Involved with every Blog the Change for Animals event since the start, I have always shared beautiful causes that are important to me while encouraging others to take up a cause of their own. That call to action doesn’t come lightly or without personal expectation, too. That said, I have an exciting announcement to make…

Having banded together with Dawn Niebuhr, Lori Harris, Audra Bentley, and my husband Tim Clune, it is with great pleasure that we introduce our new rescue child into this world… along with the first litter of gorgeous stray puppies who need us!

MEET DOG HOUSE ADOPTIONS OF RENSSELAER COUNTY, NY!

Dog House Adoptions provides a safe, loving place for unclaimed strays to go when their holding time is up. The way we see it, dogs are not throw away items. Their lives have value and, when the community comes together to support their needs, the dogs do something miraculous. No matter how weary, weathered or worn, they give back with their whole hearts.

Our plans are lofty (more on that later), but our priorities are simple:

• Care for the dogs who need us now
• Educate children to protect the dogs of the future
• Provide dogs a means to serve the community who serves them
• Accomplish each stage with a sense of humor

WORDS: REALITY’S BUILDING BLOCKS

While our Executive Director (Dawn) provides hands-on care and boarding of strays at Creekside Kennel, and the board (Tim, Lori and Audra) crafts policies that help both animals and people, my job is to build a presence with words and beautiful images, to tell a moving story that engages people to great ends, and to do so in a way that feels good – because the shadow of sadness hanging over rescue deters people from becoming a committed solution. And our approach is working!

COMMUNITY: OUR LIFEBLOOD

We want to offer our dogs ways to engage with the community, to create a symbiotic relationship of giving and getting back between people and animals, yet we are currently receiving so much more than we offer. Generous and knowledgeable people keep calling to help – without solicitation. Just a few examples:

• The Rensselaer County Chamber of Commerce offered a ribbon cutting ceremony for us at their 112th Annual Dinner in front of more than 450 local businesses.
• Marlene Wagner, a certified dog trainer for whom I hold the highest regard, offered to speak about the differences between family dogs vs. rescue dog interactions at next week’s maiden volunteer orientation.
• My neighbor, Debbie Riganti, called to say that she read every word and checked every link on our website for accuracy and functionality.

As exciting as this all is, none of these moments were…

THE MOMENT IT BECAME REAL

Leave it to a dog to open my eyes. Bristol, a sweet and speedy young girl who we affectionately call a Nascar Lab blend, came to us with scars and scabs from a traumatic mating and with her own puppy pit crew on board. Lisa Drury, a reputable lab breeder, took Bristol in, delivered her pups, and is caring for them until they are properly weaned. When I asked to photograph the puppies without imposing on Lisa more than we already had, her response is what brought it all home:

Not an inconvenience at all! They are YOUR puppies!!

I HAVE PUPPIES

The weight of those words settled in around my shoulders like warm wrap. This was not a burdensome weight, but a commitment of love and determination to do my best for these innocent lives. I sat still with that thought, wholly embraced it as my version of motherhood, and then grabbed my photo gear with the excitement of a child off to a birthday party.

Meet the  Puppy Pit Crew: Danica, Dale Jr., Tony and Kasey!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QA0EtXnFccs

Did I mention that folks think they might be Nascar/Bull Mastiff blends? I guess that means I have PUPPIES (<- in big letters). These kiddos are already larger than a healthy lab pup at just 3 weeks. This video is from week 1, and there will be much, much more to come!

THANK YOU FOR YOUR SUPPORT!

Many of you have heard our lofty ideas (to be announced soon) and encouraged this project. I am so grateful for the enthusiasm. To Mike Arms, the entire staff at the Helen Woodward Animal Center, and Kyla Duffy , we couldn’t have come this far so fast without your trail-blazing knowledge, experience, guidance and inspiration.

For those of you who wish to support us through our first growth spurt, please share our adoptable dogs, volunteer, and get our e-newletter through DogHouseAdoptions.org. You can also follow us on Facebook , Twitter, and Google+.

Join us on this amazing journey.
The dogs would love to have you.

