Tuesday, August 29, 2006

Jan, this is Christy, I need your help

Please come and get me. Remember me? You saved me back in May. If you had not picked me up and helped me, I probably would not be alive today. The day you took me to Rikki's Refuge I went into labor. And it was really bad. Some of my kitty friends say it's no big deal, but I thought it was really awful. I was in labor for almost 48 hours. I had 4 babies, my first 3 were born breach, and it really hurt. Remember my poor little babies? They were so very tiny when they were born, that we were worried about them. I took good care of them, and at first are doctor thought they were going to be OK. But by the time they were two weeks old, they had faded away and died. I helped Nellie to take care of her kittens.

It was a long time before I was healthy enough to get spayed. I'm really glad I did, because I sure don't want to have to have babies again, and those Tomcats just won't listen to “NO”. So after months and months. I'm all happy and healthy. And I’m pretty young too, only about a year old. Kerry looked at me the other day and said, “What are you doing in the 9th Life Retirement, Assisted Living and Psychiatric Center? You are young, perfectly healthy, well-adjusted, a lovely young kitty. I think you should live in a regular cathouse.” And so I moved out to Cat House #1. Vincent and Victoria, Boss Man, Sneakers, Shorty and Marty, Timmy and Kerry Potter all welcomed me. Amanda even licked my ears. But it's really scary out here! Kerry Potter kept telling me stories about evil humans. I don't think I belie her because the humans I know have been very nice. Kerry Potter says they try to capture you and do evil things to you, she tells me I'm lucky to be out here, and not in the 9th Life Retirement, Assisted Living and Psychiatric Center, where there's more humans all time.

But I want my humans! And I want to go inside! I can't figure out how to get old quick. Vincent and Victoria had some ideas for assisted-living, but I really like having four legs. But I sure can pretend to be crazy. So if that's what it takes to get back in the 9th Life Retirement, Assisted Living and Psychiatric Center, that's what I'm going to do.

I screamed, I yelled, and I figured out how to get out of Cat House #1. They just hugged me and loved me and put me back in! So last night I got out again, I ran to the hospital, and I climbed up the door, and I clung on to the windows, and I screamed, and I screamed, and I screamed. It was raining and I was soaking wet. This really made them feel sorry for me, so I've now been admitted to the Psychiatric Center.

But Jan, I think you better come and get me and adopt me, because I don't think I can keep up this Psycho act for long, and then they'll try to make me go and live like a normal cat again. I promise to be really, really good if you let me come home and live with you. Do you think maybe we can just give it a try?

Love, Christy

Parfait, the Stowaway

Parfait is a precious little dilute calico, just a little thing, not very many teeth, just a little bitty meow, but a great big purr. She's an older girl and she needs fluids every day. Parfait loves cages and carriers. She always loves to sneak inside. Sometimes when a new kitty arrives, if the carrier is left sitting there for a minute, she climbs in. She's almost ridden home with people many times.

Today is a big vet day. Lots of critters going in for various types of work for the day. The carriers had been set out, the labels affixed, and at six o'clock this morning, we were catching the appropriate animal to put into the appropriate carrier. They were loaded up into the van and driven off to Culpeper Animal Hospital.

Keeping track of the medical records for a thousand animals is no small chore. Everyone has their computer record, charts are printed every day for anyone needing medication, and charts must be printed for anyone going to the vet. Labels are printed to put on carriers, so there's no confusion on who is who, and what work needs to be done. Just imagine how you would like to be the vet who got seven black cats, seven brown tabby's, seven black and whites, and had to figure out who bites and who doesn't, and who was getting neutered, and who needed a tooth pulled. The label on each carrier gives the animal's name, species, personality (as in caution your fingers will be removed if you put them into this carrier), and what medical work is needed for the day. Each animal is also sent along with its full medical chart, showing it’s shot history, as well as its prior medical history, and what is wrong today.

The animals all arrived safely at Culpeper Animal Hospital, were unloaded, and began to get prepared for whatever procedure they were having today. For non-emergency items, we block our vet service a day at a time. Imagine calling for a vet appointment, and instead of being assigned a half-hour slot, you were assigned a day!Well that's the way it is at Rikki's Refuge! And soon the phone rang. Culpeper Animal Hospital was saying, “We seem to have an extra animal here.” The vet list always has last-minute changes to it, because if surgery was scheduled and someone has a cold it has to be delayed, if someone has come down ill unexpectedly, or someone has recovered unexpectedly they may be added to, or deleted from, the list.

