Cat Hoarders

I dropped by my local Humane Society (OSPCA) today to drop off some stuff for the yard sale they're holding on August 23rd. The large storage room was bursting at the seams, so it should raise lots of money to help run the centre.

While there, I visited the cats (of course) and found that the shelter had recently taken in 42 cats from the home of a "cat hoarder". I'd never heard that term before, and discovered it applies to anyone owning ten or more cats. I looked up "cat hoarder" on Google, and got over 5,000 hits, but didn't check any of them out because I was afraid there would be heart wrenching photos -- and I'd already seen enough.

The OSPCA had posted some pictures at the shelter depicting the living conditions the felines had to endure -- mounds of garbage strewn throughout, and filth coating every surface. The cats had never played with toys nor had any human interaction, yet they didn't turn away when I patted them. I'm hopeful that once adopted, the cats will respond to the love given by their new families.

You know, we joke about the 'crazy cat lady' , but having too many pets might overwhelm the average person -- no matter how much that person believes they love the animals. I suppose, instead of treating these people with humour, we should make sure the cats are receiving the appropriate care.

Wonderful People

There are some wonderful people in the world, and the founders of "Angel's Gate", an animal hospice, are the cream of the crop. Please take a moment to check them out.

Hot Dogs

Summertime -- warm weather, misguided folks and steamy cars. This is a repeat of my very first post on this blog, I hope you don't mind, but I think it's important to remind people about the danger.



Dear owner: Please leave me at home. It gets really, really hot in the car. I don’t like it. Love, your loyal pet.

Does this look familiar? I hope not. If you’ve been the recipient of such a note, then you’re guilty of inflicting a cruelty no animal should be forced to suffer—being left in a parked car on a warm day.

Yes, I’m willing to admit that I am the local pet protector who secretly slides these notes under your windshield wiper. As you may have noticed, I always make sure that the writing faces the inside of the vehicle. That way, it can be easily read when you finally do return to your pet.

I am the person who advised the cashier at Chapters that you had left your headlights on. It was the tiniest of lies. I’d hoped that, after hearing the announcement, you would rush out, read my note, feel the appropriate amount of shame and vow never to leave your dog in the car again. Just to let you know, I waited 15 minutes before you returned. What were you thinking?

Many errant pet owners may claim they’re only making a quick dash into the grocery store. But you know how it is; a list of three items can soon turn into a cart full of food. The line-ups can seem excruciatingly long to the animal you’ve left in the stifling heat.

Just recently, I happened upon a policeman standing helplessly beside a parked car. A dog, its tongue dangling over its lower jaw, paced along the back seat. Interested bystanders lingered in front of the stores. The cop mumbled into his radio. Was he getting permission to break the window and rescue the animal? I sat in my own car (windows cranked open) and waited.

The sound of smashing glass was not to be. Instead, a harried woman, with two young children tugging on her arm, approached the car. At that moment, I envisioned her back at home, rounding up the kids, searching for her purse and shopping list before heading, breathless, out the door. The kids may have begged to bring Fido along with them. Overworked and tired, she gave in.

The cop spoke to her, the crowd dispersed, and I started my car and pulled away. I had mixed feelings about that particular episode. I could empathize with the woman but the fact remained—the dog could have died.

Even with the windows partially open, the temperature inside a car can reach 49 degrees Celsius (120 Fahrenheit) within minutes. I often hear warnings on the radio and television advising pet owners about the dangers. And, still, people continue to invite their beloved canine friends along for the ride.

Last summer, unprepared, I would scribble my notes on any available scrap of paper—a bank receipt or a Starbucks serviette. This year, when the warm weather began to poke its way through the winter’s chill, I knew it was time to pull my pet protector cloak from the closet. Anticipating a rash of owners not heeding the media warnings, I’ve printed off 20 copies of the note (it’s true, this is becoming a bit of an obsession). I’ll stash the notes in my glove compartment and, hopefully, there will be some remaining when the weather eventually begins to cool.

