Out For Africa

Are we really going to be the generation that lets elephants go extinct?

http://www.outforafrica.com/Out_For_Africa/The_Facts.html

http://www.vanityfair.com/culture/features/2011/08/elephants-201108

http://shop.cadsawan.com/collections/out-for-africa

Every piece of ivory comes from a dead elephant. Ivory is beautiful, but when you consider that this is what had to happen to get it on your coffee table, is it really worth it?

Lotus & The American Pit Bull Foundation

YOU GUYS! This is the best!! Lotus and her awesome foster parents were invited on air with Kiss 95.1 this morning to raise awareness for the American Pit Bull Foundation and the many dogs we rescue! I am so excited Kiss 95.1 brought exposure to not only the abuse of the breed, but to this organization that is truly committed to it.

Lotus is the sweet 5 month old puppy who was saved from a man trying to drown her. Not only did she suffer the confusion and terror of someone attempting to drown her in a frigid pond, but she has been severely and repeatedly abused in her short life. Medical exams revealed she has a recently broken pelvis and smashed leg, as well as past abuse that resulted in a fractured skull from being hit HARD- possibly with a shovel, and broken vertebrae in her spine. Of course with these injuries intentionally given to her, no medical attention was ever sought. Her body attempted to heal these atrocious injuries on its own- albeit incorrectly- and though she can live with the way some of her injuries have healed, her pelvis will require surgery to set it correctly and her front leg will unfortunately likely require amputation.

I love Lotus flowers. They grow in the mud at the bottom of lakes then rise to the top of the water to blossom and reveal their beauty despite where their growth started. When I suggested we name her Lotus, it was in a pretty literal sense- I mean she was essentially saved from the bottom of a pond. But once you experience the resilience, forgiveness, optimism, and love she inexplicably possesses after what seems like repeated attempts to kill her, there's no denying that naming her Lotus was just as much a testament to her triumphant spirit as it was literal. (Check out her cuteness in this in-studio video: http://youtu.be/nJjys2jrkoU)

Please consider donating to the APBF to not only help with the costly surgical procedures and rehabilitation Lotus will require, but to also assist with the continued support provided to the other dogs in APBF. I know everyone's financial situation is different and money is tight for a lot of people, but if 100 people see this and donate just $10, that's already $1000 from this post alone. Skip your Dunkin run two days, put that pedicure off for a week, take the change in your car to CoinStar- any little bit helps and is sincerely appreciated.

Posted below are a few links about Lotus, an upcoming fundraiser, the APBF, and ways you can help:

Lotus:
Kiss 95.1: http://kiss951.cbslocal.com/2013/03/29/drex-maney-bringing-lotus-from-abused-pit-to-happy-pup/
Charlotte Observer: http://www.charlotteobserver.com/2013/03/25/3937523/police-search-for-man-who-threw.html

APBF: http://www.americanpitbullfoundation.com/ The American Pit Bull Foundation is an amazing organization that I am proud to be involved with. APBF's purpose is to promote responsible breed ownership through providing: owner and public education, positive alternatives to pit fighting, programs to endorse and recognize responsible breed ownership, providing medical and financial assistance for dogs with responsible owners, and aiding in adoption of Pit Bulls to responsible individuals and families. Based on the incredible network of volunteers, fosters, donors, and other advocates, APBF provides medical attention, monthly flea and heart worm preventatives, food, training, and other necessities to each dog while they are in foster homes with the organization. On the website you can find links to donate, view our Adopt-a-Bulls, contact information for becoming a foster home* or volunteer, the adoption procedures and application, as well as other information about the breed and organization. (*Foster homes are always needed. Since the APBF doesn't yet have a shelter, we can only rescue as many dogs as we have foster homes available for.)

Fund Raiser: Pawbrokers Party to Support Lotus and Other Pitties with Medical Needs Pawbrokers is hosting a fundraiser at The Comedy Zone in the Music Factory Wednesday, April 3 from 5:00-9:00 where you can purchase jewelry and drinks, with a portion of the proceeds going to APBF to help with the cost of Lotus's surgeries and support the other dogs in our care. Of course outright donations can also be made either at the event or on the ABPF website. Donations of pet food will also be accepted for donation to the Humane Society of York County. More information can be found here: https://www.facebook.com/events/446421495433390/

Authorities are still searching for the depraved individual who abused and attempted to drown her. He is described as a skinny black male between 6' 2"-6' 5", weighing no more than 170 pounds. He has thin dreadlocks and was wearing a black hat at the time. He had no facial hair. The suspect was driving a light-colored/sky blue, four-door BMW or Mercedes from the mid-90's with no plates but a paper dealership tag with a red circular emblem in the center. This happened near Nevin Rd in the Mallard Creek/77 area of Northeast Charlotte. Please contact the Charlotte-Mecklenburg Police Department's Crime Stoppers at 704-334-1600 if you have any information that can assist in the investigation. You don't even have to give your name.