I was given a description of the additional animal and I was most baffled. Didn't sound like a last-minute changed one. We went over the list of each one and everybody who should be there, was there, and there was one more. The extra kitty had arrived in a carrier with a very feral cat wrapped in a mesh laundry bag (aka feral cat handling device), with only one name and description on that carrier.

“Ah Ha”, I said, “does this look like an old girl, not many teeth, fairly small, very nice and friendly? Lena, run check and see if Parfait is here.”

Friday, August 25, 2006

Rikki’s Refuge needs your Volunteer Help

Remember, I’ve said it before. If you don’t hear from me, it’s not because I’m goofing off, it’s because I’m to busy to even pick up the phone and scream for help. We’re very swamped right now. Had a nasty contagious virus come in on a cat from South Carolina and we’ve now had dozens of cases of it. This calls for all night stints.

With the end of summer and the beginning of school, Jonathan, a lovely 16 year old boy who’d volunteered EVERY DAY all summer long, has left us to go back to school. I tried to explain to his mom that this was a far better education but ...

Basil, who has worked here since last fall, first weekends and then full time all summer long, has reached that sassy sixteen and decided he has better things to do than work weekends anymore. He left a phone message quitting with no notice what so ever. So we’re short staffed until that weekend position can be filled.

One of our staff has been ill and may need some extended time off, making us short off and on during the week.

Wayne, our hero, continues to be here virtually every day doing what ever. He hauls gunk to the dump. Cleans what ever needs it. Hauls water when the well is acting up. He took early retirement, moved away from the city life, bought a home near the Refuge, just to volunteer full time.

I need more Wayne’s. But if you can’t be a Wayne, at least please be a volunteer. Come this weekend ready to work. It ain’t glamorous but it’s got to be done. Scooping, mowing (thankfully with the dry weather it isn’t too long), and loving critters.

If you’ve always wanted that perfect job - it’s your chance to apply now. 540-854-0870 x8 Or be here at 8 am Saturday or Sunday morning to audition for the job.

And it’s never just one thing. We’re a bit short in the financial department too. I had to borrow some bucks to cover things for August. Vet bills were higher than usual with all the sick cats. Semi-annually we order a lot of our drugs. I picked up over $500 of drugs at Culpeper Pharmacy yesterday and the new check out lady said “WOW !!”. She seemed shocked when I said, “Yes, and I’ll be back for more next week.” Just had to restock on vaccines, Feluk/FIV test kits, Heartworm/Lyme test kits. All it takes is a few extra bills for $500 or $700 here or there and we’re scraping the bottom of the bucket.

Jan did a wonderful thing and I’ll tell you about that later. She was the absolutely FIRST to donate in a new and exciting way. Jan is always at the forefront of innovative ideas for Rikki’s Refuge. If you can log on to http//www.paypal.com today and make a donation using mail@rikkisrefuge.org it will be greatly appreciated.

We’re going to have to put in a new well in the very near future too. And I need real help with this one. Not just financially but who’s got some expertise they can lend me? We have a relatively shallow well and it’s running out. Some days we do good. Others we’re hauling in water. Thank you Mike for that 125 gallon tank. Those of you who turn on city water have no idea what it’s like when you turn the faucet and nothing happens. It’s your problem. We’ve been using 2.5 gallon jugs to haul water. It takes a long time to fill and a long time to lug out and empty.

Our critters drink 400 gallons of water a day. DRINK. Then the cleaning takes about that much again on a light day. Forget laundry. You should see Lena down at the creek with a washboard. And water is heavy. That 125 gallon tank holds about 1,000 pounds of water. No kidding. Lots of weight. Thank you Daddy for the pick up which is running great and has no trouble hauling over 1,000 pounds at a time. I promise I’ll get time to call you soon.

So we need to be saving up the $s for a well. If you know a reliable, honest well company let me know. I’m hoping to talk to the experts and get some recommendations in the next week or so. In the meantime, if you can’t dig me a well, at least come scoop a cat run or dog run.

