New Orleans' Big Post-Katrina Pet Adoption Marathon

Today just a few blocks down the street from my store, Best Friends Animal Sanctuary, currently operating in the New Orleans area out of an abandoned amusement company named Celebration Station, hosted a massive pet adoption day. Not only were they hoping to place their 100 or so Katrina dogs and 100 or so Katrina cats, but several local animal welfare agencies were displaying and placing their available animals as well. My guess is that at least 500 animals were offered there today.

At our store we had heard about the animals at Celebration Station--how they were animals rescued following Katrina and its aftermath--and how the public was invited to look for their lost animals there. We also understood that adoptable animals were being kept there at Celebration Station. Two or three weeks ago I visited the facility so I could refer people appropriately.

Celebration Station is an odd piece of property located roughly at the intersection of Interstate 10 and Veterans Memorial Boulevard, the main commercial street in Metairie (New Orleans' largely intact suburb to the west.) It once housed a batting cage, bumper cars, miniature golf course and a loud building full of video games. Now its parking lots are full of chain-link kennels and trailers. To enter the gated property one must present ID to the burly security guards, who then radio one's arrival to the staff in the main building. I was given a tour of the indoor facilities and was favorably impressed with what I saw. At that time, Best Friends was caring for roughly 120 dogs and puppies and the same number of cats and kittens.

The main building housed all the felines, the puppies, the paperwork, and those animal care volunteers from out of state who sleep upstairs. The large main room buzzed like that of a political campaign office. Potential adopters or those seeking their own lost pets are carefully screened before they are even permitted to see any of the animals. Because the organization need not support its activities primarily via adoption fees, they are in the admirable situation of being able to allow adoptions by otherwise worthy potential adopters who could not afford the $250 adoption fees that my own Golden Retriever rescue was forced to exact, back when we were in operation. Not only is the adoption fee de-emphasized, but each adopter receives a gift bag that includes a bowl, a toy or two (many of them PetWorld's house brands), a food sample, a brush, and coupons.

The animals themselves run an interesting gauntlet before they are placed in a new home. First a rescued animal receives any necessary emergency care; then, based upon the location where it was found it may be returned to one of the local parish shelters to be held for the number of days prescribed by pre-Katrina parish law. If it is not claimed by its original family, it returns to Best Friends. All animals are spayed and neutered. In about a week, their photos and descriptions are posted online to Petfinder.com and entered into the database used to match up parents separated from their pets. Some animals were shipped en masse to various well-equipped humane organizations across the country. Another group of dogs was placed in a women's prison in Phoenix, Arizona as part of a program to train the inmates in humane care. Managing such an enormous operation is certainly a daunting task, and deciding where the Katrina pets are sent must be agonizing.

Not only would it be a logistical nightmare, but the human emotions at play make this a volatile arena. Some locally established rescuers were no doubt peeved when Best Friends and other national forces disrupted their own referral loops and received exclusive permission to perform some rescue activities within the various parishes. Turf wars are always common within rescue, where so many involved in "saving the innocent animals" suffer from grandiosity and the certainty that only they know how to care for and place animals properly. Katrina added chronic and intense daily living stresses, plus a degree of regional-cultural bias, as "outsiders" came to help "us."

Even worse, some Katrina evacuees left their animals at home or at large for various reasons, either during or after evacuation; many feel compelled to justify to the outside interviewer how hard they tried to keep their pets and why they failed. More articulate evacuees are forgiven, but others may not be. I hear too many of these stories at my job as it is. Despite the satisfactions that must accrue from the amazing work the Best Friends people have done, I could not be in the least bit tempted to enter such a turbulent rescue fray.

At any rate, today Best Friends, several parish shelters, and other local animal rescue groups such as the Southern Animal Foundation conducted their adoption day, and throughout the day, happy and hopeful adopters came by the store--their new pets in tow--to buy food, beds, collars, and crates. Absent from Celebration Station, but present with us at PetWorld, as they are every Saturday, were the folks from the St. Charles Humane Society. They brought only four dogs today, but were also there to replenish and talk up the group of cats who live on PetWorld premises in the Adoption Center.

A Golden Retriever mix female caught my eye. Cinnamon is small for a Golden, about 50 lbs. Her face is pointed like those of most rescue Goldens. She had a subtle white area on her chest. Most striking was the decided curl in her coat. And her eyes.

Her eyes looked right into me. Only once before have I seen eyes like these on a dog: they belonged to Goldie, a Sheltie/Golden mix who adopted my family the day after my heart dog Lee was euthanized with stomach cancer. Goldie looked at me at the shelter that day and I could not look away. Today Cinnamon gave me that same look, and I brought her home with me. Beautiful little Cinnamon is four years old, spayed, quiet and very affectionate.

In the final photo, the contrast between standing, straight-haired Butterball in the background and shorter, curlier Cinnamon is striking.