A Letter From New Orleans

Dear Shelley,
First of all I must say that I am glad you are back. We have been having quite an interesting time. After we left Vancouver Buhd and I wandered rather aimlessly down through the states. We stopped in Montana to visit friends and then wandered on down towards Texas, where we have a good number of friends and family. So it happened that we were not too far away when Hurricane Katrina hit the Gulf States. As we were so close we decided to go down and look around, and see what we might do to help.
But before I tell you about that, let me go back a few years, to the big Northridge Earthquake in January of 1994. Shelley, my dear, I was there, and I lived through it. And I must tell you that it was something that changed my life forever. I woke up to screams (my own), and the sounds of things breaking and falling. I got up, or at least I tried to, because the ground was shaking under my paws. I walked out into the living room, and stopped in my tracks. Large pieces of furniture like the console TV were lying flat on the floor, and everything around me that could break was broken. We soon discovered that we had no electricity or gas either. Fortunately all of the members of my family were present and accounted for, and no one was injured. The house was damaged, but still standing, but I will never forget the destruction all around me.
It was terrible, and everyone in town felt as if their lives had ended. I have to tell you it took me months to get back on my paws. Physically I was fine, but mentally and emotionally I was devastated. I tell you all of this because I hope it will help you understand what happened in New Orleans.
Buhd and I arrived to find a scene that is almost indescribable. Nothing, NOTHING was left! Whole blocks of houses were just flattened piles of rubble. And those that weren’t were under the foulest smelling water I have ever scene in my life. Bodies of people and animals floated among the living beings stranded on their housetops and porches. Oh, Shelley, I wish you could have seen it. It literally brought tears to my eyes as we went about in a boat delivering food and water, and helping to get the living out.
And as I looked I thought back on my own experiences in the Earthquake. I had lost many things, but they were only things, and yet I had felt such a sense of devastation. I could not even imagine what these people were feeling. They had lost EVERYTHING! Not just things, but their homes, and their livelihood, and in many cases, members of their family. I could not even begin to comprehend what they must be feeling. Such sorrow, such devastation, such utter destruction!
Realizing that our hope was not even a drop in a bucket, we went on to visit some of the local animal shelters. Oh, Shelley, I have to tell you, that is when my heart broke. How can I begin to describe the overwhelming sense of despair I felt to see my four-footed brothers and sisters living in such conditions? Oh, certainly, the shelters were not at fault. They were doing all they could. Sadly it was not nearly enough. In just the short time we were there several hundred more animals were brought in to be crowded into already too full cages, and to be fed what was available. The workers there made valiant efforts to reunite animals with owners, but this was nearly an impossible task. Even to just find foster and adoptive families for the animals was almost impossible. And for some, it was simply too late.
I will never forget one old hound dog .He was old, and had several teeth missing. He just sat in his kennel with a resigned look on his old furry face. He didn’t even cry like some of the younger animals were doing. You could tell he had gone beyond tears. I felt drawn to him and went over to talk to him, and this was his story.
“I was adopted as a young pup by an old man who had recently retired. My human loved to fish and hunt, and we spent many happy hours in the countryside in these happy pursuits. As the two of us grew older, we hunted less often, but spent many hours sitting by the riverside just talking and relaxing. Finally my human became too old to care for himself, and he moved into a nursing home. I was allowed to go with him. It was not so bad. I have already lived well beyond the years of most dogs, and I wasn’t much up to fishing any more. We could still sit on the porch and talk. Then this hurricane came, and I have never seen anything like it as long as I lived. It hit so fast there was nothing we could do. My human and many of his companions didn’t escape. You know, BabyCat, I have many happy memories, but I know I will not be in this world much longer.”
Shelley, I tried to comfort him as best as I could, but he told me he no longer had the will to live. He crossed the Rainbow Bridge that night, as I held his paw.
Buhd and I will go on to Mississippi tomorrow, and I will write you from there.

With tears in my eyes, BabyCat