Please feel free to share this with as many people as you would like. The more exposure, the better!

Children Need Love Too

I feel compelled to share this with everyone in hopes that one person will do something nice for someone else today:

I work in a low-income, high-crime area of Charlotte. I have my concealed carry permit, but no gun (soon to be changing) and pepper spray. By training, I constantly scan people with my eyes to see if they're carrying a weapon, or where they could be concealing one. And if I get out of my car to go in anywhere in the area around my work, I carry in my pepper spray. Yesterday, I stopped in a convenience store on my way back from lunch and witnessed a little girl- no older than maybe eight- two people ahead of me in line being barraged by the man she was with about "how much f**king money she costs him...what a selfish little b**ch she is" and how lucky she was they were in public because he was going to "teach her about the value of sh*t when they got home."

May I repeat that a grown man, whoever he was to her, loudly called an elementary-aged child a "selfish little b**ch" then threatened her in the crowded line at a convenience store?! To be clear, I am pro-spanking as discipline and I got many a "I'm gonna count to three before I embarrass you in this grocery store/restaurant/birthday party/school/church function, etc." as a child and I knew I’d better straighten up quick or my bottom was going to sting when we got home. But you could tell by the tone in his voice and the contempt he had in his eyes that this wasn't just going to be a spanking, and it wasn't for the purpose of discipline. To make matters worse, not one of the seven or eight other adults standing in the store or behind the counter even batted an eye- like this was just business as usual! I was appalled that not one person in that store was going to stand up for this little girl, or at least pretend to look uncomfortable!

While the man was fumbling with the contents of his pockets that he’d emptied onto the counter, I caught the little girl’s eyes. In an attempt to keep her from the tears she was on the verge of, I smiled, squatted down to her level, asked her how she was and (without thinking) said, “it’s okay honey, sometimes adults get mad and say things they don’t mean but…” The belligerent man cut me off, grabbed her by the shoulder and turned her around to face the counter, telling her not to listen to people who need to mind their own business. This was completely unnecessary since she was too afraid to even look up from the ground or speak to me once I tried to engage her.

I stood up, turned my attention to the "man" who was starting to put his belongings back in his pockets and in the sweetest, most polite, non-confrontational voice I could muster said, "Sir, there's no reason to talk to a pretty little girl that way, is there? Besides, you’re in public and there are other children and women around who could be offended by your loud cursing." Everyone in the store went silent. Obviously shocked to be challenged, he turned his whole body to face me and said (so angrily that he was spitting, and the patrons standing between us stepped back- thanks guys) that I should keep my "white, b**ch mouth closed if I knew what was good for me." He was so close to me I could have reached my arm out and put my hand almost completely flat against his chest. Again, not one person witnessing this even flinched. Despite how terrified I was, I put on the most resolute face I could and in the biggest white girl move ever held the pepper spray- that I was clutching from the moment I walked in the door- in between my face and his. Almost predictably, he laughed...laughed! He goes from berating this poor child to getting in my face, cursing me, and doubting my intention of protecting myself. Um, no, momma don't play that.

[This part of the story won't go down in history as one of the classier times in my life, and I refer to this type of explosion of raw, impassioned fury as "the Robeson County coming out of me," but I blanked. It rarely happens but when it does, I think I am invincible for some reason, only to realize later that is not the case...not the case at all. I'm working on it.]

I took a step half-step toward him, closing the distance between us, and with every drop of the sweet, polite, Southernness gone from my voice, I looked over the pepper spray and into his eyes and said something to the effect of, "You can take yourself a step back or get to experience what it feels like to have an entire can of mace emptied on your punk ass in front of that little girl you've been disrespecting. You might feel like a tough guy because you can intimidate someone who hasn't even taken the EOG's, but you don't scare me." I was scared. My life potentially depended on how he reacted to the ultimatum I’d just spewed at him. Time. Stopped. The Robeson County in me was gone and I was back to being essentially unarmed, in a convenience store I know is in one of the most dangerous parts of the city, threatening a man who clearly has a propensity for violence, while surrounded by a group of people who up until this point had shown nothing but apathy. I’ve never even had to pull my pepper spray on anyone before. What the hell was I thinking?

