Sunday, September 28, 2008

Hemingway Cats: Bureaucracy Gone Amok


Key West, Florida—it’s a sleepy little island that’s hosted pirates, presidents and celebrities. It’s laid back. So laid back the locals called it Key Weird. I loved visiting Key Weird. And it is… really weird.

It’s also the home of Ernest Hemingway, Amelia Earhart, Louisa May Alcott, Truman Copote and many other famous names. Okay, I know that the MIA aviatrix was born in Kansas and Capote took his first breath in New Orleans. This Earhart and Capote have four feet and purr. They are residents of the Ernest Hemingway Home and Museum—descendents of the author’s original treasured polydactyl cat, Snowball. There are some 50 contented kitties living on the one-acre Hemingway compound.

A couple of years ago a disgruntled cat-detesting neighbor complained about the Hemingway Museum being a nuisance because the occasional feline would scale the brick wall and explore the neighborhood. The United States Department of Agriculture (USDA) charged to the rescue. What makes the Hemingway cats the business of the esteemed USDA? Expense accounts—those poor agents have to trek to a popular resort town on the government’s dime (meaning you and I pay for the “work” trip) to investigate. The USDA determined that they had jurisdiction because the cats are an exhibit similar to a circus. That’s right, the cats, who get weekly vet checks and spend their time wandering the grounds are in the same category with performing tigers and zoo exhibits. (Can you say “Margaritas on an unlimited expense account?” Arriba!) The USDA continued to pursue the case even after judges dismissed it. At one point, the agency rented a room in a guesthouse near the Hemingway property in order to videotape the cats. There were midwinter visits to the sunny little island for high-ranking investigators, too. Yes indeed, ladies and gentlemen, our tax dollars at work.

In a time when contaminated food regularly makes its way onto our grocery store shelves and sometimes even into our pet food bowls, it seems criminal that this government agency would become obsessed about 50 historically significant cats belonging to a museum.

The thing that makes this case all the more appalling is Key West has a huge feral chicken population. You read that right. In 2004, Assistant City Manager John Jones estimated Key West had between 1,500 and 2,000 feral chickens roaming the 2-mile by 4-mile long island. It’s against the law to hurt, kill, eat, harass or molest the chickens in Key West. In an age where one only whispers the words “bird flu”, you’d think the USDA would have more pressing things to worry about in Key West.

The USDA made lots of suggestions over the years including caging the cats, installing an electric fence (isn’t that a lawsuit waiting to happen?), and removing them outright. After five years, the agency came to its senses and contacted animal behaviorist and professor at the University of Florida's College of Veterinary Medicine in Miami, Terry Curtis, DVM. Dr. Curtis said in a report that the cats appeared "well-cared for, healthy and content" and suggested the museum install a special fence. Unlike the USDA, Dr. Curtis took into consideration the historic nature of the property and the safety of both the cats and museum visitors. She recommended the property be surrounded by Purr-Fect Fence, a patent pending cat containment system made by Purr-Fect Fence LLC. Sounds like they could have easily come up with the Purr-fect idea five years earlier. But with free trips to a Florida resort town, where’s the incentive?

Over the five-year battle the museum has spent more than $250,000 for lawyers and the fence. The question still boils about whether or not the museum should be required to get a USDA license for the cats. Once again, the courts might have to settle that question.

Remember, folks. The USDA sacrificed so much for you. You are now protected from those dangerous kitty cats at the Ernest Hemingway House and Museum. Now, anyone for fried chicken?

Tune in next week for more Confessions of a Cat Writer. Same Cat Time…Same Cat Channel.

(You can see pictures of the Hemingway cats and the Key West Chickens on my Zootoo page http://www.zootoo.com/profile/dustycatwriter.)

Dusty Rainbolt
Member of Cat Writers' Association & International Association of Animal Behavior Consultants
Host of Paranormal Pets on PetLifeRadio.com
Author of Cat Wrangling Made Easy: Maintaining Peace & Sanity in Your Multicat Home, Ghost Cats: Human Encounters with Feline Spirits, Kittens for Dummies, All the Marbles
www.dustyrainbolt.com

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

The Rise of the Phoeix


Today Phoenix rose from the ashes.

A month ago today I met a pathetic brown tabby kitten in a cage at my vet’s office. He was crying and laying on his side. He couldn’t walk, wouldn’t eat, he had a concussion, both eyes were dilated and one was grotesquely enlarged. A drunk man had locked himself in the bedroom and beat up his son’s cat. The equally drunk wife could only wait helplessly listening to the screams of the kitty.