Thanks, Kerry

Sunday, August 20, 2006

Claire has Quintuplets

Claire is our matronly 16-year-old pig. She lives in Bailey's (the sheep, whom she evicted) house, right next to the kitchen door. What a perfect place for a pig, waiting for a handout, to live. Claire has three favorite activities. Eating, sleeping and eating.

Yesterday morning, Lena arrived for work at 4:30 a.m. Being late August, it is still dark at that time of the morning. She heard strange and funny sounds coming from Claire's house. Now Claire is a very vocal animal, so strange sounds emanating from her house is not unusual. But they usually sound more like grunts, snorts and growls, than squeaks and quacks. And these noises, very definitely, sounded like squeaks and quacks. And Claire usually doesn’t bother to wake up until she knows breakfast is ready.

Lena grabbed a flashlight and began to investigate. There was certainly something small and yellow in there. Sometimes Claire will share her house with an errant goat or dog, sometimes even an angry goose. But what was in there now?

Five baby ducks! Tiny, tiny little newborn baby ducks, or should that be new hatched baby ducks? And Claire was beginning to wake up, stir about, and rollover. Lena began to fear she would not be able to rescue the ducks before Claire world roll over and squish them. But just in time, Mary showed up, and helped to rescue the ducks, while Lena sat on Claire to keep her still.

So where did these ducks come from? Nobody had been sitting on a nest in Claire's house. No mama duck strolled protectively about. These were very definitely, very newborn. Lena showed them to our general duck population, who scoffed at them, and said, not ours. Several female ducks were tried out as surrogate mothers, but all rejected these babies.

This would be most unusual behavior as ducks are usually very protective of their young. Once in awhile, a duck or goose hides somewhere, and we don't find the nest, and their eggs hatch. We usually do not see the young until they are several days old, and mama parades them by at breakfast time. Usually orphaned ducks, geese, or chickens are adopted very quickly, by mama wannabes. But nobody would accept these ducks.

They are currently living in the LD Chicken Center until they get a little older, and can go out with the other baby birds. These are definitely ducks, I think. Rounded off bills, webby looking feet, yellow down, black streaks, and what looks like it will be enormous tail feathers. Most baby ducks I've seen are just short and rounded on the end, but these tails are very pointy, and stick way up.

Maybe that evil flying duck had babies and hid them in Claire's house, so we have to raise them, instead of her.Or maybe somebody risked the patrol dogs, Joe’s shotgun, and the attack goats, to sneak in and put them there.

Friday, August 18, 2006

Rags and Relics, End of Summer Sale, Half Price Section, Free-bee Section, Special Savings on Pet Supplies this Weekend

August 19 & 20, Saturday & Rags & Relics Sale

Located at 10525 Hook Rd, Route 725, just off route 20, 2.7 miles south of 522, that's .3 miles south of Rikki's driveway. New things, used things, craft things, gift things, pet things, decorations, clothing adult and kids, household items, furniture, pictures, dishes, linens, books, toys, baby stuff - you name it - you can buy it there - and all at a really great price. And every sale there will be a Half Price Special on certain items as well as the Free-bee Section. So don't miss out.

Sale every first full and third weekend of every month from 10 am till 2 pm. August 5/6 & 19/20, September 2/3 & 16/17, October 7/8 & 22/23, November 4/5 & 18/19, December 2/3 & 16/17.

It's only a quarter of a mile down route 20 from Rikki's Refuge Stop in on your way out to visit the animals. And just think. If you're a helper before the sales to set things up - you get first dibbs on the goodies.

This is a great volunteer opportunity for those of you who can't bear to see “the homeless animals”, or smell the poop. Support the animals, without having to deal with them. Contact Deloris, Ruler of Rags and Relics, if you'd like to be a volunteer or donate items for sale. Dee0849@cox.net

Learn all about us www.RikkisRefuge.org

Saturday, August 12, 2006

It's a Beautiful Cool Morning

And we are promised spectacular weather for the 2 pm tour. Come .... ready to meet all 800+ animals. Bring yummies and watch their excitement .... Ever heard an emu boom? Watched hundreds of baby chicks learn to fly? Seen 500+ lazy cats napping in the shade? It's such a lovely day maybe the cows will even be out instead of hiding in their cool forest. We've got room for you - no need to call - no phone lines today! Just be there at 2 pm. Gates will be opened at 1:30. Come on out.