He took a step back and tried to provoke me into following through on my threat with the words "try me." The only thing that could leave my lips was, “you stepped back didn’t you?” Being the crime-heavy place it is, law enforcement is ever-present. By sheer destiny, I saw a police car pull into the parking lot and the man followed my eyes with his. He grabbed the rest of his things, the little girl by the wrist, and drug her behind him out the door. I suddenly realized that he was surely going to take all of his anger towards me out on her. I couldn’t let them just walk away knowing that I had likely single-handedly put that little girl in even more danger by trying to help, so I went out the door after them/for the police and was met at the door by the officer. He asked me if everything was okay and I pointed to the man and said- through the tears that were welling in my own eyes, “you may need to have a discussion with that man about how he treats women and children.” The officer stopped the man and the little girl as another police car pulled into the parking lot. The new officer and his partner separated the man and child while I explained what had transpired.

After gathering information and statements from the spineless bunch inside, the officer informed me that this whole hateful outburst began when the girl put a snack on the counter that his EBT card wouldn’t cover. I declined the officer’s offer to file a report, but repeatedly begged him not to let the girl leave with him. I was told that I could leave since I didn’t want to file a report, but that they would continue to interview the little girl and if they found evidence of abuse, she wouldn’t be released to him until Child Protective Services reviewed the case. Anxious for the girl, I got in my car and left.

I couldn’t comprehend that THAT was what all of this was over. HIS inability to find enough change to cover the $1.29 difference was what made him react in such a volatile manner. I would have happily covered the difference for him had I known that would have been all it took to protect this girl for at least a few minutes. I guess, subconsciously, it was why I instinctively said something without thinking about the potential consequences. In no way did I want to go toe to toe with this angry man, but better me than a little girl who hasn't even hit puberty yet. Surely people aren't so indifferent that one of the men- or even women- in the store would have stepped in had things gotten physical, right? Maybe I was the first person who ever told him that speaking to a child that way is inexcusable and he’ll work on it. Maybe I'm the first person any of those people had ever seen stand up for a stranger and it showed them that it's okay for people to care about other people even if they don't know them. Maybe she'll remember this in ten years when a boy tries to put her down and she'll know that she is completely justified in telling him to go screw himself, that she deserves better. Maybe he beat the hell out of her when they got home and it was my fault. I hope it wasn't the latter and I'll probably lose sleep worrying about that girl, but I want to believe that something good came from what I did.

I don't know where the disconnect is with people, but children are a product of their environment. No wonder kids use language that is too mature for their age and grow up to be disrespectful, angry, self-harming, irresponsible, violent people, or think they are undeserving of success or love or respect. If someone they see as important treats them like trash when they’re most impressionable, they’re going to believe they’re trash. They think they're astronauts, bus drivers, princesses, rock stars, vets, or whatever; but as a society we have to remember that there's more to children than vivid imaginations. They're sensitive, fragile sponges who see and hear more than we give them credit for, and they have feelings that are easily hurt. They need people in their lives to look up to, people who speak to them like they're important, who care about their betterment and making them feel special and loved. This little girl looked broken and defeated. No one should be made to feel broken or defeated; not an eight year old, not you, not me, not anyone you care about, not even a stranger. I'm far from perfect and I say ugly things more often than I'd like to admit, but I think if every person on this planet woke up every morning and decided to live their life by The Golden Rule, the world would be a lot nicer place to be.

Mom, thank you for raising me to be a person who understands right from wrong, for instilling in me the courage to be willing to speak for those who can't speak for themselves, and for never making me feel broken. And most importantly, everything is fine so DON’T FREAK OUT.

Noah's Puzzle is Complete

Several months ago Kristin Timmerman from Project: Babies shared a link about a family adopting a little girl named Rose.  The idea was simple, and quite creative.  The family needed $5,000 more dollars in their adoption fund, so they bought a 1,000 piece puzzle and put a price tag of $5 on each piece.  Giving up two minutes and $5 earned you a spot on a piece of the puzzle, and in this little girl and new family's life. 

Through a series of events, the family has actually ended up adopting a little boy named Noah.  Though this wasn't the original plan, the puzzle is complete and I know that my name is on the back of it somewhere.  I know that I helped a family bring home a part of their heart.  I know that I helped a child find a home full of love, and helped bring him to a life of happiness.

I also bought a piece in memory of Matt.  He loved children and he loved the idea of starting a family of his own.  I hope to be able to support many families in his memory- even though it unfortunately isn't an option for him, others can have a family in his name.  And his love will be intertwined with every.single.one.

