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The photographs on this page are my exclusive property and,
as such, they should not be copied or published anywhere without my permission.
Please also be advised that I support Pasado's Safe Haven and all
the work they do, and I do not care to be contacted or enlisted by anyone
who would undermine this organization. Thank you. Mandy
Speers
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| page 4 October 2005 Volunteering at Pasado's Safe Haven in Raceland, Louisiana After Hurricane Katrina Mandy Speers Volunteers
have been emailing each other, with news and photos (the network continues),
and the information is heartwarming. Photographs of a frightened, dirty
pup are replaced with a happy, clean pup on a soft sofa. Eyes are hopeful.
Fur is growing back. I feel a small sense of closure when I am forwarded
a happy email about an animal I cared for in Raceland.
It was such a team effort on all the volunteers' behalf. The system would not have worked without all of us. On my second to last day, I went into New Orleans with fellow volunteer, Secrette. We went on an unofficial rescue. It was already late in the day and we were against the clock to get to NOLA and back before curfew took effect at sundown. If you were caught on the streets after sunset, the police would arrest you, no questions asked. We loaded the car with a cat trap and supplies as we were going after Chloé, a calico cat, who had been spotted in and around the area of her owner's destroyed house, just the day before. She had been uncatchable, thus far, and her owner had telephoned a feline rescue group for help. This group was unable to catch her so they came to Pasado’s and found Secrette (a cat expert). They loaned her a trap and she requested I come along to help. We drove into New Orleans with a handwritten map of where to go. We found the street and the house, which had the previous day’s date spray-painted on the garage door. Food and water had been left for the cat. We parked and walked around the house. There was no sign of Chloé. We called “kitty, kitty, kitty.” I went off toward a group of houses that had spray-painted messages about dogs that had been seen in the vicinity 2 days earlier. I disappeared behind a house, amazed at the destruction of this single community. Secrette called out to me as we were not in view of each other. When you are on rescue, you MUST not lose sight of your partner. I made my way back out to the street, as she had set the trap with sardines in front of the house where Chloé lived. Secrette headed back to the car and I continued searching for the dogs. We were to meet back in 5 minutes. I made my way to the front window of a house and separated the moldy curtains from the windowsill and peered 
into a livingroom buzzing with mosquitoes. I saw the green eyes
of a feline. She was sitting on top of an overturned sofa. I stepped back
from the sill, slowly. I was certain she was our calico. I didn’t want to
frighten her. I made my way to the street and called for Secrette. I stepped
back and let Secrette work her kitty magic; to no avail. The cat bounded
out of the window and down the street. Secrette re-set the trap
directly in front of where the kitty had been. We walked away,
anxious and hopeful that MAYBE she would come back and take the bait. She
had run away quickly, so we were doubtful. Secrette and I were just happy
to have seen her alive. We left the area and walked around the neghborhood,
sighting 2 other cats along the way and I wrote the address down on my arm.
We would send out a team tomorrow to try and catch these cats. It was too
late in the day to do anything else. We walked around the devastation and spoke to a family who were packing up a UHAUL with the few possessions they were able to save. The woman (I never got her name) refused to go into her house. She sent her 
son, Nick, inside to take pictures of her sofa and of the washer and dryer
that she had received as gifts last Christmas. “Nick, honey, don’t
forget to take a picture of my kitchen! my kitchen counters! Don’t forget
the microwave. Nick, NICK, take a picture of the dining room!” Nick came out
and said, “MOM, got it!” They loaded up and drove away. Their
deceased family dog was left hanging on the fence. They were Dallas-bound.
They were born and raised in New Orleans and they were never coming back.
Secrette and I walked across the street and picked up photographs from a photo album - a christening photo, a wedding photo. We wondered what house they had come from. We came upon a dead cockatoo, another sad reminder. We were losing our daylight and had to get back. There would be no street lights after dark. How macabre that neighbourhood was with no power and no people – just row after row of dead houses. We walked back to check the trap. Surely, if we had captured Chloe, we would hear meows, but there was only silence. Secrette was planning what she would do the next day, when she returned to capture the kitty. We turned the corner and walked up the driveway. I looked at the trap and saw those same green eyes! We got her! She took the sardines! 
Secrette and I erupted into dancing, high-fives and a tearful hug.
I told Secrette that I have never loved another human being as much as I
loved her right then! I found the kitty and Secrette captured her!We loaded the cat trap, with its precious cargo, into the back of our mini-van and headed back to Raceland. Enroute, Secrette telephoned Chloe’s owner in Texas. The woman was in disbelief ... we had captured her Chloé across the street and 5 houses down from her demolished home. If I hadn’t poked my head into that livingroom we wouldn’t have known where to place the trap. When we got back to the Raceland barn, Chloé got a vet check and was intaken to the kitty room to rest, eat and drink. She had managed to stay alive for 5 weeks on her own, moving from one house to another in search of food and water. Secrette made arrangements for her to be driven to Texas to be reunited with her owner. MAN, I would like to have been there! Meanwhile, it was my last night in Raceland and I had much to do. Later that night, Secrette and I got a picture together with Chloé. It was so bittersweet. I made my rounds, one last time, and said farewell to the animals I had grown to love so much. I touched their snoots(noses), and I promised each one of them that there would be happier days ahead. I said brief goodbyes to the volunteers who would be taking over for me, and I handed them my hope and my love. I got back to the motel and sat outside with Secrette, who had stopped by the drive-through daquari bar for Blue Monkeys (a frozen blue concoction that is 80% vodka!) We talked a little about Chloé, but mostly we just sat in silent camaraderie. I 
headed to my room, as I had to be up and on the road early Sunday morning.
Secrette was the last person from Raceland that I shared a hug with. I
thank her for the Blue Monkey. It was my going away present – and my tongue
was still blue 3 days later! I enjoyed my last shower at the motel
90; zipped myself into my sleeping bag and cried myself to sleep. They were
neither sad nor happy tears. I was crying from my soul – from a place
I never knew existed within me. For the animals. back home |