dogs and kids
I don’t really know what has me so down lately. It could be the state of the city, the state of my life, or some combination thereof. Or it could be the looming prospect of leaving the city, and all the guilt and anger associated with that. But I have been just blue-to-the-point of black lately. Today it was somewhat better; yesterday was a big black hole. (“Yippee,” you’re thinking, “so glad I decided to read Melissa’s blog!” Yeah, well here’s a big warning, if you’re looking for Happy Me scan down until you find something about “Ivy” or “dogs.” Actually, some of the dog stuff is really sad too.)
Earlier, I talked to J and he said he’d be home tomorrow. But I just got off the phone, and due to flight complications, he’s decided to head to Galveston where the usual writing gang (Lorin, Brenda, John) is staying for the week. He’ll be home on Sunday instead. I’m trying to make it okay by saying that it spares me some serious housecleaning tonight. (I live like a bachelor when J’s not around). Instead of washing the sheets, I cracked open a beer. It actually is okay, to a certain degree; I emailed him yesterday and said that while I hoped he’d be home on Thursday, I’m not exactly a big honking joy to be around. And I get a lot of guilt-free work done when he’s away. But he’s been home for around 16 hours since October 24, and I swear those were the most peaceful 16 hours I’ve had in a while. As I said, WAY early on, maybe even in my first entry, J and I lead very independent lifestyles, and normally that’s just hunky dory with me. I like my “me” time, and I like living alone on occasion. And hey, we had more than enough “together time” the two months we were evacuated. But still…
So, how have I been filling my time? A whole lot of job searching, applying for freelance work, sending out hope-filled cover letters. So far, no bites. Went to a birthday party on Saturday, followed by a lovely hang-out-and-watch-Arrested-Development-on-DVD session at the home of some friends.
I have found some worthwhile volunteer work. Long story short, one of the students from Jason’s workshop is independently trying to hook up Katrina-rescued pets with their owners. She’s searching Petfinders and trying to track down owners, and she contacted J to see if he could help her from the New Orleans end. Of course, he’s out of town, so he passed my email on to her. She’s been sending me addresses, and I’ve been posting fliers on people’s houses. (Hi—we’ve found your pet… contact us at…) This work has taken me to some of the areas of town that were most devastated by Katrina.
Here’s an excerpt from the email I sent to Jeanne after my first foray:
One small step, I guess...
Here's what I found:
S. Scott street was a lovely little street. Gorgeous Victorian little homes in a not-bad neighborhood. The homes seemed (pre-K) well maintained. G's house got at least four feet of water inside. And the house itself was raised at least four feet off the ground, so we're looking at an 8-9 foot flood zone. Her door had several notices from her landlord, basically asking her to pay the rent or vacate. From what I could tell, she hadn't been back. But it's a double shotgun, and it looked like her neighbor had been back or was back (there were cleaning supplies on the porch). There was no one on the block to ask about her. The street itself was full of debris and I had to park a block away.
It took me close to an hour to get from there to the Independence St address because the streets were so bad. I don't know that neighborhood well-- it's the now infamous Ninth Ward. It was pretty much blind luck and a relatively good internal compass that got me there.
Ha, that I'm a writer. I certainly can't do justice to what I found on the way and when I got there. You'd have to know these types of neighborhoods in New Orleans to really understand-- they're just jam-pack-full of houses. No yards to speak of. Just tiny houses smashed into blocks with skinny streets. House after house of ruin. I did take a picture. I'll upload it tomorrow and send it to you. I knew I wouldn't begin to be able to explain.
It's a good bet that the Ts owned their house. There's a lot of homeowners in the area. It wasn't much of a place to begin with, to be honest. A square little white thing surrounded by a chicken wire fence. In front was a pen almost the size of the whole front yard. Likely the pet that was rescued was a guard dog. While it's impossible to tell what the neighborhood was like pre-Katrina, the presence of the large pen for a large dog right out front makes me think it wasn't very safe. The front door had been kicked out and there were at least two blown out windows. When I nailed the sign to the doorframe, I called inside and peeked. Furniture everywhere. There's a possibility that they'd been back and taken stuff though because the front room seemed strangely devoid of knick-nack type things. Either that or it was looters. Or the floods washed everything small into another room of the house.