I mean really. How amazing is that? 1,000 names!

Gas Chambers: Demand Change

Let me preface this by saying it brings me no joy to read/view/post/have to think about the idea of animals being euthanized- especially in a gas chamber (even the words have such a cruel connotation), but this is an unfortunate reality that I hope to help change...

"Yes, I Gas Dogs and Cats for a Living. I'm an Animal Control officer in a very small town in central North Carolina. I'm in my mid thirties, and have been working for the town in different positions since high school. There is not much work here, and working for the county provides good pay and benefits for a person like me without a higher education. I'm the person you all write about how horrible I am. I'm the one that gasses the dogs and cats and makes them suffer. I'm the one that pulls their dead corpses out smelling of Carbon Monoxide and throws them into green plastic bags. But I'm also the one that hates my job and hates what I have to do.

First off, all you people out there that judge me, don't. God is judging me, and I know I'm going to Hell. Yes, I'm going to hell. I wont lie, it's despicable, cold, cruel and I feel like a serial killer. I'm not all to blame, if the law would mandate spay and neuter, lots of these dogs and cats wouldn't be here for me to gas. I'm the devil, I know it, but I want you people to see that there is another side to me the devil Gas Chamber man.

The shelter usually gasses on Friday morning. Friday's are the day that most people look forward to, this is the day that I hate, and wish that time will stand still on Thursday night. Thursday night, late, after nobody's around, my friend and I go through a fast food line, and buy 50 dollars worth of cheeseburgers and fries, and chicken. I'm not allowed to feed the dogs on Thursday, for I'm told that they will make a mess in the gas chamber, and why waste the food.

So, Thursday night, with the lights still closed, I go into the saddest room that anyone can every imagine, and let all the doomed dogs out out their cages. I have never been bit, and in all my years doing this, the dogs have never fought over the food. My buddy and I, open each wrapper of cheeseburger and chicken sandwich, and feed them to the skinny, starving dogs.

They swallow the food so fast, that I don't believe they even taste it. There tails are wagging, and some don't even go for the food, they roll on their backs wanting a scratch on their bellys. They start running, jumping and kissing me and my buddy. They go back to their food, and come back to us. All their eyes are on us with such trust and hope, and their tails wag so fast, that I have come out with black and blues on my thighs.. They devour the food, then it's time for them to devour some love and peace. My buddy and I sit down on the dirty, pee stained concrete floor, and we let the dogs jump on us. They lick us, they put their butts in the air to play, and they play with each other. Some lick each other, but most are glued on me and my buddy.

I look into the eyes of each dog. I give each dog a name.

They will not die without a name.

I give each dog 5 minutes of unconditional love and touch.

I talk to them, and tell them that I'm so sorry that tomorrow they will die a gruesome, long, torturous death at the hands of me in the gas chamber.

Some tilt their heads to try to understand.

I tell them, that they will be in a better place, and I beg them not to hate me.

I tell them that I know I'm going to hell, but they will all be playing with all the dogs and cats in heaven.

After about 30 minutes, I take each dog individually, into their feces filled concrete jail cell, and pet them and scratch them under their chins. Some give me their paw, and I just want to die. I just want to die. I close the jail cell on each dog, and ask them to forgive me. As my buddy and I are walking out, we watch as every dog is smiling at us and them don't even move their heads. They will sleep, with a full belly, and a false sense of security.

As we walk out of the doomed dog room, my buddy and I go to the cat room.

We take our box, and put the very friendly kittens and pregnant cats in our box.

The shelter doesn't keep tabs on the cats, like they do the dogs.

As I hand pick which cats are going to make it out, I feel like I'm playing God, deciding whose going to live and die.

We take the cats into my truck, and put them on blankets in the back.

Usually, as soon as we start to drive away, there are purring cats sitting on our necks or rubbing against us.

My buddy and I take our one way two hour trip to a county that is very

wealthy and they use injection to kill animals.

We go to exclusive neighborhoods, and let one or two cats out at a time.

They don't want to run, they want to stay with us. We shoo them away, which makes me feel sad.

I tell them that these rich people will adopt them, and if worse comes to worse and they do get put down, they will be put down with a painless needle being cradled by a loving veterinarian. After the last cat is free, we drive back to our town.

It's about 5 in the morning now, about two hours until I have to gas my best friends.

I go home, take a shower, take my 4 anti-anxiety pills and drive to work.. I don't eat, I can't eat. It's now time, to put these animals in the gas chamber. I put my ear plugs in, and when I go to the collect the dogs, the dogs are so excited to see me, that they jump up to kiss me and think they are going to play.