When we came home from vacation on Sunday, to our delight, spring had fully sprung. Missing crocus season entirely, we stepped off the plane straight into full blooming daffodils. Willows leafed out in tender green waves. Red maples reached out their tiny leaves in search of the sun’s warmth. And our resident bear came out of hibernation before we emptied the last inch of winter bird seed from the storage can.

We had a heads up from the house sitter, mind you, and we would have emptied the last of the seed upon coming home had I not been plagued with a medical distraction. Having gained 12 pounds worth of edema in my legs, I was busy limping through 7 doctors’ consults, from ruling out blood clots to detecting what is likely a strange side effect of taking Celebrex. (Thank goodness it wasn’t the salt in the Margaritas! That, I couldn’t live with.)

Exhausted from it all, Tim and I hit the pillow early and hard by Wednesday. We craved a solid night’s sleep, but it was not to come.

At 11:00 PM, we were woken by something going thud in the night. Cats! we thought as we stumbled through the dark in search of what might have broken. I searched the back of the house. Tim took the front. And as he stepped onto the sun porch, a large, dark, moving shadow startled him.

“Kim … KIM!” he whispered with alarm. “It’s the BEAR!”

Tim’s hand instinctively reached for the video camera. After firing it up, he passed it to me so he could calm the dogs. The bear made two passes around the sunflower seed storage but was leery of the whining, pacing canines inside. Still, he or she settled in for a long snack.

The short film below features a 4 minute compilation of the bear’s 45 minute visit. Watch, at minute 1:09, as a brave little mouse races right past the bear’s face. It happens quickly, so keep your eyes peeled.

On Thursday, the bear returned to find the can emptied at the far side of the yard, lid off. This was our way of demonstrating that no reason exists to visit us again, not that it worked. Under the apple trees at dusk, the bear lay licking scattered seeds from the lawn, one at a time – until Tim scared him off with a blast of the car horn. Last night, the bear found the empty can now stored behind the far shed. We know because the lid was removed by morning.

Perhaps tonight, we will no longer be seen as serving free lunch.
One can only hope.

Have you taken your feeders down?

Our story left off with Jeannette, the wildlife rehabilitator, whisking our suddenly struggling porcupine down the hill for emergency veterinary care. Once in the compassionate care of Joyce, a vet technician in Guilderland, the ticks (a sign of a compromised immune system) were carefully removed from our girl’s face. She also received fluids, antibiotics and pain medication. With no concrete determinations that night, Jeanette wrote, “Joyce and I will do absolutely anything for her if the vet feels she has any chance of recovery.”

I waited all night and the following day for word. The following evening, the phone rang. The news ripped through my heart like a freight train. A spinal injury, likely caused by a car, paralyzed our porcupine’s limbs. Extensive abdominal bleeding pointed toward a week old injury. There was no saving her. And so she was laid to rest.

That which we are is absolute. There is no adding to it, no superseding this accomplished self. It is final and universal. All that remains is thoroughly to explore it.

- D.H. Lawrence from the essay “The Crown,”
Reflections on the Death of a Porcupine (1925)

I’ve since searched through hours of footage and many photographs looking for signs of injury. I say with certainty that our porcupine was functioning well as she rambled through the woods and shook melted snow from her quills like a dog. At first sighting, I thought maybe she had a limp but, researching videos of the typical porcupine gait, hers was no different.

At the same time, I often pondered her inability to see, her lack of desire to climb the apple tree for safety at night. Without prior access to porcupines in the wild, there was no way for me to know, to compare, to question. Whatever her physical issues, our porcupine was perfect in that moment I knew her – and beyond.

 We are creatures of time and space. And we are at once creatures of pure transcendence, absolved from time and space, perfected in the realm of the absolute, the other-world of bliss.

- D.H. Lawrence from the essay “Love,”
Reflections on the Death of a Porcupine (1925)

Freed from that which ailed her, our porcupine visitor became both finite and perpetual. And I will never forget her perfection as she blessed my life with the tremendous gift of her presence.

