Threading Through The Red Sea part 4: An Open Letter from A Hoarder

Last February, there was a cat sanctuary named Caboodle Ranch, home to a couple of hundred (some say a thousand) of cats. The sanctuary was raided after an "undercover" videotaping of sick cats in deplorable condition by none other than PeTA. ASPCA is said to be involved in the raid.

The raid raise global controversy unlike any other, and in the middle of the cloudy water, a fellow crafter for animal wrote a blog she said is "inspired" by the Caboodle Ranch case.

She said blatantly in her blog post that, despite has nothing to do with Caboodle Ranch, or PeTA, or ASPCA, and that she even didn't know what exactly going on, she still think that the owner of Caboodle Ranch had passed the thin line between rescuing and hoarding, and that according to herself, the raid somewhat dwindled the public trust on rescuers. Moreover, she said that as a rescuer herself, much more further, she said that she feel betrayed and hurt by what Caboodle Ranch had done.

By the way, she also said along the line of, if we rescuer has common sense, we'd know our limit, and once we reach our limit, stop taking in more animals. 

Deep in my heart, I know where she was going, and what she was trying to do with the post. A short while prior to that post, we all have a newsletter from a craft selling portal about the importance of social networking to our sales, and blogging, aside from the infamous Facebook and Twitter, is one of the best sales booster. And if you search the internet how to begin blogging, you will find that most advices say that you should start by hitting the heating topic, and go from there.

Combined by a sudden "boost" of enthusiasm (if I can't say rather aggressive ambitiousness) that she had never shown before (e.g: by jumping into any volunteer vacancy in our crafter group) I think I got the big idea. She is trying to boost sales, and she was trying to ride the heat of Caboodle Ranch case. But I also think that, with all due respect, writing about heated topic without sound knowledge of the fact is killing herself, especially because here, in the animal welfare war, there are no lukewarm party, much less neutral one. Unless you are ready to swallow the flame, you'd better play it safe. Besides, playing sides and angered the other is definitely not going to boost any sales.

As a friend I was trying to warn her that it's not good to judge without knowing all the fact, but she told me that she read enough from all the comments in Facebooks and websites (one of them are PeTA's) and that gave her enough basics to write.

Since she didn't seem to bother seeing what I was really trying to say at the bottom line, and the hint of "whatever you say folks, keep it for yourself, I am moving on" I just stay quiet instead of wasting my time by trying to go further.

Four days later, I got a notification that a reader (who are a complete stranger) put on a comment on her blog. She got her first flame.

Needless to say, she brush that off too, and after the same "I read enough" rebuttal, that was met with an even fiercer reply, she told her reader "I am so done with this topic, have a good day!"

Yaay.... (in an undertone)

Unfortunately, although I remained quiet during the short 'flaming' session, what she wrote in her blog about "stop taking in another animal when we reach our limit" disturbed me; because honestly, I don't think it's all that's easy, even in a sovereign countries like USA or UK or even Switzerland (that as the strictest animal welfare law in the world) and much more in Indonesia, that has no animal welfare law.

I mean, if you were strolling on a park one day and found a skin-and-bone cat, so hungry that he meows weakly to anyone that passed, even if he's been kicked around as result, and your house is full, would you walk away? If you walked your way to the office and found a tiny kitten that has been dumped on the road, and your house is overcrowded, would you turn your head the other way? If you see a cat with very ugly sinus that can't even walk properly, would you close your eyes and just pass? If you just, by any chance, sit around and saw someone coming to you with a box of teeny weeny baby cats and dump them on you, and your house is full, would you just stand up and show your "attitude" on them? "Hey mister, my house is full, go find somewhere else, I am so done with cats, have a nice day!"?

This morning, as I cycle to the office, I saw a 6 months old cat, skin and bone and literally sun-dried (yeah, like chappy, flaky paint under scorching sun), so weak that she crinkled like raisin and can only lay by the road, waiting for his heart to stop.

So?

Before we get to the answer to that, here is a copy and paste of how my associate define hoarder:

"I consider myself a No Kill rescuer. [...] The difference between someone like myself (for instance) and a hoarder is that the hoarder does not know his or her limits or chooses to ignore them.  This individual will become hyper-focused on the animals and will withdraw, rather than engage with anyone, let alone the rescue community.  The person will become isolated and may not let anyone onto their property.  A major clue to someone who may be a hoarder posing as a rescue is that they will not make efforts to--or even be open to--rehome animals.  That person is not a rescue.  That person is a hoarder."