Friday, August 11, 2006

Sometimes there is an animal that is just so good you cannot begin to fathom why its owners dumped it.

At Rikki's Refuge, we do not believe any animal should ever be dumped, or separated from its family, for any reason whatsoever. But sometimes you can understand how someone reached that frustration level and made that decision, as wrong as it may be. I have no doubt, if our pounds took human children, very few beyond the age of two would continue to reside in their homes.

But sometimes that rare animal comes to Rikki's Refuge, who has no bad habits, has never done anything wrong, is nothing but kind and loving and sweet and wonderful. And you can't help but wonder why, how could anyone get rid of something so fabulous.

Scruffy was one of those animals. He came to us on September 3, 2004. A big fat orange tabby, Morris type cat, 18 pounds and 16 years old and not a bad habit in the world. Though he was one of the most playful cats, we had ever seen at the age of 16, his owners had thought he was too old and not playful enough, and they wanted a kitten. So Scruffy was dumped at the pound, and a kitten was taken home to replace him.

Thankfully, Scruffy was somewhere where they cared. Very few people will adopt a 16 year old, no matter how wonderful they are. They tried and they tried, but no one would give Scruffy a home. In our unfortunate society, animals who do not get a home, are murdered, just killed and disposed of. But thankfully for Scruffy, and for all of us who came to know him and to love him, he was sent all the way from Shenandoah to Rikki's Refuge.

Scruffy had cataracts, a few tumors in his ears, and the biggest purr you have ever met. All it took to start that they rumble, was for someone to walk into the room and look in his direction. He loved to be held, he'd love to be petted, he'd love to be fed. He was always happy. He was always there to greet the newcomers, welcome them to Rikki's Refuge, and show them the food bowl. No matter how much he ate, he was always willing to share. Never once did he smack anybody else. Even little orphan kittens, who would run across him while he was sleeping.

Scruffy was just the best natured guy you could possibly imagine. Everybody fell in love with Scruffy. And he continued to be healthy, as he got close to 18 years old. About a month ago he had some gastric disturbances, the first health problems he'd ever had. Soon they seem to be clear to. Though he continued to act just like himself, he began to lose some weight. A suspicious lump was felt in his abdomen. I was sure I knew the answer, but I just had to check it out, just in case there was anything in the world we could do for our Scruffy.

Without exploratory surgery, which would be strictly diagnostic, and not for the purpose of curing anything, we would not know for absolute certain. But the blood work, the x-rays, and palpating the abdomen all pointed toward the same dire conclusion. Almost certainly, liver cancer. Comfort care was all we had left offer. The best most exotic food money could buy, and more love and pets and kisses than anybody could ask for.

When Scruffy finally began to show symptoms, his health went downhill very quickly, and he was gone within two days. He crossed over the Rainbow Bridge at about one o'clock today, August 11, 2006.

Scruffy is survived by Jason, who was one of his biggest fans (Jason would look forward to his weekends at Rikki's Refuge, so Scruffy, who he called Meat, could sit on his lap and purr and spend the nights out in his RV with him.) By Easter, his shy little wife, who would cuddle up in his arms for protection every night, and run, lickity split at the first sign of human life. By Lena, Mary, Amanda, Kevin, Basil, and me, whose days were brightened every day, by Scruffy in the office. By Joe, who’d come into the office every morning, and say, “hey, where's fat ass?”, and Scruffy would come running for a morning pet or treat. By Wayne and Jonathan, volunteers who visit almost every day, and always stopped to pat Scruffy. And by every other cat in the 9th Life Retirement, Assisted Living and Psychiatric Center, who will miss sharing their dinner with. Except Timothy, who is hoping to get Scruffie’s share.

