Humane Officers still find happy endings

September 29, 2005

There are still some miracles left in the city.
That’s the mantra that keeps rescue workers at the Louisiana Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals continuing daily missions into New Orleans, searching for survivors in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina.

To date, more than 8,000 displaced pets have been rescued, and at least 500 of them have been reunited with their owners, and thousands have been exported to shelters and foster homes around the country. The rescue effort, lead by the LA/SPCA, the oldest and largest animal welfare organization in the state, has drawn volunteer help from across the country.

Humane Officer Jennifer Ranero has been with the LA/SPCA for one year, and the 24-year-old hasn’t had a day off since animal rescue teams were allowed in to New Orleans. She often rides with Officer Tasha Gray, 22, who had joined the team just two months before the hurricane hit. Their days, which have begun at 5 a.m. since the storm hit, are sometimes heartwarming, often heartbreaking and always exhausting.

Both ladies get excited whenever they hear barking or meowing upon their arrival these days – it means that there’s still life in the house. But unfortunately, more than five weeks after the storm hit, many of the homes requesting a rescue are now silent.

When the pets are alive, after living without human interaction for so long, they’re very scared or aggressive. While the officers are trained to handle aggressive dogs, it’s still hard for them to see the animals in poor condition – on one recent day the worst is an Akita mix, who bites down on the metal control pole so hard that blood oozes out of his mouth in chunks. The dogs have no idea that the officers are only there to help – to remove them from a dangerous situation and take them to a place where veterinary care, food, clean water and companionship are waiting.

On the same day, another tough call is to a building that appears to have been a hotel before the storm. An owner reported two large dogs inside. The officers bang on all the doors, yelling “SPCA” so that any person inside won’t be alarmed, but nobody answers, and no bark is heard. Upstairs, one small dog is found lying dead, part of his body cannibalized. In another room, a small poodle lies dead, his sparkling blue collar still perfectly intact. The two large dogs cannot be found anywhere, although fresh dog footprints are found – they may be roaming the streets. The unconfined dogs are already starting to create packs in the Bywater and Lower Ninth Ward neighborhoods – a dangerous situation for other dogs, cats and people.

“You really feel like you’re in the Twilight Zone and it’s just a bad dream,” Ranero says, adding that she’s ready to wake up.

A cat is reported to be trapped inside of a Mid City home. The officers break in and are unable to find the feline, but the house isn’t without life. A small python is coiled up in an aquarium. On a table nearby, a small mouse is hiding – she was most likely on the menu for the python a month ago. After some debate among the group – which includes three out-of-state officers who came to New Orleans to volunteer – it is decided that after the mouse has spent five weeks alone with a python in a flooded home, the mouse will live to see another day.

Officer Sheila Oconnell, a volunteer from North Carolina, laughs as she puts the mouse in a holding box before loading it onto the truck, “Some days your victories are big, and some days they’re small.”

At the end of the day, the officers drive the animals to a triage center where they are checked in and looked at by veterinarians. On the way there, several construction workers spot the trucks and frantically wave their arms. They’ve heard animal noise coming from the house next to where they’ve been working, and nobody has come by to check on the pets.

The water line on the home shows that the structure was flooded with at least three feet of water inside, so any pets left alive must have been living on furniture, and haven’t had anything to eat or drink in weeks. Knocking on the door, they hear barking inside. As they gently pop open the door, two emaciated dogs – a shepherd mix and a terrier -- come running, licking the rescue workers’ faces as if to say, “We’ve been waiting for you! What took you so long? I hope you brought some good food!”

This house alone has made the entire day worthwhile. For a few minutes, the officers forget about the bronchitis they’ve all been battling sparked by the mildew in the houses they’re searching, the scratch and bite marks on their bodies and their growling stomachs – with a workload like this, they don’t have much time to eat. This reminds them why they cannot give up searching for miracles.

“You look into their eyes and see the excitement and the pain,” Ranero says. “You know they don’t ever want to be left behind again.”

By Amber Bethel
 

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