We all know that my house is full, hence, I reached my limits. And there's this cat on the road. So, I walked away? Sorry little cat, my house is full, and you are lying on the wrong road. Try another house....

But I picked that cat up, get back home, and put him on a cool compress, give him electrolyte, and offer him a small plate of soft food, and of course, late for work.

This is Indonesia. People are lynched because they are different, at least verbally abused for the rest of their life, and isolation is only small part of how people here treated those who are different, in any part. So, I am isolated because while people here treat animals like "thing" (of no value) I choose to treat animals like "one" (with all values attached) and I am not ashamed to show it.

But looking at the definition above, now I am a hoarder too?

Then come here and flame me. Come here and spat on me, call me a rescuers' traitor, a disgusting piece of thing, bad mouth on me as you like, then, go inside my over crowded house, and meet the Whiskers' Syndicate.

I have all the misfits in place: A cat with hernia (Renoir, he is now healed), a castaway Persian (Boo), a cat with twisted leg (Jan), another cat with no teeth whatsoever (Tortie), a cat that once walk by dragging his lower limb (Rexie II, he is now healed), a cat that's so traumatic she will push herself under the pillow when she sees the stranger (Harley), a victim of vet malpractice (Sports), a cat that only meows once a year (Bobtail), or a black cat that's blind (Braille), then meet Friskies, Tiger Lily, Blossom, Mini...

But hey, like many other who peeked in and surprised, I promise I won't say anything when you mimic them saying "It's not what I think it would be! They are healthy, clean, fat...."

Labeling people is as easy as categorizing fruits. Judging them from your personal perspective is as simple as pointing fingers, but I wish this fellow crafter, and to whom it may concern, understand that, deciding on something by regards of an individual definition is like looking onto the whole earth from a tiny speck of dew in the twilight.

And if you have that much sparks in your soul that you can define someone in such "robust" way, remember that rescuers are human beings like you, they just live in another bucket, one that might not be as sparkling as your metropolitan city, or as large as your grand house, nor as stern as your judging definition. Somewhere out there in Rwanda, someone is abandoning their family and become isolated because she is trying to save Gorillas from being victim of two extremist political parties at war. Somewhere out there Vietnam a group of young men and women are trying to help bears from being tortured to death for their bile and by that risking their lives. Somewhere out there in the jungles of India, fresh graduates abandons their bright future and roam through the forest  trying to save the tigers. Somewhere in the open sea, a boat-full of people are abandoning their land to guard the whales. Somewhere out there in Iceland or Japan, someone is filming like crazy to reach out on behalf of the dolphins. Somewhere in the most remote part of Borneo, strangers are trying to save the Lorises and orangutans from being poached to extinction in the name of Palm Oil. Somewhere here, in Bandung, a capital breeder city of Indonesia, a small pair of hand is trying to at least ease the lives of 400 thousand stray cats that otherwise will never know what it means to be alive. (Don't eyeball on that 400 thousand. That's statistical data obtained on February 2010).

We are lonely, we are isolated, alone, oppressed, in fear and worry. We are in permanent financial recession, we are far from our families and the luxury of your safe, green-grassed yard. We are tired, but we can't just stop and go on a vacation. Our house, or facilities, are full, but unfortunately we do not share your cold heart to just walk away and stop rescuing just because our facilities are full. We have all of your indication of a hoarder. We, human beings just like you, are longing for affection and understanding, but we cast our own need away because there are these animals who need those compassion and understanding more than we do, and while we still can write websites, blogs, take photos and reach out to the world, the animals that represent our cause might not have any chance even for one second.

We will be happy for you if you get your happiness on that boost of sales, or by labeling us, but before you shut us down and tell us to have a nice day, let us say that our happiness does not come from an empty house. Our happiness comes from being able to save lives, even if it is only one more.

Threading Through The Red Sea Part 2: The Fantastic Four

Easter in pagan perspective has been associated with spring: a month full of heavenly showers that brings earth back to life from its deep sleep in winter.

In Indonesia, a tropical country right on top of equator, Easter will mark the shift from rainy season (October - March) that pours rain every day, to dry season (April - September) that never rains.

Bandung, however, is a little bit different.