Thursday, August 10, 2006

Saturday, August 12th: Tour Rikki's Refuge

RSVP an absolute must so we don't over crowd. On a tour you can meet the Cats of Feline Fields and the 9th Life Retirement, Assisted Living and Psychiatric Center, the Dogs of Doggy Downs, the Pigs of Piggy Paradise, the Rabbits of Rabbit Rotunda, the Guinea Pigs of Cavy Castle, the Emus of Emu Estates, the Horses of Horsey Haven, the Chickens and Roosters of Chicken City, the Guinea Fowl of Guinea Fowl Grounds, the Peacocks of Peacock Prowls, the Pigeons of Pigeon Palace, the Geese of Goosey Gardens, the Ducks of Ducky Digs, the Sheep of Ramsey Residence, the Goats of Capri Corners, the Cows of Bovine Boulevard, the Turkeys of Turkey Terrace, the Chukars of Chukar Chalet, and who ever else is staying with us at the time.

You will get to interact with the friendly cats and dogs, feed the pigs (bring apples) and sheep and goats and rabbits (bring carrots) and learn the story of why Rikki's is here and where we are going. You will see what day-to-day life is like at the refuge and you will also be invited to join in our volunteer efforts to build new housing for new animals. Tours run about two hours and you should wear waterproof shoes, old clothes, long pants, sun lotion, hats, etc; dress for the weather as it's all outdoors and you will get wet, muddy and slobbered on! Warning - lots of prickles and hooves so sandals and shorts aren't recommended. Visit our gift shop. Buy a T-shirt for all your loved ones. Bring your camera, you'll get great shots of the excited animals thrilled by your attention.

For the safety of our animals we must limit the number of people on a tour. And so we can continue to provide our animals with the care they need we have to schedule tours around their needs, medical appointments, etc. Please remember animals don't run on a schedule and a tour date may be canceled if an animal needs our immediate attention. If you'd like to join us on a tour please call 540-854-0870 or e-mail us at mail@rikkisrefuge.org for a reservation.

Upcoming Tour Dates:Saturday, August 12th and Monday, September 4th.

Reserve your slot today: mail@rikkisrefuge.org

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

Animal war refugees in Israel and Lebanon need help

Life at Rikki's sometimes gets complicated. Water lines break, supplies run out, people who offer to help never show up. When it gets hot, dirty and difficult taking care of hundreds of animals we can forget how good we actually have it. Whatever crisis we face each day, we don't have to rescue and care for animals while bombs are dropping over our heads.

Each year, thousands of animals become war refugees. Over the last few weeks, fighting in Israel and Lebanon has left hundreds of pets abandoned and shelters filled to the breaking point. Animal rescue volunteers in Israel and Lebanon have risked their lives from day one to get the abandoned pets, shelter animals, and animals locked in zoos to safer locations, and to set up feeding stations for the animals they can not move.

If you would like more info on the groups that are working to save the animals in this area, check out:

http://www.israelanimalallies.blogspot.com/ -- for updated info on the players involved in Israel (news is posted in English and Hebrew)

and for news from Lebanon:

http://beta.beirut.com/ -- rescuing pets and zoo animals. (This group is not affiliated with peta.)

A Problem with the Well

Posted by Kerry through Flickr



On Monday, August 31, you heard my plea for a plumber. A plea that went unanswered. As so many of mine do. It must be God's plan to teach us self-sufficiency here at Rikki's Refuge. The first issue of the day, every day, is to take care of the animals. Water. Food. Cleanup. Of course, the medical crew is working at the same time also. Kevin and Basil were ready to go to work making sure everybody had enough water. Jonathan showed up to volunteer and help. There were only minor groans, when they heard the well was producing no water. They grabbed a truck and went off to retrieve stored water. Soon all the animals were getting fresh water for the morning.

Joe was peering down the well, grumbling all sorts of obscenities, when Kenny showed up to volunteer for the day. Knowing it would take several people to work on the well, Kenny jumped in with the watering, feeding and cleaning so we would get done earlier than usual.

Well before noon, all the animals were happily snoozing in the shade, and Joe, Kenny, Kevin, Basil and Jonathan were ready to get to work on the well.

Joe and Fran pulled up a chair, and took their supervisory positions.

The pressure switch was repaired. But still, there was no water. The well was primed, and the water began to run slowly. The real problem had to be 30 feet below.

Monday, August 07, 2006

Bam Bam, the Fearful Feral

Bam Bam came to Rikki's Refuge in October of 2005.Bam Bam was a very young little boy. Bam Bam was very sick. Bam Bam had a horrible eye infection, and a terrible respiratory infection. Bam Bam was very scared of people.Bam Bam had never known a human to be nice to him. And now he would spend the next six months in a cage, being treated for his illnesses and injuries. This meant having his painful eye touched, getting poked with needles, having wounds scrubbed out, being held down and force-fed when he was too sick to eat. All this treatment, of course, made him feel much more comfortable about the human species.