No one’s ever caught me playing the crusader to these four-legged victims. I’m very careful. With the ease of a seasoned stalker, I stroll toward my target and, in a fluid motion, whisk the piece of paper into place. Seldom do the animals, usually dogs, make any kind of fuss. The odd time, I see the owners discover my note. It’s interesting to observe their suspicious and, sometimes, angry glances around the parking lot.

I’m not brave enough for a confrontation with the dog’s owner; I know how defensive I would get if someone questioned my ability to care for my pet. Most people love and treat their pets as an important member of the family. It’s understandable that, in a moment of weakness, owners give in to the pleading in their dog’s eyes as they pick up the car keys. This is one time that owners must say no. The animal will be much happier and safer in the home.

I will continue to protect the furry citizens in my town. I encourage everyone to be on the lookout for those black noses pressed through a sliver of open window, trying to catch a whisper of fresh air. Print your own notes (I always try to be as polite as possible). Make a difference. Save a life.

My essay, Pet Protector to the Rescue, first appeared in the Globe and Mail in July 2003.

A Bird with Almost Nine Lives

Let's go back to when I was about thirteen years old. It is, unfortunately, a bit of a journey, but I think we can make it ...

Snow bent branches toward the ground, and even more swirled at our feet as my girlfriend and I made our way home one evening. Up ahead, I saw a bit of colour, and upon closer inspection, discovered a green-feathered budgie. I'd like to say I was wise enough to put the bird under my coat and take it home, but, apparently, I wasn't. I picked him up and stuck him in a bush. Then I went home and told my parents. They were probably appalled for they sent me back out of to retrieve the shivering budgie.

I raced back up the street, afraid the bird had found shelter elsewhere or, worse, died. But there he was, exactly where I'd left him (his feet probably frozen to branch). I cupped him in my mittened hands, and brought him home. Placing the bird on the floor, we watched as he walked up and down the hall, scratching and fluffing his feathers. We called him "Itchy" (I suppose we could have called him Fluffy, but that didn't seem appropriate). We retrieved an old bird cage from the basement, fitted it out as best we could, then introduced Itchy to his new home.

That was Life Number One.

Itchy became a great source of entertainment. Of course, this was in the days when there was only 13 channels on the television, and Monopoly was the game of choice. If we placed a spoon or quarter on the counter, Itchy picked it up and tossed it over the side, angling his head to the side to better hear it's ringing tones as it hit the floor. He loved to shower under warm, running water between the two sinks in the kitchen. And I shudder to think of it now, but I let him eat Kraft dinner from the side of my plate. He was a fully-fledged member of the family.

We never did buy him a new cage as the old one worked just fine, except for the door -- it had to be held open with a twist tie. Each morning, the cage was opened, and Itchy was free to roam the house while we were at home. I recently asked my mom if there was bird poop all over, but she can't recall, and neither can I. When we went downstairs to watch television, we carried the cage and Itchy down with us. One night, I noticed Itchy struggling at the cage door -- the twist tie had pierced his neck. Blood splattered, I screamed, and my dad hurdled over the coffee table, saving Itchy from a most horrifying demise.

That was Life Number Two.

One of Itchy's favourite warm weather perches was the screen door at the front of our house. Gripping the metal frame at the top of lower window, he'd watch the world go by. It must have been a Saturday -- that was chore day -- and my mom decided to clean the window of the screen door. To do so, she had to first lift out the lower window. It's difficult to explain, but suffice to say, Itchy lost a toe (claw?) that day. My poor mom felt so bad, but the injury didn't slow our bird down a bit.

That was Life Number Three.

Unfortunately, Itchy didn't survive his fourth life. Six years after that snowstorm, he died in a freak accident (of course). We missed him terribly, but continued to marvel at his determination and intelligence.

Spring Has Sprung

Chipmunks and squirrels dash across the road, leaves dot branches, and plants pop up in the garden. It's official -- spring has arrived. Along with all the action on the street and in the yard, we might see the newest crop of furry and feathered critters. So ... what do you do if it appears a fledgling or baby rabbit has strayed too far from the nest?

