Speak no evil

(Everything in this post and blog is my own personal opinion, and in no way reflects that of the SPCA or its staff and other volunteers.)

Happy Birthday to me! And I spend this first hour of being 25 years old, reviewing the mistakes I have committed as a new volunteer at the SPCA.

The biggest problem a volunteer can have begins with the question "Excuse me, do you work here?" This question usually leads to questions that I am not comfortable with, because they have not formally trained Kennel Helpers to deal with the typical questions families who have made that special trip all the way to the SPCA have.

The SPCA has Counsellors who are trained to answer questions and also screen potential adopters for the kennel animals, and this better-PR-trained team of individuals can be easily identified by their bright red polo-shirts. But of course anyone would ask you first if they saw you fussing over and spoiling huge Benji in his cage, and apparently not in any danger (yet) of being mauled to death by Benji and the great big teeth he has. And, regardless of the fact that I had redirected their questions, some people will still come back to me to ask "so how is that dog?".

So come the questions, and the probably inappropriate answers.

I once made the mistake of saying a bit too much (it really was something rather innocent and naively indignant; like "yes their owner left them both here!!") , only to realise too late that the usual Counsellor on Sundays had been frantically waving her arms at me hoping I would direct the visitors' attention to her for politically correct answers. I bit my tongue, mind plunging into a deep dark valley of regret, where the souls of poor abandoned pets at the SPCAs roamed for eternity because of the stupidity of their inexperienced Kennel Helpers. These stupid Kennel Helpers, who had said the dumbest things and spoilt any chance of them being adopted by a decent family. Luckily, those 2 Golden Retrievers were adopted within the fortnight.

I am probably not in any position to question the SPCA methods since I have no instruction in their methods of potential adopter screening, not to mention the fact that SPCA does seem to have a rather high successful adoption rate (based on un-scientific statistical methods - since February, I've only known of 2 dogs returned after being adopted). But I wonder if we sometimes disclose too little information about the pets awaiting adoption. Information which might affect the chances of their adoption, especially for the dogs. Because as a volunteer, I do learn things about the dogs in my fortnightly Sunday morning interactions which I feel are not conveyed in the dog's description on the SPCA website and at the SPCA shelter.

It could be simple things that could melt an undecided adopter's heart - like Toto loves to show you he loves you by bringing his toys to share when you come home. But Toto hates pink socks and they provoke him to attack them, but you love wearing pink socks and decide after a week that you had enough of this crazy dog who took to attacking your ankles and adoption had been a big mistake. It could be something very basic - JOEY DOES NOT SHARE FOOD (see note 1 below); hence Joey started fighting with your other dog when you thought they would get along fine during the adoption screening period. It could be something more sinister - Baby had a terrible experience when he was a pup, and needs time and love to build trust in you. Baby is most loving and adorable when he sees familiar faces but acts like he wants to attack strangers - no one might take him home if the staff or volunteers at the SPCA don't because no potential adopter will return again for Baby if they don't understand his history.

We all want the best for these animals. There is nothing sadder than seeing the same little dog, cat or rabbit faces month after month, or seeing a familiar dog returned not long after he left. But once you start talking to these people who might make a huge difference to the life of one of the animals at the SPCA, where do you decide to stop?

(Note 1: Yes, that is a quote from the American sitcom, 'Friends'.)

Good things come in pairs

It's not very often that dogs who turn up in SPCA end up being caged with another. But we've had 2 pairs in the last month I've been there.


Bubbles and Baby

These 2 GR boys were adopted not long after I saw them on the 20th of April. Hopefully (and I think they did, see below) they were adopted together and are happy in their new home.


Sherry the Golden Retriever and Yao Yao the Chihuahua

This funny pair attracted lots of attention today at SPCA, with Sherry being so big and Yao Yao so tiny. I heard that the SPCA would prefer both dogs being adopted together, as, in the Pet Counselor's own words, separating them would make them pine for each other, and develop into post-adoption depression.

It's great that the SPCA takes such things into consideration when evaluating the suitability of families wanting to adopt dogs. Of course, adopting a dog is difficult enough, let alone two, and I wish both pairs all the best of luck in their new homes. Because the saddest thing is seeing a dog returned after having been rejected by their new home.