What gets me is that the place had at least 9 feet of water. How did the dog survive in that pen? The 9th ward was under water for days. I just can't figure it out. I talked to a contractor who was working one block down from the Thornton's place. He said he didn't know anyone in the neighborhood, but the guy he was working for was coming back in an hour or so and the contractor said he'd have that guy check out my flier and contact you or PAWS if he knew where the Ts were.
The contractor in the 9th ward said, "This is a really nice thing that you're doing." And I said, "Well, I'm just the runner, this woman in Cincinnati is tracking down all the information." And he said, "You tell her she's doing a nice thing, too."
There you have it; whether or not these people find their dogs, a stranger in New Orleans sends his thanks. And so do I.
As a postscript, I found out today that G on S. Scott Street did hook up with two of her dogs… she had two more, and we’re looking for them now. Jeanne asked me to swing by the house again today, if I could, to report back on the condition of the home so she could share it with G. This was my email back to Jeanne today:
I just got back from G's house. She was there, and so was her mom (also G). Unfortunately I didn't get to meet Mom because she was at a neighbor's.
G was very nice and super appreciative (she approached me very cautiously thinking I was from her landlord's). She and her family stayed three days after the flood largely because Mom wouldn't leave the animals behind. They moved up to the second floor with the animals, and on the third day, when the water level hadn't gone down any, a neighbor (the "neighborhood hero," she called him-- who's named, interestingly, Tom Cruise-- I saw his business card, so it's not a misunderstanding) came by with a boat, got the family out, and went back for the animals which he moved to another house's second floor balcony with other neighborhood pets.
The family is now at a much smaller apartment in Kenner, and they've signed a 6-month lease. They're pretty miserable because they aren't allowed to have pets and the place "just doesn't feel like a home." The good news is that one of Mom's best friends owns a kennel nearby, and they think they will be able to house the pets there until their lease runs out. Mom really wants the dogs close by so she can visit them often.
I don't have much more to add to the descriptions except that Mom is really, really desperate for Lucho. (sp?). He's male, very stocky, around 14 lbs when Katrina struck. His hair gets curly (as does Munyaka's (sp?)) when he's not groomed. He's around 13 years old and his front legs are bowlegged. Munyaka is smaller-- 10lbs. She's the one with the hernia on her "bottom" (I'm not sure if that means bum or underside). The calico cat is a baby; she'd be eight months now, and un-fixed (the appointment for spaying was in September). She's a dark calico and according to G, very obedient. The older cat is very old and white and angora?
I didn't see this in the description you sent, but the dogs are all family. Munyaka is Lucho's mom and the found pets, Oso and Sweetie, are Lucho's kids (and therefore Munyaka's grandkids).
There’s more, but those were the interesting parts. It was wonderful to meet G today (I’m trying to not put too much identifying info on the web, so I’m abbreviating names). She was very sweet, very sad, but also very grateful and lovely.
The other nice reunion story that I have was the one that got me involved in the first place. (Note that so far no one’s been reunited directly from my work, but it’s nice to be a part of this successful team). The first contact I got was for a local French bakery owner—I was supposed to go down there on Friday after school to tell him we knew where his dog was, but Jeanne called him before I had a chance to go. When she talked to him, she found out that he doesn’t speak much English. And all this time the people who have been fostering the dog thought that the dog was stupid because he’d stare at them blankly whenever they gave a command—it turned out that he just didn’t “speak” English.
For some reason, the pictures I took of the 9th Ward didn’t come out. I’m okay with that. I wonder about the karma of catching other people’s misery on film, anyway.
On Tuesday night I babysat. I honestly can’t remember the last time I took care of a small child. Way back when we first arrived in town, I responded to an ad looking for a part time nanny. My hours didn’t mesh with the mom’s, but it turned out that she and I had friends in common, so she asked if I could babysit on occasion. Ivy is a terrific little girl—I think 17 months old. She babbles incessantly, but I understand only 1/10th of what she says. Wee ones are a ton of work. I forget that every time my biological clock goes berserk. (Speaking of which, we read a really cool book called Hippos Go Berserk together… little guys, these days, have some pretty fantastic reading material to choose from). And, whoo!, diapers. Wow. Ivy pumped out some seriously scary stuff. (Hey, this is all relatively new to me, or new again seeing that I haven’t babysat since high school). I’ll be sitting for Ivy again on Saturday. Her parents are wonderful.