By the time he was ready to be released to a cat house, he knew for certain, humans were evil. He was all healed, except for scar tissue over his left eye, leaving him partially blind. We thought he would be thrilled to roam in the 2000 square-foot freedom of his very own feral cat house. But instead, he cowered in the corner in terror. Too frightened to even come out and eat. After a few days, we felt too sorry for him, and brought him into the 9th Life Retirement, Assisted Living and Psychiatric Center. He felt much more comfortable back in his usual surroundings.

Finally he began to play. A group of other young ferals moved in, including Cola, a little feral girl, who was dispensed from a Coca-Cola machine one-day. They became good buddies. They romped and played. Soon Cola and her friends were ready to go out to a feral cat run. We thought Bam Bam would be happy to go with them. But again, poor Bam Bam was terrified. He huddled in the corner, refusing to eat. Soon he was back in the 9th Life Retirement, Assisted Living and Psychiatric Center.

But all the young ones were out playing and having fun, and the old folks didn’t much appreciate Bam Bam. One day Bam Bam decided if he didn't have young cats play with, he would play with humans, and he skittered out from underneath the couch and jumped on human ankles as they walked through his room. Soon you couldn't walk by, without Bam Bam clinging onto your ankles. It didn't take much longer before he let us pet him. And now he's become a very precious, but still frightened, little boy.

Sometimes in his racing about, he'll slide between our feet and into the next room. He stands perfectly still, looking first in one direction and then the next, absolutely terrified of the monsters that may await in the unknown. He is completely petrified, until we pick him up and take him back to his room. Then he goes back to being happy Bam Bam.

We keep trying, and we will keep trying, to acclimate him to a feral cat house, because we think he would be happier with lots of young friends, and 100 foot runway to race and charge, and big climbing toys to reach new heights. But every time he tries out a cat house, he feigns absolute terror, refuses to eat, and gets returned to the 9th Life Retirement, Assisted Living and Psychiatric Center. I'm not sure if he belongs in the Assisted Living for the Mentally Handicapped Section or the Psychiatric Center, but he sure isn’t a feral cat!

He still has some of the usual skittish feral attitudes, like the terror of being lifted off his feet.But he’d make a wonderful pet for somebody willing to give him the patience, love, and understanding that he deserves. Do you have another kitty or two friend for Bam Bam, and the love in your heart to welcome him in?

Friday, August 04, 2006

Please save somebody today

Posted by Kerry through Flickr

Save a cat or dog
Originally uploaded by rikkis_refuge.
Robin at the Shenandoah County Animal Shelter in Shenandoah, Virginia is in need of desperate help. She writes, “We have 32 dog runs in our shelter and we have a total of three open today. With more dogs coming in today. If I don' find some help soon we are going to have to put several down tomorrow. All are good dogs, most are altered with rabies shots. If you know anyone who can help me please call me at 540-984-8955. As always I appreciate everything you do for us and the animals.”

Robin does an outstanding job of trying to save the animals. But the general public keeps dumping them. By law, she has no choice, when they are full they must move them out. The law doesn’t care how they are moved - dead or alive. Robin does everything possible to avoid killing them to move them, but if somebody doesn’t take them home, she is given no choice.

Please help a dog and Robin today.

Thanks, Kerry

As I walked through the LD Chicken Center I heard the file drawer snap shut

Only one thing makes that sound. Meg, evil office kitty, shutting herself inside a file cabinet. Yes, you read that right. Not only can Meg open a file drawer, she can close it behind herself. For years, we wondered how it was that we would frequently find her inside a shut file drawer, dresser drawer, kitchen drawer, or any other type of drawer. Then one day I saw it. Meg is a climber. She came to us in 1999, healing from a broken hip. She wasn’t able to jump for the next couple of years. So she learned to climb any surface. Right up the front of the kitchen cabinets, desks, file cabinets, and walls. Nothing stops Meg.