Fledglings without feathers should, if possible, be placed back into their nests. If you can't reach the nest, the Manitoba Wildlife Rehabilitation Centre recommends making another nest from an empty margarine container. Cut small drainage holes in the bottom, line with grass and twigs, then place as close to the real nest as possible. The adult birds will feed both nests. And don't worry about touching them as the parents have a very poor sense of smell.

Older fledglings will spend several days on the ground learning to fly. I always worry about these guys, but this is a perfectly normal part of their development. A few years ago, I found one on a busy sidewalk. I placed him on the grass, hoping he'd be out of harm's way.

Baby rabbits should be left alone. Unlike birds, rabbits have a keen sense of smell. Not wanting to draw attention to the nest, the mother will return only twice each day to feed the babies. If the rabbit is larger than a softball, it's already independent of its parent.

Most areas worldwide have wildlife rehabilitation organizations that will answer questions or take in injured or abandoned animals. If you're searching for one near you, check out this site: Wildlife Rehabilitator Locator

Working With Animals

I've decided to volunteer at my local Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals -- if they'll have me. One reason I haven't done this before is I wasn't sure I'd be able to handle seeing the homeless animals on a regular basis, but I've visited quite a lot recently and survived. Did you know that you can volunteer to socialize with the cats? How purr-fect! Like a Walmart greeter of the animal world.

There are so many dedicated folks out there -- volunteers and those who have been trained and educated to work with both pets and wildlife. There's a North American website called AnimalWork.org. It’s a job-matching site for all jobs related to animals, like training, grooming, veterinary medicine, caretaking, retail and zoo positions. Wouldn't it be wonderful to be paid for doing something you love?

Can You Stand It? Another Happy Ending

Last November, two-year-old Bear, a black lab mix, disappeared from his Nova Scotia home during a snowstorm. His owners, Arie and Jackie Levering, searched the area; and notified neighbours, animal control and the veterinary hospital.

Ten long weeks passed without Bear, and the couple soon gave up hope, believing the dog had either been hit by a car or attacked by coyotes. On January 23rd, the vet phoned with news that Bear had been found.

David Lewis, a government employee, was in his truck when he spotted a dog crawl out from the woods. Mr. Lewis figured the dog was lost, so opened the door and Bear jumped in. At the veterinary hospital, it was discovered Bear had two broken legs, a crushed pelvis, and lost two-thirds of his body weight. Some of the fractures had fused, so there may be surgery in Bear's future.

The Leverings believe Bear may have been hit by a snowplow, but have no idea how the injured dog survived for two months in the dead of winter. One thing they do know for sure -- they're glad to have Bear home with them.

Caught in the Headlights: Wildlife on Our Roads

The other night, my headlights flashed on a deer at the side of the road, but she'd been hit and was quite obviously dead. Since her head was still in the way of traffic, I called 911. Because of that scene, and so many others like it, I thought I'd post something from last summer. I believe the message is important, so instead of calling it re-posting, let's call it re-gifting.


On Sunday, I drove past three dead raccoons--one large, two quite small--grouped together at the side of the road. Whenever I see roadkill, I imagine a possible scenario: After foraging for food, a mother raccoon makes her way back to her children only to be struck by a car. But on that particular Sunday morning, it was the entire family of raccoons who lost their lives. It makes me incredibly sad to see wildlife so senselessly killed (although it's hard to think of a senseful killing).

According to a study by L.P. Tardiff & Associates for Transport Canada, motor vehicles may be the number one predator of wildlife. Some statistics from Wikipedia:

"Merritt Clifton, editor of Animal People Newspaper estimated that the following animals are being killed by motor vehicles in the United States annually:

41 million squirrels
26 million cats
22 million rats
19 million opossums
15 million raccoons
6 million dogs
350,000 deer"

Often, there's not much a driver can do to avoid hitting animals that venture onto the road, especially at night. Animals react differently--a rabbit's frozen bewilderment as a car barrels toward it; a deer's unexpected jog to the left when we expect it to go right. So it's up to us to take precautions.

What drivers can do:

Ease up on the gas pedal when driving through wildlife areas. Look for the yellow, diamond-shaped warning signs.