So, that’s the update. I guess it’s not as gloomy as I thought it would be. My mood is far worse than my writing. I suppose my mood would be worse if I had to clean the house tonight (note to self: don’t save it all for Saturday night).
Earlier, I talked to J and he said he’d be home tomorrow. But I just got off the phone, and due to flight complications, he’s decided to head to Galveston where the usual writing gang (Lorin, Brenda, John) is staying for the week. He’ll be home on Sunday instead. I’m trying to make it okay by saying that it spares me some serious housecleaning tonight. (I live like a bachelor when J’s not around). Instead of washing the sheets, I cracked open a beer. It actually is okay, to a certain degree; I emailed him yesterday and said that while I hoped he’d be home on Thursday, I’m not exactly a big honking joy to be around. And I get a lot of guilt-free work done when he’s away. But he’s been home for around 16 hours since October 24, and I swear those were the most peaceful 16 hours I’ve had in a while. As I said, WAY early on, maybe even in my first entry, J and I lead very independent lifestyles, and normally that’s just hunky dory with me. I like my “me” time, and I like living alone on occasion. And hey, we had more than enough “together time” the two months we were evacuated. But still…
So, how have I been filling my time? A whole lot of job searching, applying for freelance work, sending out hope-filled cover letters. So far, no bites. Went to a birthday party on Saturday, followed by a lovely hang-out-and-watch-Arrested-Development-on-DVD session at the home of some friends.
I have found some worthwhile volunteer work. Long story short, one of the students from Jason’s workshop is independently trying to hook up Katrina-rescued pets with their owners. She’s searching Petfinders and trying to track down owners, and she contacted J to see if he could help her from the New Orleans end. Of course, he’s out of town, so he passed my email on to her. She’s been sending me addresses, and I’ve been posting fliers on people’s houses. (Hi—we’ve found your pet… contact us at…) This work has taken me to some of the areas of town that were most devastated by Katrina.
Here’s an excerpt from the email I sent to Jeanne after my first foray:
One small step, I guess...
Here's what I found:
S. Scott street was a lovely little street. Gorgeous Victorian little homes in a not-bad neighborhood. The homes seemed (pre-K) well maintained. G's house got at least four feet of water inside. And the house itself was raised at least four feet off the ground, so we're looking at an 8-9 foot flood zone. Her door had several notices from her landlord, basically asking her to pay the rent or vacate. From what I could tell, she hadn't been back. But it's a double shotgun, and it looked like her neighbor had been back or was back (there were cleaning supplies on the porch). There was no one on the block to ask about her. The street itself was full of debris and I had to park a block away.
It took me close to an hour to get from there to the Independence St address because the streets were so bad. I don't know that neighborhood well-- it's the now infamous Ninth Ward. It was pretty much blind luck and a relatively good internal compass that got me there.
Ha, that I'm a writer. I certainly can't do justice to what I found on the way and when I got there. You'd have to know these types of neighborhoods in New Orleans to really understand-- they're just jam-pack-full of houses. No yards to speak of. Just tiny houses smashed into blocks with skinny streets. House after house of ruin. I did take a picture. I'll upload it tomorrow and send it to you. I knew I wouldn't begin to be able to explain.
It's a good bet that the Ts owned their house. There's a lot of homeowners in the area. It wasn't much of a place to begin with, to be honest. A square little white thing surrounded by a chicken wire fence. In front was a pen almost the size of the whole front yard. Likely the pet that was rescued was a guard dog. While it's impossible to tell what the neighborhood was like pre-Katrina, the presence of the large pen for a large dog right out front makes me think it wasn't very safe. The front door had been kicked out and there were at least two blown out windows. When I nailed the sign to the doorframe, I called inside and peeked. Furniture everywhere. There's a possibility that they'd been back and taken stuff though because the front room seemed strangely devoid of knick-nack type things. Either that or it was looters. Or the floods washed everything small into another room of the house.
What gets me is that the place had at least 9 feet of water. How did the dog survive in that pen? The 9th ward was under water for days. I just can't figure it out. I talked to a contractor who was working one block down from the Thornton's place. He said he didn't know anyone in the neighborhood, but the guy he was working for was coming back in an hour or so and the contractor said he'd have that guy check out my flier and contact you or PAWS if he knew where the Ts were.