I put them in the rolling cage and take them to the gas chamber. They know. They just know. They can smell the death.. They can smell the fear. They start whimpering, the second I put them in the box. The boss tells me to squeeze in as many as I can to save on gas. He watches. He knows I hate him, he knows I hate my job. I do as I'm told. He watches until all the dogs, and cats (thrown in together) are fighting and screaming. The sounds is very muffled to me because of my ear plugs. He walks out, I turn the gas on, and walk out.

I walk out as fast as I can. I walk into the bathroom, and I take a pin and draw blood from my hand. Why? The pain and blood takes my brain off of what I just did.

In 40 minutes, I have to go back and unload the dead animals. I pray that none survived, which happens when I overstuff the chamber. I pull them out with thick gloves, and the smell of carbon monoxide makes me sick. So does the vomit and blood, and all the bowel movements. I pull them out, put them in plastic bags.

They are in heaven now, I tell myself. I then start cleaning up the mess, the mess, that YOU PEOPLE are creating by not spay or neutering your animals. The mess that YOU PEOPLE are creating by not demanding that a vet come in and do this humanely. You ARE THE TAXPAYERS, DEMAND that this practice STOP!

So, don't call me the monster, the devil, the gasser, call the politicians, the shelter directors, and the county people the devil. Heck, call the governor, tell him to make it stop.
As usual, I will take sleeping pills tonight to drown out the screams I heard in the past, before I discovered the ear plugs. I will jump and twitch in my sleep, and I believe I'm starting to hallucinate.

This is my life. Don't judge me. Believe me, I judge myself enough."

Anonymous in North Carolina"

 
This is one of those sad letters written by an "anonymous worker."  I put in quotes because who's to say whether it's from an anonymous worker or an anonymous activist that just wants to be heard.  What I can say is that regardless of who wrote it, this is still happening...in a civilized country.  We're the people who are responsible for this.  Oh no, not you?  Don't you think our tax dollars are used to fund these inhumane, torturous deaths?  We have to change this.  We have to stand up against this cruel act.  We have to contact our legislatures and governors and policy makers and demand our tax money be put to better use.  We have to demand there be punishment for people who habitually surrender animals, who don't spay and neuter, who abandon their animals, or turn them loose when they don't want them anymore.  We have to insist that North Carolina nor America is going to be a place where animals are thrown into a gas chamber to die slowly, in pain, scared, and confused.  Make a difference.

CALLING ALL HUMANS

To anyone who doesn't think adoption, spaying/neutering, fostering, volunteering, donating, etc. is important, have a look at this album.

Yes, it's sad- devastating even- to see that all these innocent animals were euthanized. What's possibly even sadder is that this is only in ONE small county (Gaston), and that it is only since the beginning of 2012. It's March 23. That's 188 animals in only 82 days. At the current rate, that means nearly 900 animals will be PTS in this shelter alone this year. If that is the average for every county in NC (which it won't be-some higher, some lower), 90,000 animals will be put to sleep in North Carolina in 2012. A lot of these animals were unfortunately only given a short amount of time in the shelter before being PTS because of the the sheer volume of animals being picked up and surrendered everyday; there just isn't enough space.

This is not these animals' fault; this is 100% in the hands of humans. And I'm not talking about the workers and volunteers working tirelessly and exhausting every effort (in Gaston County and across the nation); those people are angels. It is unfortunate that those are the people- who love and advocate for these animals- who end up having to pick up the pieces and euthanize them when they should've had a chance. That we are allowing this to happen as a civilized nation is atrocious and we should all be ashamed. Wake up people. This can be prevented.

Reputable breeders DO NOT sell their animals at pet stores. Dogs from pet stores are the product of puppy mills. Period. These dogs are kept in small crates, bred repeatedly, and are usually not even familiar with human interaction or the feeling of grass under their little paws. Puppy mills not only create a cruel and disgusting life for dogs, but there is so much inbreeding to create as many litters (profit) as possible that a majority of the puppies are doomed from an early age to have many health issues throughout their lives, compounded with a short life span.

ADOPT. SPAY/NEUTER. DONATE. VOLUNTEER.

Do your part to help humanity. This extends to local, national, foreign, animal, human, education, veteran, active soldier, elderly, disease, Red Cross, natural disaster relief, and everything between.

If everyone did something, just one thing per person- it would seem a lot more like humanity and a lot less like all humans are selfish, negligent, and uncaring.