Watch for movement at the roadside, and slow down when you see any. It's far better to use your brakes than to use your wheel as swerving may result in the loss of control.

Be aware that wildlife is most active at dawn and dusk.

Watch for the car's headlights reflecting off the animal's eyes. Often drivers will see the shining eyes before they see the animal.

Anticipate unpredictable behaviour from all wildlife.

What governments can do:

Build wildlife underpasses and overpasses. On the Trans-Canada Highway, through Banff National Park, 24 underpasses and overpasses have been constructed--the largest scale wildlife passage in the world. Since 1996, more than 50,000 large mammals have used them, and animal-vehicle collisions have dropped by 80%.

Erect animal crossing signs on high-risk stretches.

Invest in heat-seeking cameras that detect animals and warn drivers when one is ahead, or wildlife warning systems that use alternating sounds and lights to scare animals when vehicles approach.


For more information on reducing the risk, check out this site:

Wildlife Collision Prevention Program

Let me know if there are other measures we can take to keep our wildlife safe and alive.

The Gift

Readers of this blog have shared stories and memories of their own pets, plus their thoughts and concerns for the other animals around them. I think it's safe to say we all have a healthy respect and love for our furry friends. But there are many who consider an animal something to be conquered, abused and/or abandoned.

Why the difference? Is it a case of nature versus nurture? Are some of us born with an innate ability to open our hearts to animals, while others lack that special gene? Were we taught to care about them when others may have skipped that particular class? Perhaps a bit of both.

When I was a kid, we had a dog named Tammy, a friendly and affectionate Samoyed. My sister and I were there for the birth of her two litters of fluffy, white puppies, and given the responsibility to care for them. It was a wonderful experience. My parents gave us the tools to look after the puppies, and showed us how to use them. The love just came naturally.

My dad's fondness for wildlife is, amongst family and friends, quite renowned. Along with Christmas lights, my parents' home is strung with bird feeders. Screened trays are set out for the squirrels, and a heated bath welcomes the frost-nipped birds. About ten years ago, my mom saved a six week old white kitten she found in a parking lot. Today, that cat shares my parent's home and their love.

I believe I've passed on to my daughter the lessons my parents taught me. She cares about animals, and is as dismayed by any cruelty just as much as I am. Or perhaps she was born with that extra love in her heart. Whichever, it doesn't matter. Respect for animals is a gift--the kind of gift that keeps on giving.

Thanks to all for sharing your own stories of beloved pets. I look forward to reading more of them in the New Year.

No Guts, No Glory

If you're a regular visitor to my blog, you'll have noticed that I seldom address the real issues affecting animals. Sure, I've shared my views on animals performing in circuses, dogs left in sun-soaked cars, and the loss of the world's wildlife. But the down and dirty stuff? No.

I haven't the guts to read about abused animals, never mind write about them. I know the horror stories are out there, and it just about breaks my heart to acknowledge that there are some people (and I use that term lightly) who would treat an animal with anything but love and respect.

Luckily, there's lots of brave folks who can and do deal with the important stuff. And so, today, I'm honouring those who make a difference--thank you.

Halloween for the Furry Set

Halloween can be a scary time for your pet. Just a few things to keep in mind:

Chocolate is toxic to pets (I know it's toxic to my thighs--must resist temptation).

Candles should be kept away from wagging tails.

Kids and the constantly ringing doorbell can freak a pet out. Best to keep pets in another room.

Knowing Your A Bee C's

Honeybees go about their business collecting nectar and, inadvertently, pollinating the many plants they visit. They've been doing it for thousands of years and will continue on for thousands more.

Or will they?

Last night, Nature (PBS) took veiwers on one of its more frightening rides. The series, "Silence of the Bees", searched for answers to the puzzling decline in honeybee numbers. Scientists and beekeepers have a name for it--Colony Collapse Disorder (CCD). Just last month, the main cause of CCD was discovered by American researchers. From Nature's website:

Researchers have "linked CCD with a virus imported from Australia, IAPV or Israeli Acute Paralysis Virus. Over the past three years, genetic tests on bees collected from stricken colonies around the U.S. found the virus in 96 percent of bees from hives affected by Colony Collapse Disorder."