Meg climbs up the front of a file cabinet, hangs on to the handle of the drawer just below the one she wants to get into, reaches up and pulls the handle on the drawer over her head, and as the drawer begins to slide open, she heaves herself up and into the opening. Now this is pretty clever for a cat. Of course, I frequently wonder who is the smarter species around here! But the next step is what absolutely amazes me. She reaches out, and pulls the drawer shut, sealing herself inside. Never once is she stuck, because when it's time to get out, she knows how to push the drawer open from the inside.

Meg, the amazing office cat. Meg, who has a voracious appetite for paper. Bad, bad combination in your file drawer.

Of course there are supposed to be no cats in the LD Chicken Center, only my developmentally slow chickens. I do hope Meg has not learned how to open the door to their room too. I suppose if she has, she can sell the tickets for quite a large sum. There's always a long line of hungry kitties outside the LD Chicken Center. Meg, you better remember the rules about not eating other residents of the Refuge !

Thursday, August 03, 2006

Chickens . . . the continuation . . .

Posted by Kerry through Flickr
Baby chicksn
Rescued baby chicken
Originally uploaded by rikkis_refuge.

A few posts back we began telling you about our "Great Chicken Rescue of the Summer of '06". With the baby chickens in various degrees of stress, we were about to lose the battle. And if these little babies got wet, they would die. The emergency solution would be to shut down one room of the "9th Life Retirement, Assisted Living and Psychiatric Center", and declare it as the baby chicken day care area. Chickens, or whatever they are. They all look alike when they are little. Basil is hoping we end up with 300 and some odd ostriches. I am not!

We grabbed six huge dog carriers, and began to load the babies up. We were working as fast as we could, and covered them with a tarp as a temporary measure. It would not do to put baby birds into the same room as cats in the "9th Life Retirement, Assisted Living and Psychiatric Center". The cats had to be removed from one room first. The room selected, for ease of keeping cats out, was the room where Clementine, Witchy Poo, and Shyla hang out. Three of the most dangerous psycho cats. They were not pleased and were quick to use their claws to let us know it. Cleaning the human blood off the floor only delayed moving the baby birds in a little bit longer.

By the time we began carrying in the crates of baby birds it was pouring and the wind was blowing hard, with some gusts blowing into the crates. As soon as we had the birds inside, we had to dry anyone who was wet, and warm them up with the hair dryer. By 9 p.m. that night we had all the baby birds stable. And then we could get back to work finishing our regular jobs.

Most of the baby birds continued to grow rapidly. The few who didn't, were set aside in what came to be known as the "LD Chicken Section". Half a dozen still reside there today. Hopefully we will be able to mainstream them soon. The rest of the babies have a small enclosure in one of the day runs behind the "9th Life Retirement, Assisted Living and Psychiatric Center".

Rose, Spoke Chicken for the Head Injured, has always wanted to be a mother, or so she thought. She loves to sit on her eggs, and keeps checking them to see if they hatch (a forbidden activity at Rikki's). So we thought perhaps she would make an ideal mother for several hundred little babies! She was horrified, and wanted to go home to Rabbit Rotunda immediately. We are hoping a volunteer mother will step forward soon.

Wednesday, August 02, 2006

Why do we care if you have a fenced yard, a job or a plan on caring for your pet?

Lots of people who want to adopt a pet believe they should be able to walk up to whatever animal they find appealing and take him home. When they have to fill out an adoption application, or they are told that a particular animal would not be a good fit for their lifestyle, they get annoyed.

If you are one of these people, take a few minutes to read this powerful (but short) article by Sally Hull called "Interview at a Dog Pound". It will help you understand -- it might even make you change your perspective.

If you are a rescuer, don't read this article at work.

The day started at 4:45 a.m. with Francesca in a diabetic coma

Lena scooped her up and started a sub-q fluid drip. I drew blood, and had a glucose level reading of LO, this means less than 30, this means very serious. I mixed the powdered glucose, and began to drip it into her mouth. Mary arrived, grabbed a thermometer, Francesca's temperature was only 92°. Very serious.

Mary loaded the heating disks into the microwave (thank you Jan for having donated several, they have been lifesavers over and over again), grabbed the hair dryer, and began to warm Francesca's belly. Soon Francesca began to thrash and kick. By 6:30 a.m. she was fully responsive, with a blood glucose level of 100, and body temperature of 97°. Still low on the body temp, and the blood glucose level now a bit high, but we were out of the critical phase.