***

I just got back from Vietnam. The Vietnamese really love their small dogs, and I've seen a few hundred Chihuahuas in the one week I was there.

The mystery: where did all the cats go?

After almost 5 days, I finally saw my very first cat in Hanoi - a white long haired cat with blue eyes, tied on a string to the back door in an alley. The next cat I saw was another white long-haired cat tied to the entrance of a guesthouse. Most bizarre. But somebody suggested that it might be some kind of good luck charm.

I then learnt that Vietnamese eat dogs; then actually saw for myself dog meat being sold on the roadside on my way to Halong Bay (there was a Vietnamese sign advertising sale of dog meat, and a dog cage with 3 medium size dogs locked underneath); and heard speculation that the Vietnamese eat stray cats.

Chihuahua as pets made sense now: they ate relatively little, making it an economical choice for most Vietnamese who did not have the means to support a larger dog. Plus, little skinny Chihuahuas would not tempt your neighbour into stealing and killing it for dinner. But I couldn't fathom eating stray cats as most of them would seldom grow substantially larger than a Chihuahua. Stray cats are not totally extinct in Vietnam though. I finally did hear some feral cats running about rooftops at night in Hanoi, and visited 2 shops which kept local cats as pets.

An American volunteer at the animal shelter who I see every fortnight at SPCA made me laugh when she told me this morning that she had previously rejected a posting to Vietnam because she felt that her 2 huge 10kg cats would not be safe in Vietnam and could end up as her (prospective) Vietnamese cleaning lady's dinner one fine day.

A Cat like Muffin

Everybody wants a cat like Muffin.



Muffin, Persian, with a hint of Maine Coon. Blue-grey with yellow eyes. He surveys his strange surroundings calmly. He lets you pet him, but is not keen to be picked up. He's quiet. He is a gem among all the 'local' breed cats at the SPCA.

This morning, a middle age lady and her husband have chosen him. He is just like my old cat, she tells the pet counselors. It died over a year ago. We found him one day outside the house and kept him for 12 years, but he had breathing problems and we had to put him to sleep.

Muffin has lost his reticence and is pawing the lady affectionately. He reaches out with both paws through the bars of the cage, and places them on the sides of her face, a gesture that looks as if he is caressing a face that is very dear to him. I think he is the reincarnation of my cat, she tells me later, weaving Hindu mysticism into the lives of the cats at the shelter.

But Muffin already has somebody waiting to adopt him, and the Indian couple is placed on the waiting list. A few days later, Muffin goes to a new home, and somebody must have been disappointed.

Everybody wants a cat like Muffin, except the person who left him at the SPCA.

Adopt me

After hanging out at the SPCA for consecutive weekends, I still cannot decide whether I like dogs or cats more. Cleaning dog cages is definitely the messier job, but dogs are such uncomplicated animals.

Cats are small and lovely, but unpredictable. Actually I think it does not matter whether it's a cat or dog, I'd like a quiet pet who would be contented to sit still and let me fuss and pet it for hours on end without complaining.

I think I need a soft toy (instead).

Rabbits however, remain totally alien to me. Though this last weekend, supervised by an experience full-time staff in the cats and small animals section, I finally learnt the 'right' way to grab a rabbit from its cage: position your hand ready, and grab the back of the rabbit's neck. The element of surprise is extremely important. But this method looks like it hurts, so I continue to hold them under the front legs, supporting their bums.

For cats, it seems they don't really mind all that much being hoisted under their front legs as long as you are confident.

Back to adoption. I'm here because my mother would not let me bring a dog or cat home. She still does not seem to be relenting on that point, so I can probably forget about adopting as long as I live under her roof.

Favourite adoption candidates of the week:

1. This lovely Chihuahua called Rudy (male, 6 years old) who is really hot stuff. Going soon
   
   
2. Spot (black dog x-breed, 2 years old) who is pending
   
   
3. Moo Ping, (brown dog x-breed 5 months) whose name sounds really close to my boyfriend's brother
   
4. Thomas (black & white cat 1 year old) because last Saturday, he spotted me from outside, mewed at me, then happily allowed me to place him on my lap and let me fuss over him. Though he started chewing my hand at the end of it all. I do not like being chewed.
   

Time to sleep.