Porcupine Portraits

This is my final piece in this series. If you missed the stories and footage of our delightful porcupine when she first arrived, please visit:

•  An Unlikely Encounter with a Porcupine
• Return of the Porcupine, an Apple Fest
• Porcupine, Fawns and Turkeys – A Winter Woodland Celebration
• Porcupine Situation Gets Sticky

MOVING IN

After my woodland birthday celebration on that snowy Thursday in October, our resident porcupine made herself scarce. Then, as Tim woke to let the dogs out on Saturday, he saw her nestled against the chain link fence with her quills pointed through into the dog yard. With the dogs crossing their legs in need of morning relief, an hour ticked slowly by before the porcupine finally wandered off again.

That night, the dogs nearly climbed the 6 foot fence, frothy white saliva flying this way and that, as they barked themselves into a frenzy. In the glow of the house floodlights, we saw our little porcupine curled up in a half-igloo just 3 feet from the fenced yard. As Tim and I dragged the dogs inside, the Newf nearly went through the sun room window in pursuit, leaving swipes of muddy footprints smeared across the glass. It took great effort, but we wrangled both dogs into the main house and slammed the door shut.

MOVING ON?

We were perplexed. The dogs were in danger with the porcupine so near. It was also dangerous for a porcupine to sleep in the open where coyotes are known to traverse.

Encouraging the porcupine to move on, Tim nudged her gently with a broom until she rambled through the powdery snow and over the rock wall 2 acres away. When she entered the forest with her oddly swift and rolling gate, we hoped she’d climb a tree for the night. It would mean safety for all involved.

NOT MOVING

At daybreak, the porcupine was back once more. Hunched near the cubby she built the night prior, her body rocked forward. Her hands rested on the ground. Tim gently caressed her back with the broom, bristle to bristle. No response but a downtrodden shiver. Our hearts ached not to be able to touch her directly, to comfort her. One would think our presence would incite fear, but this little porcupine seemed to seek us out.

I dialed friends and left messages with every nearby wildlife rehabilitator. Finding somebody home on a Sunday morning was proving impossible. I spoke mainly with answering machines.

The best we could offer our sweet girl were apples in hopes that she’d eat and hydrate. We provided the cover of a clear plastic tub tipped upside down. Tim propped one end for air flow and checked often that it didn’t get too warm in the sun. Mostly, we hovered a ways back to avoid adding stress.

The phone buzzed in my pocket. Finally, a call back. The woman’s name was Jeannette and she said she’d transport our girl. Terrific. But could she find a vet to treat her through all those quills? She’d get back to us.

The wait grew long. We watched the porcupine slump further until she was fully on her side, her front foot pawing at the air, her breathing labored, and a shiver running the length of her body time and again.

I called Jeanette back. She found a vet for Tuesday.

“That’s too long. She won’t last another few hours.” I hung up and cried.

MOVING OUT

Jeanette made the hour-long trek and tiptoed through the side yard snow with open-toe sandals, a pair of leather garden gloves in hand. “You got a lot more snow up here than we did,” she said as she donned her gloves.

We discussed the best plan for transport and Jeanette reached for our ailing visitor. “Sweet girl,” she said in a soft, motherly voice.

Quills made contact with Jeannette’s uncovered wrists without effect. Tim and I watched helplessly yet in awe of how easily the porcupine was moved. She lay calm and still without any sign of resistance, even from her one capable paw. I now believed , in full, that she trusted us to help.

We gave up our bin for transport and sent Jeanette with $100 toward vet care, although she said it wasn’t necessary. Ice cold tears spilled down my cheek as we watched the car roll back down the mountain. Our porcupine was in the best hands possible, but with her quick decline we held little hope.

—

Come back soon for the rest of the story.

ETHIOPIA

The human/animal connection is readily apparent on a most basic level in a video called Women Want Change. This video comes from The Brook, an international charity relieving the suffering of horses & donkeys working for some of the world’s poorest communities. (Visit The Brook on Facebook.)