The contractor in the 9th ward said, "This is a really nice thing that you're doing." And I said, "Well, I'm just the runner, this woman in Cincinnati is tracking down all the information." And he said, "You tell her she's doing a nice thing, too."
There you have it; whether or not these people find their dogs, a stranger in New Orleans sends his thanks. And so do I.
As a postscript, I found out today that G on S. Scott Street did hook up with two of her dogs… she had two more, and we’re looking for them now. Jeanne asked me to swing by the house again today, if I could, to report back on the condition of the home so she could share it with G. This was my email back to Jeanne today:
I just got back from G's house. She was there, and so was her mom (also G). Unfortunately I didn't get to meet Mom because she was at a neighbor's.
G was very nice and super appreciative (she approached me very cautiously thinking I was from her landlord's). She and her family stayed three days after the flood largely because Mom wouldn't leave the animals behind. They moved up to the second floor with the animals, and on the third day, when the water level hadn't gone down any, a neighbor (the "neighborhood hero," she called him-- who's named, interestingly, Tom Cruise-- I saw his business card, so it's not a misunderstanding) came by with a boat, got the family out, and went back for the animals which he moved to another house's second floor balcony with other neighborhood pets.
The family is now at a much smaller apartment in Kenner, and they've signed a 6-month lease. They're pretty miserable because they aren't allowed to have pets and the place "just doesn't feel like a home." The good news is that one of Mom's best friends owns a kennel nearby, and they think they will be able to house the pets there until their lease runs out. Mom really wants the dogs close by so she can visit them often.
I don't have much more to add to the descriptions except that Mom is really, really desperate for Lucho. (sp?). He's male, very stocky, around 14 lbs when Katrina struck. His hair gets curly (as does Munyaka's (sp?)) when he's not groomed. He's around 13 years old and his front legs are bowlegged. Munyaka is smaller-- 10lbs. She's the one with the hernia on her "bottom" (I'm not sure if that means bum or underside). The calico cat is a baby; she'd be eight months now, and un-fixed (the appointment for spaying was in September). She's a dark calico and according to G, very obedient. The older cat is very old and white and angora?
I didn't see this in the description you sent, but the dogs are all family. Munyaka is Lucho's mom and the found pets, Oso and Sweetie, are Lucho's kids (and therefore Munyaka's grandkids).
There’s more, but those were the interesting parts. It was wonderful to meet G today (I’m trying to not put too much identifying info on the web, so I’m abbreviating names). She was very sweet, very sad, but also very grateful and lovely.
The other nice reunion story that I have was the one that got me involved in the first place. (Note that so far no one’s been reunited directly from my work, but it’s nice to be a part of this successful team). The first contact I got was for a local French bakery owner—I was supposed to go down there on Friday after school to tell him we knew where his dog was, but Jeanne called him before I had a chance to go. When she talked to him, she found out that he doesn’t speak much English. And all this time the people who have been fostering the dog thought that the dog was stupid because he’d stare at them blankly whenever they gave a command—it turned out that he just didn’t “speak” English.
For some reason, the pictures I took of the 9th Ward didn’t come out. I’m okay with that. I wonder about the karma of catching other people’s misery on film, anyway.
On Tuesday night I babysat. I honestly can’t remember the last time I took care of a small child. Way back when we first arrived in town, I responded to an ad looking for a part time nanny. My hours didn’t mesh with the mom’s, but it turned out that she and I had friends in common, so she asked if I could babysit on occasion. Ivy is a terrific little girl—I think 17 months old. She babbles incessantly, but I understand only 1/10th of what she says. Wee ones are a ton of work. I forget that every time my biological clock goes berserk. (Speaking of which, we read a really cool book called Hippos Go Berserk together… little guys, these days, have some pretty fantastic reading material to choose from). And, whoo!, diapers. Wow. Ivy pumped out some seriously scary stuff. (Hey, this is all relatively new to me, or new again seeing that I haven’t babysat since high school). I’ll be sitting for Ivy again on Saturday. Her parents are wonderful.
So, that’s the update. I guess it’s not as gloomy as I thought it would be. My mood is far worse than my writing. I suppose my mood would be worse if I had to clean the house tonight (note to self: don’t save it all for Saturday night).
posted by M at 7:10 PM
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