Last winter's loss of tens of billions of bees has not greatly impacted our lives. But if CCD continues, and the pollination that bees provide stops, then crops such as apples, nuts, broccoli, soybeans, celery, squash and cucumbers, citrus fruit, peaches, cherries, blueberries, strawberries, and melons will disappear. Without honeybees, animal-feed crops, such as the clover that's fed to dairy cows, will be affected.

Until scientists, hopefully, remedy the situation, we can all do our best to help keep bees nourished and healthy:

Grow flowers and herbs that attract bees:

Basil, Borage, Catnip, Cornflower, Dill, Echinacea, Evening Primrose, Fennel, Goldenrod, Horehound, Hyssop, Lavender, Parsley, Poppy, Thyme, Sage, Bachelor's Button, Black-Eyed Susan, Butterfly Bush, Clematis, Coreopsis, Dame's Rocket, Foxglove, Goldenrod, Heliotrope, Hydrangea, Lantana, Larkspur, Mexican Hat, Plumbago, Rose of Sharon, Salvia, Sweet William, Zinnia

Plant many of the same species close to each other.

Bees are most attracted to gardens with ten or more species of plants.

Wild and weedy is good.

Don't use pesticides!

What About the Animals?

Families evacuated, homes lost, and forests destroyed--the fires continue their terrifying assault on California. Of course, I worry about the people living there, and the firefighters who work so hard and in such dangerous conditions, but whenever I hear about these disasters, I always wonder, What about the animals?

For pet owners, many shelters have been set up to ease the burden caused by the evacuation. A friend, a California resident, rescued a dog she found wandering alone in a park. She told me about another abandoned pet that was taken to the vet, only to have it discovered that the sickly pit bull puppy suffered from Canine Parvovirus (PARVO), a potentially deadly disease.

And what about wildlife? Lizards, snakes and rodents burrow underground, so are relatively safe. Birds, unless nesting, easily fly from the fires. Larger animals, such as foxes, deer and bears, are at greater risk since their only means of escape is by running away which, depending on the fire's speed, is not always successful.

For those animals who do make it, surviving the fire's aftermath is the next hurdle. Intense fires cause the loss of vital topsoil needed for regrowth, and destroy seeds. Fire suspension methods, such as bulldozing, can alter the landscape and contaminate the soil.

Is there anything you can do to help wildlife after a fire? Here are a few tips from Douglas D. McCreary, Natural Resources Specialist, University of California:

Build and install nest boxes.
Retain some down and dead large woody material for amphibians and reptiles.
Provide clean water in shallow containers for animals moving through your property.

It's all so much doom and gloom, but I was able to find one bit of good news: The California Department of Fish and Game (DFG) reminds hunters that wild fires can alter hunting plans. Fire restrictions can limit a big game tag holder’s access in certain zones depending on conditions. So put away your guns, boys.

Winterizing Your Pet

Up here, in the land of drastic seasonal changes, winter will soon be upon us. Snow, ice, chilling winds--man, I can hardly wait. Fortunately, I'm able to come into the house when I'm cold, put on the appropriate number of layers while I'm outside, and blast the heater when I'm in the car. Pets can't voice their complaints, so rely on their owners to keep them safe from winter's woes.

CATS

I don't have to worry about my cat as she only goes into the backyard, with me, on warm, dry days. Cat owners, who do let their cats outside, should be aware that:

Cats seeking warmth under vehicle hoods can be killed by the fan belt once the car is started. I once believed this to be an urban myth, but it happened to a friend of mine (and to his own cat). He described the result as "kitty catchatorie". Cat owner or not, always bang on the hood before starting your car.

Cats like the taste of antifreeze. Not a good thing. Clean up any spills immediately.

If you must keep or let your cat outdoors in the winter, make sure they have a secure place, protected from the wind and the wet.