I don’t know the chain of events, but a neighbor grabbed the 10 year old son and the cat and left with them. Kitty was taken to the emergency clinic. The boy to Child Protective Services. Our Angel of Mercy called some area rescue groups to find refuge for Kitty. They were either full or didn’t bother to return her call. Being tied up with bureaucrats and lawyers to protect the boy, she simply didn’t have time to devote to finding Kitty a sanctuary. She prayed for help. I happened to come to my vet’s and saw the pathetic little tabby cat. The tech told me the story. I took him. I had to. I don’t think I’ve ever been an answer to prayer, but someone (or something) put me in that vet’s office on that particular day at that exact moment.

Kitty stayed at the clinic for another day so his young owner could say goodbye. When I arrived to pick him up, the vet techs were so excited. The kid was there. He wanted to meet me. A lump formed in my throat. What would I say to a child who had been through so much? I found him and his Angel of Mercy in the surgery. The boy was sitting cross-legged on the floor with Kitty who was wrapped in a towel. The kid dangled a piece of string in front of the cat’s face. Half-heartedly Kitty would reach his paw out, although with his dilated eyes, I doubt he could see anything.

The vet tech introduced me to the boy as the lady who’s going to take Kitty. He ask me, “Is my kitty going to be alright?” I said I’d take good care of him. I joined him on the floor and asked, “Are you sure you want to do this? If I take your cat you’ll never see him again.” His answer will haunt me forever. “If you take him, he won’t be hurt again.” Apparently there's plenty of pain to go around in that family. I’m sure that child desperately needed the security and unconditional love his cat offered, yet he was willing to let him go to keep him safe. That little boy showed such maturity, such sacrifice. Only the best for that deserving little kitty cat. The boy and his rescuer left.

I renamed him Phoenix, because he also had burns on his face. He had a quiet little nest in my bathroom—an enclosed bed gave him a great place to hide. Poor little thing would fall over whenever he took a step. But he was gentle and a trooper. He let me force feed him and medicate him. A few days later the animal ophthalmologist diagnosed the enlarged eye with trauma-induced glaucoma and cataracts, but gave me no real prognosis.

Within a week of the attack, Phoenix rolled over on his back, his paws stretched above his head and showed me his tummy. He loved a neck scratch. (That’s when I discovered he had recently had an embedded collar.) Amazingly, Phoenix isn't hand shy like so many other abused cats. He’s a people cat, this one, following my hubby and me around the house like a puppy and claiming our laps whenever we’d light in a chair to watch TV.

The rest of his body and spirit healed, but despite the world-class animal ophthalmologist, Phoenix’s eye continued to swell. This morning, ended another chapter in the book of the Phoenix. Enucleation, vets call it. Nice, clean, medical. It means removal of the eye. The vet said the surgery went great. He’s waking up and can go home later today. Finally, he’ll be pain free and now we can concentrate on finding, not just a home, but the perfect home. There’s no rush. Phoenix can call me mom until that special someone comes along.

So now you know part of the story of a brave boy, a brave cat, an angel of mercy and woman whose life has been changed forever them.

(I’m sorry this one isn’t funny. Sometimes life isn’t funny. If you’d like to donate to Phoenix’s mounting medical bills by paypal, (or to help so many other needy cats and dogs) please go to: http://animalalliesoftexas.org/SupportAAT/Donations.aspx?ID=12&MenuID=3& and write “Phoenix” in the comments box. I thank you and Phoenix thanks you.)

Tune in next week for more Confessions of A Cat Writer. Same Cat Time, Same Cat Station.

Sunday, September 21, 2008

Paranormal Pets-Yeah Baby!

Can we talk....?

You may not know this but I have a radio background. Okay, I may not have been a famous on-air personality, but a bunch of my friends were. Now I'm doing it for real. I need some guests for my show Paranormal Pets.

Paranormal Pets is a program about the unexplained in the animal world. We have Bizarre Animal News, a guest and then we end with our Haunted Travel Guide, which includes hotels or public spots that are haunted by animals.

Are you a Bigfoot aficionado or chupacabra collector? Did the Loch Ness Monster ever ask you for $3.50? Have you sat down to tea with the Yeti? Maybe your cat (or dog or hamster, python or horse) has visited you from beyond the grave. Has anyone written a book about animal mythology or animal ghosts? Does your living dog or cat react to your own resident undead? Have you stayed in a hotel or B&B, or visited a public place haunted by an animal?

If you answered yes to any of these questions, contact me. We need to talk!

And if you're interested in the unexplained with an animal twist, tune in to Paranormal Pets at www.PetLifeRadio.com and expect the unexpected.

Purrs,
Dusty Rainbolt