Women can play a powerful role in bringing about change and, through its training, The Brooke is equipping women in many rural communities with the skills, confidence, and knowledge to make improvements for the future wellbeing of their animals and their families. – The Brooke President, HRH the Duchess of Cornwall

Watch the shift toward better animal husbandry as illiterate women are educated about proper working animal nutrition, wound care and problems with overloading. They speak of a time when they didn’t know more than to use traditional –  yet lacking – healing methods as compared with now healthy animals who benefit the survival of their families.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oc-bcSFriMU

AMERICA

And in the good old, literate US of A, horrors exist for entertainment’s sake.

Indiana’s Snapperfest is an event in which contestants demonstrate their prowess by pulling the heads of live turtles far outside of their shells. Undercover footage from August 2011 Snapperfest provided by the World Animal Awareness Society – WA2S.Org  reveals numerous acts of cruelty. As I watched seemingly fun-loving Americans enjoying what was clearly a violation no less offensive than rape by any law of nature I subscribe to, I was nearly sick.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RZYdqMr1znM

According to the Animal Legal Defense Fund:

The DNR has condoned these actions by stating that Snapperfest participants are exempt from anti-cruelty law under an exception for activities including hunting and trapping, because, so they say, the turtles were trapped prior to their mistreatment at Snapperfest.

On January 19th, the national non-profits Animal Legal Defense Fund (ALDF) and Best Friends Animal Society submitted a petition for rulemaking to the Indiana Natural Resources Commission, arguing that the Department of Natural Resources’ (DNR) misinterpretation of state law has allowed for illegal cruelty at Ohio County’s annual “Snapperfest.”

Learn more at ALDF.org.

GET INVOLVED

There is much work to be done everywhere we turn, even in our own back yards. To learn about programs around the US and the world, please visit World Animal Awareness Society – WA2S.Org or the WA2S Facebook page.

In late October, I woke to a landscape glittering and bright in the golden sun of daybreak. It was the first snow of the season, and this particular day was my birthday. Through the window, from the warmth of my bed, I watched a rabbit making tracks as our Newf, Shamus, ate frosted crabapples straight from the tree. The view made me cheerful for the first time in a long while.

Lately, my mood had sagged like a three-sizes-too-big pair of socks around my ankles. My hands (as many of you already know) had been diagnosed with a disfiguring, incurable disease and a second malady was highly suspect. But today, with the whitewashing of the world, all of that was erased.

As the sun edged over the roof-line and warmed the space under our three-tree apple orchard, our friendly porcupine emerged from the forest. This was our third meeting. (For more about that, visit My Unlikely Encounter with a Porcupine and Return of the Porcupine, an Apple Fest.)

The twin fawns sauntered out next. Having been suckled and weened under these very trees, they tiptoed carefully around this new prickly arrival, jumping back at the slightest breath. As hunger overcame their hesitancy, they learned to eat peacefully side-by-side with the porcupine, albeit with a watchful eye.

For an added surprise, our fine flock of turkeys marched up the hill. With more confidence than trepidation, they took note of the situation and strutted straight past the napping marsupial to snap up chunks of birthday apples for themselves.

This magical dance of wildlife comings and goings went on into the early afternoon and, as the snow dripped and dropped from warming limbs, I ventured outside for a close encounter myself. The air was thick with the soft thuds of heavy golden leaves dropping and melted snow falling like a soft and gentle rain. This white noise masked my measured footfalls as I drew near.

Only the porcupine was present then, snoozing with steam streaming off her back in the heat of the sun. She had rocked back onto her rounded behind, elbows resting on her thighs and hands folded below her drowsily bobbing head. At times, the loose snow pack from the tree above would break free and tumble onto her without effect. The world literally rolled off her back that afternoon and, when she woke to eat again, even my presence was no bother.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=21kfBiTY2Qw

And so we spent several hours side by side, making my birthday nothing short of magnificent. This small but bright and healing being brought me tremendous peace and joy. But our relationship didn’t end there…

I hope you’ll come back next week for another piece of the story.

On an overcast Saturday afternoon, a dark, waddling shadow under the apple trees caught my husband Tim’s eye. “Hey. Your friend is back!”