DOGS

Now, dogs have to go outside (unless there's a stupid dog product called "The Doggy Litter" that I missed). Some dogs tolerate the cold well, but for those who favour warmer weather, then a dog coat might be just the thing. Yes, I know this goes against what I preached in my Dapper Dogs post, but as long as the owner isn't trying to make a fashion statement, I think it's okay.

If your pet is outside, check on him often because conditions can change suddenly. If you keep your dog outside all winter (brrr!), give them adequate shelter and a supply of fresh water.

Leaving a dog in the car during the winter months can be just as dangerous as it is in the summer months. A car holds the cold, acting like a refrigerator, so is potentially deadly.


I know you keep your pet safe, but perhaps your neighbour doesn't. If that's the case, why not print off this post and stick it in his mailbox? Anonymously, of course.

Mid-Air Collisions

Eons ago, when I worked in Toronto, I passed the Exchange Tower each morning on my mad dash from the train. One day, I spotted an injured bird on the ground, beside the Tower's massive windows.

What a beauty it was--long beak and smooth, brown plumage. Its black eyes were open, and I wanted so much to pick up the bird and comfort it (of course, that would probably have stressed it even more). Suddenly, getting to work on time was no longer important. I assumed the bird had hit the window, so I waited, hoping it had only been stunned. But the poor thing never recovered.

At work, the image of the bird haunted me. By the afternoon, I decided to contact the Tower's management. This was in the days before PC's and email, so I typed up a letter and mailed it off.

Within a month, I received a reply. They'd looked into the problem, and had been advised by the Ontario Science Centre to put dark silhouettes of hawks on the windows--the birds would steer clear of the presumed predator.

For years afterward, it gave me a great deal of satisfaction whenever I happened to look up at the hawk silhouettes. I don't know how many birds may have been saved, but I felt my letter had made a difference.

And I believe we can all make a difference--no matter how small.


Thanks to Eartheasy for the hawk silhouette. To learn about environmentally sustainable living, visit Greg Seaman's helpful website: Eartheasy

Going, Going, Gone

I watched Nature on PBS this week. The "Life in Death Valley" series highlights the plight of the Devil's Hole Pupfish--a fish that exists nowhere else and has survived in isolation for over 25,000 years. Until recently that is. Now, there's only about 125 of the little guys left. For more information: Life in Death Valley: Little Fish, Big Splash

This got me wondering about the many animals that are on the brink of extinction (never mind the ones that have already fallen over the edge). A large number of these are kept in the relative safety of zoos, but their living-in-the-wild brethren aren't faring too well:

2000 Giant Panda (Asia)
1650 Peregrin Falcon (North America)
1400 Hawaiian Monk Seal (Central Pacific)
700 Black-footed Ferrets (N.A.)
650 Mountain Gorilla (East Africa)
300 Cook Inlet Beluga Whale (Alaska)
200 Riverine Rabbit (South Africa)
100 Florida Panther (N.A.)
100 Red Wolf (N.A.)
100 Pink Dolphin (Taiwan)

And there's only 10-20 million black-tailed prairie dogs left. Yeah, I know, that sounds like a lot, but consider that their numbers have decreased by 95% in the last century.

Human encroachment, pollution, disease, commercial hunting/fishing, poaching--there's a long list of reasons why the world's wildlife are disappearing. The fact that we're responsible for the declining numbers is rather obvious.

I'll leave you with these fitting quotes:

"What is man without the beasts? If all the beasts were gone, man would die from a great loneliness of spirit. For whatever happens to the beasts, soon happens to man. All things are connected."

Chief Seattle, Leader of the Suquamish and Duwamish Native American tribes

"Mankind's true moral test, its fundamental test (which lies deeply buried from view), consists of its attitude towards those who are at its mercy: animals. And in this respect mankind has suffered a fundamental debacle, a debacle so fundamental that all others stem from it."

Milan Kundera, Czech Author, Critic

Stop Calling Me!

About twice each year, I get the same phone call. The conversation goes something like this:

"We want to thank you for your ongoing support of the Shrine Circus, and hope you'd once again purchase tickets--"

"I've never bought tickets," I say. "Does the circus have any performing animals?"

"Of course."