Geographically speaking, Bandung is located in an ancient crater that was once a Jurassic lake between three giant volcanoes. This will mean water does not evaporate that fast, and it makes this town damp all day long. For people who lived in 4 season countries, Bandung will be in eternal spring.

Demographically speaking, Bandung is a small town, with lower level of education, slower economic growth, and as result, prehistoric attitude. Bandung's state of mentality is like USA or Europe at the start of 20th century. If that doesn't seems too far behind, we are now in the first quarter of the 21st.

But what is heaven for humans, is hell for the animals. The endless showers, the dampness, the constant cold is a killer combination for cats, especially those who doesn't have a roof to hide from the rain, ones who can't find a warm attic to run from the cold temperature, and for all that roam on the merciless streets in the breeder capital of Indonesia, where approximately one thousand of unwanted animals were dumped in landfills and abandoned in traditional markets, cemeteries, and the streets to fend off for themselves.

May I remind everyone once more that Indonesia doesn't have animal welfare law?

Enough for the academic lecture, because what I saw year after year as a rescue in Bandung is no more than feral (automatic) genocide. Bandung is in perpetual kitty season, and every month of two my house will be flooded with sick and hopeless kittens, or weak and helpless seniors.

Due to limited space that I have (again) I have to choose which one is coming with me, and which one has to live communally in abandoned lots or cemeteries, with rations of food that I regularly distribute. Whiskers' Syndicate does not have volunteers, we do not have people, much less communities like those boasted by the "sanctuary" or "shelter" or "rescue" organization over the internet in USA or Europe, or wherever. Whiskers' Syndicate is a tiny, rented studio filled with hopeless cats (and occasionally dogs - horses goes somewhere else) undergoing their green mile while they are queuing to climb the rainbow bridge. I am the only man power behind the "rescue" though for long, I consider myself a competitor of the animals' undertaker who tries to give them comfortable last mile in life.

One of the most common undertaker that I encounter is called Feline Calicivirus, which is:

virus of the family Caliciviridae that causes disease in cats. It is one of the two important viral causes of respiratory infection in cats, the other being feline herpesvirus. can cause a rapid epidemic, with a mortality rate of up to 67%. Initial symptoms include discharge from the eyes and nose, ulceration in the mouth, anorexia, and lethargy, and occur in the first one to five days. Later symptoms include fever, edema of the limbs and face, jaundice, and multiple organ dysfunction syndrome.
Diagnosis of FCV is difficult without specific tests, because the symptoms are similar to other feline respiratory diseases.

It has a beautiful nickname too around vets: Calici. It sounds more like the name of a pretty woman than a microscopic grim reaper don't you think?

Let me translate to English: cats infected with Calici will not develop severesymptoms. It will start with sneezing and watery eyes. They they will grow ulcers on their tongue, which grows in number and the sneezing will block their ability to smell food. When this happened, the cat will lose their ability to eat (naturally because it is painful to chew or swallow). Since they aren't eating, they got dehydrated, and finally, meeting death in a slow process in which their body will convulse for hours, depending on their physical strength, as they scream in pain due to the endless spasms until their last breaths.

Kittens without adequate motherly nutrition is better in this case, because death come quicker, and therefore, less painful.

Calici has a very simple body structure, so they are easy to duplicate. It can disperse through air, water, even simple touch, which is why it is highly epidemic in cats, because they groom each other, the sniff each other, and often share food and water bowls.

This is our version.

Easter week this year started with Sue and Tykes, whose stories I shared in another post. Tykes had moved on sooner, but Sue lived on for another month when I brought Spring home.

I met Spring near a monumental park, five minutes bike ride from my rent. She was sitting helplessly by a deep gutter under torrential rain, because some maniac put mud on her eyes and cut all of her whiskers.  I think I don't have to explain why people done that.  Some do it to pass their already useless time, and because it's "cute" (yeah? in which part?).

As soon as I dried Spring up and lay her down in a warm pillow at home, I set out to buy some medicine, and on my way home, was almost made stumbled when a rabbit jumped across the street under the heavy rain.

Or I thought it was a rabbit. The white fluff shiver under some neighbor's doorstep and I don't have a heart to just pass, because whomever rabbit it is, it must be cold and scared. So I pull aside and bent down, and met Tutti Cutie in the eye.

Now scroll the screen back up, and look at those round, hopeless eyes, and you will see why I can't turn him down.