I ran to the window. There she was, face-first in a shiny, red, fallen apple on the lawn, circling around it as she ate, not a care in the world. Unable to hold onto the fruit, she sank her long teeth into the ruby red flesh, re-angling for every bite. When only a bright white core was left, she abandoned it for the next apple.

I raced for the camera but there was no rush. This porcupine wasn’t going anywhere.

From the couch, Shamus, our Newf, glued his eyes on the spiky spectacle dancing through the plethora of Macintosh (his favorite food). Tim sat with him as I filmed, filling the camera with repeat rounds of circular porcupine paths. This went on so long, Shamus laid down at some point, dizzied by the crazy apple spinning, and Tim and I went back to watching television. On occasion, we’d check to see if she was still there, and she always was.

As daylight faded to night, we looked once more. The porcupine’s front paws walked up the apple tree’s trunk as she considered overnighting near the perfect breakfast spot. Almost immediately, she changed direction, hobbling a bit off kilter. Was she drunk? Her belly was certainly chock-full of fermented applesauce.

In a moment of clarity, she opted for the cover of the woods and, as she made her way, I silently thanked her for another visit, this time in the company of my family.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XpjL-NE5j-Y

Then she arrived, hopping and bopping through this symphonic space like a tuba in the strings section. From a distance, she looked like a ground hog, or perhaps a beaver. But, no. She was a beautiful little porcupine.

Climbing the hill toward the house, she took a turn past the dog yard – which sent the dogs into an ear piercing cacophony. When she redirected, I grabbed my camera and followed with a wide birth letting the zoom bridge the gap.

Through the woods, we clamored over rotten tree trunks, rock walls, and through a maze of maple saplings. Leaves crunched under our feet – my footfalls in whole notes, hers adding a layer of syncopation. When she stopped under a wood pile covered in grape leaves, I circled around at a distance. It was my hope to head her off and see her precious face after following the spires of her tail this far.

We both sat quiet and still until that syncopated pace began once more. She was headed straight for me, although her poor eyesight sheilded me from view. I zoomed out as she drew near and hit my widest camera setting with her face still filling my view finder. My blood grew cold. I was really that close.

Taking one slow step back, the snap of a twig alerted her to my presence. We both froze for several minutes, her quills poised. Face to face in those moments, I watched with respectful curiosity. My pulse slowed as my muscles released. She winked and breathed. A sense of peace washed over us both. Then she turned and went on her way. I thanked her for her time and skipped across the sun speckled forest floor toward home.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CJz6ZQ_bauY

This was my first up-close encounter with a wild porcupine, and it wasn’t my last.
For more adventures, be sure to visit my next post…

Leading websites including Wikipedia, Reddit, Mozilla, WordPress, and BoingBoing will go dark tomorrow in protest, and we join them. Whether you have a website or simply like to read them, you’ll want to take part, too.

WHAT’S THE BIG DEAL?

Two laws, hastily proposed in the name of protecting copyright holders, will more likely enable censorship by US corporations and the U.S. government, undermining the First and Fourth Amendments of the United States Constitution.

HOW THIS COULD EFFECT YOU

Consider that YouTube video you just shared of an adoptable dog. If that video infringes on copyright by using a song without permission, under these laws, not only can YouTube be sued for hosting it, you could be sued for reposting it. (Thanks to Pamela Webster for the example.) And there’s more…

WordPress.org makes this among other important points:

In the U.S. our legal system maintains that the burden of proof is on the accuser, and that people are innocent until proven guilty. This tenet seems to be on the chopping block when it comes to the web if these bills pass, as companies could shut down sites based on accusation alone.

If you think this attack on free speech stops at the border, it doesn’t. According to ”Black Wednesday: In Protest of SOPA, Darken the Web” by Michael Geist, law professor and writer for Huffington Post Canada:

IP addresses are allocated by regional organizations, not national ones. The allocation entity located in the U.S. is called the American Registry for Internet Numbers (ARIN). Its territory includes the U.S., Canada, and 20 Caribbean nations.