"I don't believe in forcing animals to do crazy stunts for my entertainment."

"Perhaps you'd like to sponsor a child to attend?"

"Uh, no. How do I get my name off your list?"

"You'd have to talk to my supervisor."


I can't be bothered. This isn't a rant against the Shriners--they do excellent work--but I've never purchased tickets, so why do they keep calling me? The bigger questions are, why do circuses continue to use the animals, and why do people support the spectacle? It's selfish and cruel. Damned circus freaks.

And those marine parks with the whales and dolphins?

Oh, don't get me started.



Thanks to The Captive Animals' Protection Society (CAPS) for the use of their poster image. Check out their website: CAPS Website

Caught in the Headlights: Wildlife on Our Roads

On Sunday, I drove past three dead raccoons--one large, two quite small--grouped together at the side of the road. Whenever I see roadkill, I imagine a possible scenario: After foraging for food, a mother raccoon makes her way back to her children only to be struck by a car. But on that particular Sunday morning, it was the entire family of raccoons who lost their lives. It makes me incredibly sad to see wildlife so senselessly killed (although it's hard to think of a senseful killing).

According to a study by L.P. Tardiff & Associates for Transport Canada, motor vehicles may be the number one predator of wildlife. Some statistics from Wikipedia:

"Merritt Clifton, editor of Animal People Newspaper estimated that the following animals are being killed by motor vehicles in the United States annually:

41 million squirrels
26 million cats
22 million rats
19 million opossums
15 million raccoons
6 million dogs
350,000 deer"

Often, there's not much a driver can do to avoid hitting animals that venture onto the road, especially at night. Animals react differently--a rabbit's frozen bewilderment as a car barrels toward it; a deer's unexpected jog to the left when we expect it to go right. So it's up to us to take precautions.

What drivers can do:

Ease up on the gas pedal when driving through wildlife areas. Look for the yellow, diamond-shaped warning signs.

Watch for movement at the roadside, and slow down when you see any. It's far better to use your brakes than to use your wheel as swerving may result in the loss of control.

Be aware that wildlife is most active at dawn and dusk.

Watch for the car's headlights reflecting off the animal's eyes. Often drivers will see the shining eyes before they see the animal.

Anticipate unpredictable behaviour from all wildlife.

What governments can do:

Build wildlife underpasses and overpasses. On the Trans-Canada Highway, through Banff National Park, 24 underpasses and overpasses have been constructed--the largest scale wildlife passage in the world. Since 1996, more than 50,000 large mammals have used them, and animal-vehicle collisions have dropped by 80%.

Erect animal crossing signs on high-risk stretches.

Invest in heat-seeking cameras that detect animals and warn drivers when one is ahead, or wildlife warning systems that use alternating sounds and lights to scare animals when vehicles approach.


For more information on reducing the risk, check out this site:

Wildlife Collision Prevention Program

Let me know if there are other measures we can take to keep our wildlife safe and alive.

Strays and Snowstorms

After a snowstorm, earlier this year, I began clearing my driveway. Amid the scrapings of shovels along the street, I heard a plaintive "Meow." Then another. My "Kitty in trouble" radar went up, and I searched for the source.

Several houses down, a large, black and white cat peered from atop a garage roof. A neighbour and I rescued the cat, set it on the ground, and wondered how the big guy got up there in the first place.

Then the cat followed me home.

I should have continued shoveling, but instead, I let the poor thing in the house where he proceeded to eat and make himself completely at home. Only problem was, I already had a cat and she was terrified of the newcomer.

The male cat (alternately named Buddy and Benjamin), was extremely friendly, affectionate and intelligent. And he wanted to be boss. After five days, a visit to the vet, 50 unanswered "Found Cat" notices around town, multiple sprayings inside my house, and an incredible amount of stress in my own cat, I took Buddy/Benjamin to the OSPCA (The Ontario Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals).

The shelter near my home has great facilities--large rooms, comfortable bedding, clean litters, windows, and lots of cat toys. Despite that, I cried as I filled out the forms and paid the Society to find this wonderful cat a new home. I promised myself that if he wasn't adopted within the month, I'd buy him back and live with the consequences.

