a massage -- for your pet? Not only will a massage make your pet feel good and strengthen the bond between the two of you, but it will also do good things for your own physical well-being. Giving your pet a massage will help to relax you and lower your blood pressure. What a deal! Maryjean Ballner's books will help you learn to give your pet the healing touch: "Cat Massage" and "Dog Massage" are a bargain at $11.95 each, and your pets will thank you for their purchase. You can find out more about the books (as well as a "Cat Massage" videotape) at www.catmassage.com.
QUESTIONS FROM THE PACK
Q: You recently answered a question about the golden retriever who (as dogs always do) snacks on the contents of the litter box. We solved this problem by placing heavy, covered litter boxes, preferably in corners, with the opening toward the wall.
Enough space can be left for a cat to slide through and into the litter box, but not for a dog to be able to forage inside. -- Munira Murrey, via e-mail
A: Your strategy works great for cats that tolerate covered litter boxes. Those with asthma should have open ones, though, so they are less bothered by the concentration of litter dust and other irritations.
Your note reminds me of setup in my friend Jan's house, designed to keep the dog out of the cat food. Her husband got a plastic milk crate, set it on its side and secured it with the opening in a corner. The cats can easily hop over the crate, through the triangle-shaped opening and into the crate where the dishes are. The dog can't fit, though, and is forced to watch the cats eating -- a torment the cats likely enjoy immensely.
When dealing with litter-box snackers, you have to always make sure your cat is comfortable with the arrangements you've made to keep the dog at bay. If you don't, you'll be finding little kitty offerings elsewhere in the house. If the cat's not happy, no one is happy!
Q: When we used to travel with our pets to the homes of our friends and families, we had temporary tags made up to pop on the pets' collars while visiting. If your dog somehow got loose while you're at your parents' house, you'd rather the pet-finder had a local contact. The tags are cheap, and you just store them with the keys to your folks' home until next time. -- P.T., via e-mail
A: Some of the larger pet-supply stores have machines where you can make your own pet tags -- they're fun to use, really.
I like to travel, and I take my pets whenever possible. Years ago a dog-loving friend and co-worker, Judy Jordan, shared her solution for temporary pet IDs: key tags.
She uses those simple round paper ones you can get cheaply at any hardware store. When she's at a campground or in a hotel, she writes the name and phone number of the place on the tag, plus a room or campsite number. They're so easy to find and inexpensive that it's no big deal to make up a new one every day.
I've used this tip for years, although I prefer to use the heavier plastic key tags that you can slip a piece of paper into. It's not as convenient, since you have to cut up some 3-by-5 cards beforehand to have paper for inserting. But my dogs are water dogs, and if there's a puddle to splash through, they'll find it. While the plastic tags aren't waterproof, they're certainly more water-resistant than paper tags.
My pets also always carry the tags of one of those national tracking services as well, with an 800 number good for wherever we roam.
Gina Spadafori is the award-winning author of "Dogs for Dummies," "Cats for Dummies" and "Birds for Dummies." She is also affiliated with the Veterinary Information Network Inc., an international online service for veterinary professionals. Write to her in care of this newspaper, or send e-mail to writetogina(at)spadafori.com.
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