What happened to Francesca? Diabetics are so very fragile, it can take something very small to upset the blood glucose level. The central air-conditioning wasn't working yesterday evening, the coils had frozen up from too much use. After trying off and on to defrost it, watching the temperature rise in the 9th Life Retirement, Assisted Living and Psychiatric Center, I finally turned it off, and began to run window units in each room. Perhaps Francesca had gotten a little too hot.

Perhaps she’d felt a little too warm to eat a full evening meal. I only had celery and crackers for dinner, a cool meal, but probably not a good one to keep your blood glucose level regulated. Of course Francesca had refused to share my dinner, and nibbled on her Purina canned diabetic diet, which thankfully she loves. Usually animals who are supposed to be on a special diet, hate that special diet.

Francesca also has a number of health issues in addition to her diabetes. Any of which could have flared up, causing the low blood sugar incident. For now it looks like she'll be fine. Annoyed. But OK. Her blood glucose level will be checked every hour throughout the day. Which means getting stuck with needles, a lot of times, an ordeal which no cat enjoys, but one for which Francesca is always very good.

Her temperature will be taken every 30 minutes, until we know she's holding normal. The amount of insulin she receives will be based on her hourly glucose readings. Thankfully, Dr. Vargas of Culpepper Animal Hospital, has taught us all we need to know to take care of Francesca, right here in Rikki's Refuge’s own hospital. The emergency incident this morning that took Lena, Mary, and me and hour and a half to get under control, would have cost over $600, in the emergency hospital, if we could've gotten there in time even to save her life. Thank God for small favors.

Tuesday, August 01, 2006

Let's play dress up!

cat in boa
um, why
Originally uploaded by mizz d.
This beautiful cat is modeling on the the Flickr Cats in Clothes group.

Rikki's doesn't have any photos for that group yet -- or the "Cats in Costumes" or "Dogs in Costumes" groups, but we would love to. We're planning a dress up photo day at the refuge for all the animals! Save your hats, old t-shirts, plastic beads -- the works. We will schedule "dress up photo day" when it gets cooler (It's over 100 degrees at the refuge today -- but we have lots of shade).

Everyone will be invited. Of course any of the animals at the refuge who do not want to play will have that option.

Baby birds . . . coming out of my ears!

So, you heard about the baby birds, who arrived on July 21. In just 10 short days, they have already eaten over 100 pounds of baby chicken food. They are growing, and growing feathers.

A few days ago I started to tell their tale. After getting a phone call that went, “Hi there. I've got several boxes of baby birds here, they're half dead, do you want them?”, Lena and I ran off to the rescue and brought several boxes of birds back to Rikki's.

The next several hours at the refuge were spent with everyone available, eyedroppering water into tiny little beaks. Six people, trying to save several hundred birds, is a very difficult job. We separated them into batches, based on their strength and health. Some were ready to start eating, all we had on hand was adult bird mash, but it would do in a pinch.

Others needed their little bodies warmed with a hair dryer, and water dripped into their little beaks. Obviously, there was nothing we could do about the ones that were already dead, except give them a home at our Rainbow Bridge Cemetery.

Thankfully, we lost very few throughout the day. After several hours, when they were all stabilized, we had to figure out where they were going to live. Vincent, Slinky, Timmy, Boss Man, and several of the other naughty kitties had some pretty good ideas. However, we humans, had a major difference of opinion.

We began to build an area in one of the day runs off the 9th Life Retirement, Assisted Living and Psychiatric Center. (If you need an explanation on the name, just come out and visit.) It would have to be protected from the weather, and have heat lamps, so the little babies would stay about 100° for the first few days. While Basil and Jonathan began to build, I went to the store for baby chicken supplies. Normally, you could walk into any farm store, and walk out with all the baby chicken food, chicken waterers, and everything you needed. Everybody in all the 4-H clubs had bought up all the supplies, to show off the baby animals they had been raising. I had to go to three stores, and still did not have everything I needed.

The baby bird area was almost built, when the sky turned black, and the wind began to blow. Was there a chance in heck that we could get the job done, before we got soaked? Drip, drip, drip, . . . . Sorry, this will have to be continued . . . . I get yelled at when I blog to long . . . .