During the following week, my daughter and I visited him, and he seemed to have settled in with the other cats quite well. I watched his progress on the OSPCA website (where they had named him "Eddie" for some reason), and by week two, he'd been adopted.

He was only in our house for five days, but he still made a big impression on us. Perhaps not as big an impression as he made on Meeko, our own cat. She still avoids the chair that Buddy/Benjamin/Eddie had claimed for his own.

Pet Protector to the Rescue

Dear owner: Please leave me at home. It gets really, really hot in the car. I don’t like it. Love, your loyal pet.

Does this look familiar? I hope not. If you’ve been the recipient of such a note, then you’re guilty of inflicting a cruelty no animal should be forced to suffer—being left in a parked car on a warm day.

Yes, I’m willing to admit that I am the local pet protector who secretly slides these notes under your windshield wiper. As you may have noticed, I always make sure that the writing faces the inside of the vehicle. That way, it can be easily read when you finally do return to your pet.

I am the person who advised the cashier at Chapters that you had left your headlights on. It was the tiniest of lies. I’d hoped that, after hearing the announcement, you would rush out, read my note, feel the appropriate amount of shame and vow never to leave your dog in the car again. Just to let you know, I waited 15 minutes before you returned. What were you thinking?

Many errant pet owners may claim they’re only making a quick dash into the grocery store. But you know how it is; a list of three items can soon turn into a cart full of food. The line-ups can seem excruciatingly long to the animal you’ve left in the stifling heat.

Just recently, I happened upon a policeman standing helplessly beside a parked car. A dog, its tongue dangling over its lower jaw, paced along the back seat. Interested bystanders lingered in front of the stores. The cop mumbled into his radio. Was he getting permission to break the window and rescue the animal? I sat in my own car (windows cranked open) and waited.

The sound of smashing glass was not to be. Instead, a harried woman, with two young children tugging on her arm, approached the car. At that moment, I envisioned her back at home, rounding up the kids, searching for her purse and shopping list before heading, breathless, out the door. The kids may have begged to bring Fido along with them. Overworked and tired, she gave in.

The cop spoke to her, the crowd dispersed, and I started my car and pulled away. I had mixed feelings about that particular episode. I could empathize with the woman but the fact remained—the dog could have died.

Even with the windows partially open, the temperature inside a car can reach 49 degrees Celsius within minutes. I often hear warnings on the radio and television advising pet owners about the dangers. And, still, people continue to invite their beloved canine friends along for the ride.

Last summer, unprepared, I would scribble my notes on any available scrap of paper—a bank receipt or a Starbucks serviette. This year, when the warm weather began to poke its way through the winter’s chill, I knew it was time to pull my pet protector cloak from the closet. Anticipating a rash of owners not heeding the media warnings, I’ve printed off 20 copies of the note (it’s true, this is becoming a bit of an obsession). I’ll stash the notes in my glove compartment and, hopefully, there will be some remaining when the weather eventually begins to cool.

No one’s ever caught me playing the crusader to these four-legged victims. I’m very careful. With the ease of a seasoned stalker, I stroll toward my target and, in a fluid motion, whisk the piece of paper into place. Seldom do the animals, usually dogs, make any kind of fuss. The odd time, I see the owners discover my note. It’s interesting to observe their suspicious and, sometimes, angry glances around the parking lot.

I’m not brave enough for a confrontation with the dog’s owner; I know how defensive I would get if someone questioned my ability to care for my pet. Most people love and treat their pets as an important member of the family. It’s understandable that, in a moment of weakness, owners give in to the pleading in their dog’s eyes as they pick up the car keys. This is one time that owners must say no. The animal will be much happier and safer in the home.

I will continue to protect the furry citizens in my town. I encourage everyone to be on the lookout for those black noses pressed through a sliver of open window, trying to catch a whisper of fresh air. Print your own notes (I always try to be as polite as possible). Make a difference. Save a life.

My essay, Pet Protector to the Rescue, first appeared in the Globe and Mail in July 2003.