So I come home with medicine, and another soaked up kitten.

Two days later I saw Sue stared outside through the gap of the fence for the whole hour and when I peeked out of curiosity, I found Patch, not much better from the other kittens: shivering, sneezing, and starving.

With that condition I was bound to have a showdown with pretty Calici again and so I geared myself up, just enough when Sue started to refuse her food, and grow a white speckle on her lips. The grim reaper is coming.

Handling Calici is generally symptomatic. For those who really love and care (and pay attention) to their cat(s) it's not that hard, as long as you keep an eye on your kitten and detect it on the first symptom appearance, be it lethargy, or mouth ulcer, continuous sneezing, or even food refusal. Keep your kitten warm all the time, continue to rehydrate her, never stop the antibiotics, extra dose of vitamins and immune boosters, and if he or she can hold on over a week or until his/her sinuses dried up, there are good chances that they are going to make it.

However, that also means you will have to monitor your cat practically 24/7. My rescue years had given me a solid training in giving intra venous re-hydration so that I can handle the initial stage without having to go back and forth with a sick cat and expose them to the elements and instead, keep them in the warmth of their isolation basket. I made myself a night lamp with 15 Watts bulb to keep the kittens warmer, and if necessary, add a bottle of warm water inside their cage.

The challenge will escalate when they got into the next stage, because you will have to force feed them. None of them would want to eat because their tongue and lips are full with ulcers, hence it's painful to even swallow. In some cases, they can have cramps on their jaws that they can't open their mouth at all.  I am sure you know how much patience and skill is needed to tube feed a sick cat.

If nothing can go in, you will have to leave your cat at the vet's because he/she will need iv, which is yet another challenge.

Working with feverish cats means they will be trashing around due to the uncomfortable heat and pain in their muscle, and if you cannot keep them calm and still, the iv needle can't go in, much less help them.

Sometimes, instead of appreciating what you are trying to do to save their lives, cats in pain will bite you.

So here comes my dire warning: if you are not tough enough to master your temper, don't touch your sick cat. Bring them to the vet, and let them handle it, with the risk of ripping your wallet or draining your pet insurance. Trust me, it is still better than killing your beloved pet with your own hand in a fist of anger.

Handling Calici, in short, require patience, and high quality care. Your cat will need your totality, and if one cat need you that much, I have eight.



It is impossible to hold three side jobs in a week and still spend sufficient time to attend the sick properly, So I took my leap of faith, and gave up all my side job. I left our food solely to the strength of my salary, and a lot of prayers that one of God's angel, or God Himself, will drop His wallet somewhere around my account.

Luckily, He did. Otherwise I would have been hitting the headlines when my starved body, along with twenty cats, were found inside a small rent in a beautiful resort city of Bandung. He sent a few of His angels to drop extra money so I can buy cat food and stock up on rapidly-decreasing medical stock.

And then, there is some quote saying that you a ray of light, no matter how small, is the brightest when you are in the darkness. Of all eight, four shone out brightly.

From left to right: Sue, Spring, Tutti Cutie, Patch

While other kittens come and go like the swift breeze, these four: Sue, Spring, Tutti Cutie (spell it like you want to spell Tutti Frutti ice cream) and Patch fought harder. They do not refuse their iv, they embrace the warm bottle, they stay still when the iv needle puncture their emaciated body, and they tried their hardest to eat, though only one lick and leave everything else to the tube.

Sue fought a good ten days before she gave up and went over the bridge on Holy Thursday, just when I read the bible on Last Supper as my atonement for not being able to attend mass. Early in Good Friday, Spring moved over, and in the evening my Tutti Cutie call it quits on my laps. She is the youngest of the four, and the only one to develop jaundice.

Patch went on in early Saturday.

I hate myself for losing, but one of the two vets to whom I am a regular warned me that Calici is not every cat's fight. Here in Indonesia, in damp, damned Bandung, Calici is certain death. For those orphaned cats who has no guarantee of immune system to hold on over a week are magnificent, and I should never forget that I still have another four that I need to defend. Not to mention the other twenty that I manage to keep healthy.

My brother's text is even more cruel. Here is a copy paste:

Not everyone can stay. Noah's ark can only hold a pair of each animals, and you've only got two hands. You've got four more to fight with, so better keep that chin up and those eyes open rather than crumbling for the dead.

It is the most cruel comment, but probably the truest.