That’s right. U.S. law will deeply affect international governments and individuals. Non-U.S. citizens and entities must speak up too.

For ways to make your voice heard from all corners of the world, visit Stop American Censorship and join the fight.

The potential for abuse of power through digital networks – upon which we as citizens now depend for nearly everything, including our politics – is one of the most insidious threats to democracy in the Internet age … This is no time for politicians and industry lobbyists in Washington to be devising new Internet censorship mechanisms, adding new opportunities for abuse of corporate and government power over online speech. - Rebecca MacKinnon (New York Times)

Self-hosted WordPress Users: There’s a handy little plugin that will black your site out for the day while embedding the video above and adding a form to write your representative thanks to Chris on Github.

In the flurry of all that commotion, something caught Jed’s attention. The curious cat ascended the couch, planted his face in the window and stared into the darkness. Then he started to pace.

Squirrel? I thought. We hear them trotting across the roof some nights. They use the trellis to reach the closest feeder with solid footing. I welcomed the thought.

Just two days prior, on Thanksgiving, we loaded our five Droll Yankee Executive Feeders (affiliate link) with black oil sunflower seeds. I was eager to give thanks to the surrounding wildlife for their magical presence all year. And they were eager to partake.

It had been unseasonably warm, but for the two  late October snow storms responsible for dropping all the apples. Food was scarce. I heard on the radio that, with bears now in hibernation, it was the perfect time to fill the feeders again.

Watching Jed, I grabbed the video camera hoping for a cute cat/squirrel moment as they passed in the night. I aimed the lens at the window and started to record.

That’s when I saw it, the giant bear paw with 2 inch claws wrapping around the trellis a breath away from my cat’s head. Jed watched with mild curiosity as the bear’s face entered the soft cast of living room light. The camera, still running, had already dropped to my side. My mouth formed a silent “Oh!” as I drew in a long, slow breath that hitched in my lungs.

Lumbering into the darkness, the bear found another feeder in the maple trees just 20 feet from the house. He stumbled on the rock wall and send a boulder rolling down the hill. I moved slowly into the sun porch so as not to alert the dogs. I curled into the chair using the back to prop the camera and to hide myself from view.

The living room light was glancing off the feeder tube as the bear, invisible in the darkness, twisted it left and right. As I filmed reflections in the dark, hoping for a better view, Jackson, our other cat, caught sight of the bear too. He shot like a rocket into the basement studio where Tim was tinkering. I heard Tim’s footfalls coming up. Backing slowly into the dining room, I met him at the top of the stairs.

“Don’t move. There’s a bear out there.” I whispered.

Tim’s eyes widened. I saw him glance at the video camera.

I cursed an unfinished electrical job that scheduled our floodlights for rewiring the following day. “I wish we had more light.”

“We do!” he whispered back. We turned out the living room lamp and he flipped the outside switch. One floodlight had been left intact – right where we needed it.

If you could hear what the camera picked up, we sounded like a couple of squawking (and swearing) chickens, albeit quiet chikens.

“What should we do?” Tim asked.

“Not a f@#%king thing.”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6tiLtX7b57s

It was one of those experiences that exhilarates, amazes and terrifies. We watched in awe as the bear moved with both strength and grace. He looked small as he passed under our window – until he stood up to a full 5 feet, at least. My final words on the subject, as the adrenaline thinned in my veins: “That was awesome, but I’m good if it’s a once-in-a-lifetime encounter.”

After the bear’s 20 minute snack attack, Tim went out with a flashlight and took the feeders into the house. The following day, I emptied them and stored them back in the shed. Hiking up through the woods, I found the only missing feeder about 100 yards away – emptied, the bottom tray cracked off, and bear slobber still inside the rim.

People laugh when I say the bear was fairly gentle, but it’s true. He wasn’t trying to be destructive. It was quite the opposite. That the feeders survived are either a testament to that, or they’re just really solid feeders.

Tim reloaded the black oil sunflower seeds again yesterday. Having woken to 2 degree temperatures this morning with breath that turned to snow, I’m guessing we’re in the clear. One would hope in January. We’ll keep you posted.